PROLOGUE I

SMOKE AND BLOOD

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 2ND, 2281, MOJAVE WASTELAND

The smoke was dark, thick and lifted high into the warm Mojave air. It reeked of an awful concoction of metal, blood, flesh and rubber. From a good distance, it could be mistaken for a signal fire. Nothing could be further from the truth. On their way back to the Mojave Outpost in the South-West of the Mojave Wasteland, this trio of NCR troopers had came across a group of Legionaries. Without any hesitation or communication, the Crimson wearing brutes had openly attacked the troopers. It didn't take long for the three Republic soldiers to take down these Legionaries and turn their corpses into a pile of burning ash at the side of the road near Nipton. It was fortunate that one of the NCR's were carrying an Incinerator that they'd found, otherwise the fight may have went a different way.

"Kirkbride!" One soldier shouted to another.

NCR Medic Connor Kirkbride was long into his service with the Republic, but had recently started to give up on providing any good to the wastes. He'd seen a lot in his time serving and one day expected to see something that'd force him away. He stood deep in thought, hypnotized by the burning pile of corpses that he'd played a part in building.

The NCR had been at war with Caesar's Legion for almost five years. They'd already fought one enormous battle at Hoover Dam and were expecting another to take place in the coming months. Things were tense everywhere right now. Everyone in the Mojave knew about the fighting and were unsure of their futures. On one hand, the NCR would win and the citizens of the wasteland would continue under their martial rule. On the other hand, Caesar's Legion would triumph and the whole Mojave would fall under ruthless tyranny. One outcome was considerably better than the other, but neither was particularly longed for by the ordinary citizens that were just trying to get by.

Connor had long wondered why he was even fighting anymore. He'd seen so much conflict that he had long lost track of what his purpose was in the NCR. He didn't like Caesar's Legion, but he wasn't taken to completely wiping out an entire faction of people either. Good and bad had become blurred somewhere along the lines and it was getting harder and harder to tell the difference. Connor had conjured up a plan in his head to leave this life behind. Take his medical skills elsewhere and put them to better use. Somewhere inside him, he'd grown fonder of the idea of helping people rather than killing them.

The small squad's Captain raised his voice louder, "Hey! Connor!"

Connor snapped out of the trance and turned around to face his current superior on the road.

"Come on, get a move on! Double time!" The Captain barked.

Connor just nodded and, after taking one last look at the burning pile of ex-humans, rejoined his two comrades on their journey to the outpost.

THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER, NEVADA HIGHWAY PATROL STATION

Bromius sat on the rough sand and dust with his back against one of the stations burnt out car wrecks. He sat and stared at the tight ropes that held his hands and wrists together. Many ideas had gone through his head on the long journey towards Cottonwood Cove. How he was going to escape, how he was going to kill his captors and mostly about what he would do after that. Bromius had been caught by his former Legion brothers, beaten and tied captive after officially cutting ties with them. Caesar's Legion never took kindly to what they perceived as 'treachery' whether that person had good moral reasons or not. Bromius had never belonged in Caesars Legion, nor did he belong in the Mojave. Life for him had mostly been spent in California and he had always been a part of that wastelands 'The Legion'. They were two very different beasts and Bromius had long been past his breaking point with Caesars Legion. This faction was built on tyranny, slavery and a constant thirst for the blood of everyone else. Now, three days on from stripping himself of his Crimson Vexilliarii armour, throwing it in the Colorado River and telling his brothers that they were no longer his family; Bromius was bound and headed for crucifixion back at The Fort.

He sat staring at the bonds around his wrists, with the odd glance up to the one Legionary that was waiting outside the Patrol Station with him. This Legionary was in full armour and carrying a Hunting Shotgun with a machete sheaved in his belt. Bromius had thought over and over again about how he would take this person down and escape but just had not conjured up the confidence yet. There was too much at stake.

"Do I not get any form of entertainment for the journey?" Bromius asked his captor, squinting due to the sun's brightness.

"Hold that tongue, wastrel. If I could kill you myself right now, I would." Sternly replied the Crimson wearing figure.

"You can." Bromius replied.

"Your death is not for just myself to indulge. You will soon be on the cross that belongs to you. For us all to witness."

