Chapter One

She was pushed down onto her knees before the throne. It was something distinctively tribal, with spears forming the back of the chair. It was a symbol of everything she vowed to fight. At the foot of the throne was a cyberdog sleeping gently, a red bull painted on its side.

The rope cut into her wrists like a blade. Not a quick cut either, but the kind that forms over a few hours and runs the risk of getting infected. But the getting an infection wasn't exactly on her list of priorities.

"Ursa Fremont," a malicious voice stated. In the pale moonlight she could just barely see him standing beside the throne a thin smile snaking across his face.

"Vulpes Inculta," she spat back. She should have known not to speak, but in case she wasn't aware her captor brought his fist across her face. She felt a molar loosen in the back of her mouth as the fist connected. When she regained her composure, she spat it onto the ground in a bloody puddle.

Her captor, who apparently changed his name to Draco, was about to strike her again when the man on the throne rose his hand and said, "Hold, Draco."

The man looked at her and she looked at him, but they were different kinds of looks. She glared at him, hoping she would have a chance to kill him. He looked at her with lust, thinking of her as a potential comfort slave.

"Who are you?" he asked, leaning in. "What do you want?"

"I want my country back," she replied, not daring to meet his eyes.

"No," he said, leaning back into his throne. "That's what your handler wants. "What do you want?"

"You captured my sister," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "I want her freed."

"And what do I get if I free her?" the man asked, suddenly much more intrigued.

She looked up and stared into his eyes. She had known how this was going to go long before she arrived. "You get me."

"Ah, but I already have you," he replied.

"Okay, Caesar," she rose to her feet. "Let's drop this charade. I came sneaking into your camp trying to find my sister. That much is obvious. And I'm clearly willing to replace her. That much is also obvious. Now I came in here ready to barter and try to trick you into releasing us both, but I now see that isn't going to happen."

"So what do you intend to do? What bargaining chip did you bring?"

"The last known location of your former soldier, Ulysses," she replied with hint of satisfaction.

Behind her, Draco's stoic demeanor broke as a look of shock tore across his face.

"Draco," said Caesar, "What's the matter?"

Finding his voice, he answered, "I know the courier called Ulysses. I can tell you whether or not she is speaking true."

"Very well," he said. "Woman, tell your tale."

"As you wish," she said, feigning humility. "He's in a place west of the Mojave, a valley called the Divide. If you recall, the Legion once sent its soldiers there trying to prevent the NCR from annexing it. The actions of the courier you now call Draco foiled that plan and destroyed the Divide. Ulysses was there when it happened. After that he traveled until he found out the courier was still alive. I don't know what his name was before, but now he calls himself Draco. Ulysses drew him back to the Divide, seeking vengeance for the lives lost.

"Draco fought through hell to get there, only to discover that your frumentarius had plans to wipe out both the Legion and the NCR, by way of nuclear weapons. Draco stopped the bombs, but was unable to pursue Ulysses afterward."

"And why didn't he tell me this himself?" Caesar asked, glaring at the new centurion.

"I suspect he's too humble. He also failed to tell you that he killed the Burned Man," she explained with a sly grin.

Draco was agog. She played Caesar like Nero played a fiddle. Even Vulpes wasn't this clever. Whoever this woman was, he needed to make a friend of her.

"Really?" Caesar asked, his bald head glittering in the moonlight. "Do the two of you have any proof to show me?"

"He does," she replied. When he didn't speak, she turned to him. "The pistol, numbnuts."

After realizing what she meant, he drew the pistol at his hip. It was a big deal for Caesar to let him bring his weapons into the tent, but Draco had certainly earned his trust. The pistol was a .45 auto. On its side, it said "A light shining in darkness," referring to some religious text that Graham probably liked.

"This belonged to the Burned Man," she said as Draco handed it to Caesar. He examined it and nodded.

"You've told me what my new centurion has done in my service, you've done nothing to earn your sister's freedom," he replied after returning the pistol to Draco.

"I've told you where to find a traitor and I've offered myself in her stead. A just ruler would say that was enough."

