A Slave for Caesar.

A Fallout: New Vegas Story.

Miranda walked past shacks made of rusty corrugated iron, particle board and whatever else the people of their town could scrounge up. She'd let the kids out from their schooling for their lunch break a little early, as a Trading Caravan had arrived. The Traders would need some hospitality, and the bar would surely be busy. She entered the bar that was their home and primary source of income, and went behind the counter to help her Sister, Sally.

"How are my boys doing sis?" she asked of her two sons.

Miranda chuckled, as she popped open a Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle and poured out a glass, tossing the bottle cap into the pre-war cash register.

"Passing notes between them again." She said as she sipped her drink. Sally laughed at the mischievousness of her sons, "I remember doing that." Sally said. Miranda nodded, "Yes, but now the shoe is on the other foot. I didn't realise how distracting it is… for the teacher!"

Miranda tuned to the Brahmin steaks that had been delivered that morning by Travis, who worked the two headed Brahmin just outside town. She took a hammer and began to tenderise the meat. While she worked, she added a touch of dried and ground jalapeno chilli peppers and honey mesquite pods to flavour the meat. She set the steaks to cook on the flames of the grill, and the savoury aroma began to waft amongst the already strong stench of human and alcohol.

The doors to the bar opened, letting in strong sunlight, and causing some of their long-standing patrons to groan at the intrusion of natural light into the lantern-lit bar.

The silhouette moved in and closed the door behind him. Sally was busy serving another customer; Miranda turned the steaks on the grill and checked the potatoes and carrots on the boil before going to greet their new customer.

"Howdy, what can I get you?" she asked him.

From beneath his dusty broad brim hat, he spoke quietly,

"Water."

Although his response was brusque, Miranda took no offence; Times were tough on the edges of the Mojave Wasteland especially since the second Battle of Hoover Dam.

Caesar was dead and his legion scattered, and the NCR was pushed back by Mr House's Securitron forces. There were stories that spread that someone who called themselves "The Courier" had a hand in it.

New Vegas was Free, but for those who lived on the edges of the Mojave Wasteland, the Raiders were a more constant threat, Trade Caravans began to up their prices due to the increased cost of having more armed guards.

"Ok, don't want anything else?" Miranda asked the stranger before her. "Just Water." He replied.

Miranda nodded and gathered a bottle of pure water and a clean class from behind the bar. "Five caps please." She said upon her return.

The stranger took the bottle and slapped five silver coins on the table. Miranda looked at the coins,

"Caps only sir, we don't accept Legion Denarius." He smiled grimly and strode out the door before Miranda could do anything to stop him.

Miranda scooped up the coin and took the glass back to the bar. "Sally, Check this out, that fella paid in Legion money." Sally looked up from turning the steaks,

"Did you tell him we don't take Legion coin?" Miranda smiled and shook her head incredulously, "I told him that we don't take Legion money, only caps, He smiled strangely, and took off before I could stop him" Sally sighed, "Oh well, I'm sure the boys would like 'em, as a curiosity at least."

Before Miranda was finished lunch, Connor burst through the Doors in a breathless state.

"Miranda, The Doc needs you, someone come into town, hurt read bad." Another of Miranda's duties apart from Teaching the seven kids of the town, and helping her Sister in the bar, was to work as a nurse. She had been selected to train with the Followers of the Apocalypse along with three other youth. Two of the others had left the Followers and gone their own way after the training didn't agree with them, and the other had been Miranda's Fiancé.

Charlie had other ideas, and had joined up with the NCR, first chance that he got. He had been killed at the second battle of Hoover Dam, two years ago, but not before sending Miranda a letter saying that he was breaking off their engagement to be with another soldier. Miranda was heartbroken and had blamed the NCR for taking him away from her, but she slowly accepted that he had made the decision himself, yet still she did not trust the NCR, and hated Charlie for his choice.

She stepped out of the bar into the sunshine to see the man being brought in on a makeshift stretcher. Blood dripped from the sides where he had been shot, and cut, Miranda looked at the wounds, a little puzzled. She ran to the clinic and held the door open for the stretcher bearers and followed them inside.

Doc Whittaker, who was also Followers trained, looked over the man's injuries. "Light!" he called and one of the men went out to start the fusion generator. It was only used in emergencies like this, as it was the only generator that they had found in their scavenging trips through the area.

The floodlights bathed the operating area in a warm, golden glow, and the man's injuries were apparent, despite the large amounts of blood that were flowing from the open wounds.

"Blood packs, three of them!" Doc Whittaker called, Miranda went to the fridge and collected three of the precious blood packs, she hooked them up to the I.V. stand beside the operating table, which in reality was really just a dining table used for operating at the clinic. Doc Whittaker washed away much of the blood to reveal severe and deep lacerations and gunshot wounds,

"Deathclaws!" Miranda said, horrified, "No," The man upon the table said weakly, "Legion." He coughed up blood as Miranda and the Doctor began to work on him, assessing his injuries applying Stimpacks, and trying to repair the damage that was done to this poor fellow.

They had barely saved his life; it still hung in the balance. Doc Whittaker washed the blood from his hands and Miranda washed down the table with Abraxo cleaner. "He said that the legion did this to him, how can that be Doc? The Legion is shattered with the death of Caesar, and they are far away from here." Miranda said as she scrubbed the blood from the table and floors.

Doc Whittaker took up a set of tweezers and held up a bullet that they had pulled from the man's wounds.

"I'm not sure. Let's hope that the Legion hasn't regrouped, it will mean bad things are coming if that's so. Legion got a score to settle with the NCR, and we're smack bang in the middle between the two." He dropped the round into the tin plate with its fellows, seven bullets in all they removed from the wounded man.

Miranda headed back to the bar, the boys were happily playing outside with a baseball, throwing it to each other. "Don't you two have homework?" she asked them.

"You never assigned us any Auntie." Called Greg, as he threw the ball to his older brother, Freddy. Miranda caught the ball mid-flight.

"I'm assigning it now, go and clean the chalkboard in the schoolhouse, and organise the books on the shelves, and don't you dare go through your classmate's desks, or mine!" with a combined groan, her nephews headed to the schoolhouse, one of the few buildings that was still standing whole in their town after the great war of 2077.