Bromius did fear that, if nothing else. Caesar's Legion crucified anyone. And it was not a way anybody wanted to go out. You were tied up high and left to die slowly and painfully in the scorching sun. Fortunately for himself however, Bromius didn't plan on letting that happen.

Before anything else could be said or done, the second Legionary that was escorting Bromius to death finally exited the Patrol Station, small sack in hand.

"What did you find, brother?" Asked the already standing Legionnaire.

"Enough to keep us going for the journey." The other replied.

This second Legionary was carrying a Hunting Rifle and a .44 Magnum. If there was any credit that Caesars Legion was due, it was that when it came to self defence, they went completely balls to the wall.

"Anything in the sack for me, my good man?" Bromius looked up smirking.

In annoyance, the Legionary reached into the small sack and brought out a small handful of paper and threw it all in Bromius' face. Just old, crappy stuff found in desks that burnt well on campfires.

"Hold your tongue! Or I will personally cut it out before your death has even begun." Growled the Legionary.

Bromius didn't want to show these two brutes that he was angry, so he kept the smirk on his face, because he knew it made them angry.

"Why thank you. I'm sure it'll make good reading material." Bromius said picking up one piece of the torn papers.

The Legionary with the machete then grabbed Bromius by the left arm hard and dragged him up to his feet. It was at this moment that Bromius took a glance at the paper and found something he didn't even realise he needed. The piece of paper was torn, dirty and not much of it was readable except one name at the bottom left.

Brandon Sawyer.

Bromius didn't know where it'd come from, but he suddenly felt renewed. And with one tiny little alteration to the name, he finally became somebody else.

FORTY MINUTES LATER

Connor and his two comrades had finally made it to the bottom of the long bank that stood between them and Mojave Outpost. All the way at the top, past the wrecked cars and trucks, stood the infamous giant statue. It was of an NCR Ranger and a Nevada Desert Ranger shaking hands as a symbol of unification. People admired the statue, others felt it ridiculous and arrogant. Some, like Connor himself, had no real opinion. All he was thinking about right now was resting up after the long walk from Ranger Station Delta and having a nice drink of whiskey. Soon however, those thoughts were stolen from him.

"Legionaries, get the fuck down." Whispered the squad Captain.

All three NCR Troopers got to cover behind a burnt out car wreckage and surveyed the oncoming group of Crimson.

"I count just three, sir." Said the Corporal.

"Nah, one of them isn't a Legionary. He's got his hands tied." Connor noticed.

The Captain took a good look and soon realized that the Medic was correct. These two Legion scumbags had a prisoner with them.

"What do we do sir? Take these one's out too?" Asked the Corporal.

"Not with the Incinerator. Too dangerous with all these cars around." Replied the Captain, clutching his Service Rifle.

Time was running out and these two Legionnaires were fast approaching with their prisoner.

"Do we at least save the prisoner, Captain?" Connor asked while loading his Varmant Rifle.

"We can try, but for all we know it's a goddamn fiend or raider. You can never know with these Legion fucks, they'll crucify anyone for fun."

More precious seconds went by with no official decision.

"Alright, when they get about twelve yards closer, open fire, try to avoid the captive." Ordered the Captain.

Meanwhile, across the road.

"Act natural, brother. I don't think they know we see them." Whispered the Legionary grasping his Hunting Shotgun.

"They do not. Wait for one to make a move, and then open fire." Replied the other.

Bromius had heard his captors talking. There was a small squad of NCR soldiers covering behind a car a few yards ahead. He didn't like the NCR, but this was Bromius' last chance.

Before Connor, the Corporal or the Captain could even begin firing, they noticed that the prisoner with the Legionaries had begun choking one of them with the ropes around his wrists.

"NOW!" Ordered the NCR Captain.

All three soldiers exited cover and began firing with their weapons. A huge hail of bullets flew through the air. The only Legionary capable of firing did so with his Hunting Rifle whilst strafing to the right towards an abandoned gas station. The Corporal's Service Rifle had run out of ammo whilst he was moving forward on the attack.

"Shit! Reloading!" Shouted the Corporal.

"No! Look out!" Connor tried to warn his comrade.

Whilst the Corporal attempted to reload his weapon, his head suddenly came apart in a small explosion of blood, flesh and pieces of skull. The Legionary had aimed a perfect shot and it had now become a two on one firefight.