After a moment's consideration, he nodded his head in agreement. "You have a way with words. Draco, you will help her find her sister then return her to my chambers. Understood?"

"Ita vero," he replied, switching to Latin as he so often did.

He pulled her by her bonds through the tent flap where he was greeted by Roxie, a cybernetic police dog that he took as a companion. After some interesting events, cyberdogs swarmed the Mojave and the Legion took to using them in combat. They were tougher than mongrels and certainly lasted longer. Draco whistled to her and she followed at his heels, cocking her head curiously at the captive.

"I bet they're going to make you a legate for what you've done," she remarked as they walked toward the slave pits. "There are, what, four of those in the Legion?"

"Three," he replied, "two of whom are preparing to take Vegas."

"Right," she muttered. "That business at the damn sure sealed Vegas' fate."

He didn't deign to respond.

So she pushed a little more. "You were there, right? At the battle?"

"I led the first charge, then I cut open Oliver's throat." His voice didn't betray any emotion so she couldn't gather whether he was proud or ashamed of betraying his country.

"That bullet really fucked up your memory, didn't it?"

Once again, he was taken aback. Who was this girl who knew so much about him? "It was two bullets," he replied without answering her.

"You don't remember me at all?" she asked, giving into herself.

"Should I?" he asked, trying not to care.

But he did care. He knew her face. He had seen her before. That's why he followed her when he saw her sneaking around. It was only luck when he realized he had found the most renowned spy in the NCR. Surely it was Mars looking over him. But why couldn't he shake the feeling that they met?

"I've known you since we were kids," she replied, clearly reminiscing. "Don't tell me you forgot all the days we ran around the village pretending to be soldiers. Remember? Ursa. You couldn't have forgotten me. You couldn't have forgotten when we got married."

Married? Draco couldn't begin to contemplate the thought that they had been married. They were already at the slave pits, literally pits dug into the ground where new slaves were thrown before they could be transported. "Where's your sister?" he asked as calmly as possible.

Without warning, she pulled his face toward hers. She placed her lips gently on his. It must have been a sight to see, a dark skinned woman with dirt in her hair kissing a fair skinned centurion renowned for his bravery and strength. She wore rags and he wore armor torn from a dozen dead enemies. The contrast would have startled anyone who saw them.

But nobody saw them.

He broke away, trying to figure out what was happening. "Don't," he muttered, shaking his head.

She gently pulled him away from the pits, to a private corner separated by a curtain. Draco knew these were where legionaries used the comfort slaves. The bed was rotten and filthy and the curtains provided almost no privacy.

"I told Caesar I don't know your name," she said as they sat on the bed.

"My name is Draco."

"I lied," she said, ignoring his objection. "I don't know why you took the name Draco, but I know your name is Bernard."

"Bernard," he muttered under his breath.

"I've been following you," she continued. "The NCR would call me a deserter for chasing after you while the Legion marched on the Mojave. I don't care what they say, I haven't given up on you."

"Why have you waited so long? Why didn't you tell me all this in Goodsprings?" he asked, clearly distraught at what she was telling him.

"You're a hard man to find, but you left a trail of bodies a mile wide behind you. I recognized your work and started following you." She laughed quietly, but not in a happy way. "You know if you hadn't gotten shot on that mission, the two of us would have secured Vegas for the NCR."

"Are you saying- are you saying I'm an NCR soldier?" he asked, agog once again.

"I'm saying you were an NCR soldier," she replied. She was clearly getting desperate. "It doesn't matter now. We can leave, run away together."

"What about your sister?"

"I guess you forgot that too," she said. "I don't have a sister."

"Then why the charade? Why the game?"

"Because I knew you would catch me. I knew Caesar would want to keep me. And I knew you would get me alone." She smiled slyly. Eat your heart out, Vulpes.

"Give me one good reason not to tell Caesar what you've just told me," he demanded.

She pulled him in and kissed him again, and for a second her chaffed wrists didn't hurt. "There, now you have on reason." She pushed him onto the bed. "Let me give you another."