Bromius was still trying to choke out his other captor but the Crimson brute was fighting back hard and would not go down. Finally, after a hard pull of strength, Bromius pulled back his captor to the ground on top of him. The Legionnaire squirmed and gasped for air and started to feel his lights fade but suddenly and desperately equipped the machete from his belt. Bromius then felt his captor slash at his hands and the rope that were slowly killing him. Fear suddenly overcome Bromius when he felt the rope holding his wrists together snap apart.

Connor and his NCR Captain continued to fire upon the covering Legion brute. The NCR soldiers took turns shooting to make sure that reloading didn't cause the same fate to befall them as it had their now dead comrade.

"This is useless, one of us has gotta move forward, Captain!" Connor shouted above the gunshots that plagued the area.

"Alright, I'll go forward, you lay down a suppressing fire for me!" Ordered the Captain.

Connor just simply nodded and waited for his superior to make a move. Before this could happen however, Connor noticed the commotion on the road between the prisoner and the other Legionary. He noticed the prisoner's binds had broken and the Legionnaire was now standing above him, raising a machete above his head to kill. Without hesitation, Connor closed one eye, aimed down his Varmant's iron sights and fired one bullet into that Legionary's head.

Bromius saw his would-be killer suddenly lose an eye in a ray of blood and flesh, go limp and fall on top of him again. Blood was all over Bromius' face and some in his mouth, but the relief of still being alive made him ignore that and thus notice that the NCR soldier had just saved his life. Gathering himself and his wits, Bromius watched the NCR Captain, an older looking guy, run into the open and then get blown right back down onto the dusty ground with one .308 round to the centre of the chest. Only one NCR soldier remained. The same one that had saved him.

Connor cowered behind the broken car in horror, he had just watched his captain get shot down in an instant and he didn't know what to do. After a few moments of eerie silence, the NCR medic decided to pop his head up and see where his enemy was. The Legionary was very close and almost killed Connor with another rifle shot had he not ducked back behind cover in time. There was no getting out of this. This Legion brute was a master with his weapon. Wherever Connor went, the shot would hit him. In the face of certain death, Connor lay down on his back and awaited the Legionary to walk around the car, which he did within seconds.

"Filthy profligate." Sneered the Legionary, his Hunting Rifle aimed directly at Connor on the ground.

Suddenly, a miracle occurred. The prisoner that Connor had saved spear tackled the Legionary to the ground a few yards away. In the ensuing scuffle, the Crimson brute dropped his Hunting Rifle and began trying to grapple Bromius but to no avail. Connor watched as the now free captive pummelled the Legionnaire until his face was red and bloody. When he was finished, Bromius grabbed his former captors .44 Magnum and stood up over him. Connor sat stunned as the prisoner, with a face full of anger, finished off the last Legionary with three magnum rounds. Two in the chest, one in the head.

Connor was breathing heavily in shock, his back against the wrecked car and 9mm pistol in his hand. Bromius turned from the body to look at the NCR soldier on the ground. Both men stared at each other for the longest time. One holding a pistol, the other holding a magnum. Neither knew each other and both were probably waiting to see if the other would shoot them. After a few seconds that felt like a lifetime, Connor broke the silence.

"Thank you."

Bromius glared at Connor and then slowly holstered the magnum in hand before replying.

"And you."

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

Bromius had helped Connor carry the two NCR bodies to the very bottom of the bank. Both had already thrown the Legion corpses into the sandy valleys nearby to become Fire Ant food. Neither man had said much beyond a few words. It was strange. These two men knew nothing about each other, not even names. But both had saved each other's life. When the NCR bodies were laid together on the ground and Connor had taken their dog tags, both men noticed that at the top of the bank, just underneath the giant statue, a small pack of NCR soldiers were on their way. They probably had heard the shootout and wanted to inspect the damage. Connor took this opportunity to show his gratitude.

"Listen, man. Buy you a drink up there?" Connor asked the stranger.

Bromius shook his head. "No, I'm good. Thanks though. I can't go up there."

"Why not? Don't worry about how you look or anything. I can explain everything to them."

"Seriously it's okay. I don't much want to. But thanks for commenting on how I look." Smirked Bromius.

Connor didn't really know what else to say. He began another sentence but was stopped.

"I'm a Legionary. Or... I was a Legionary." Bromius admitted.

Connor's face dropped. "You were a Legionary? When the hell did you stop?"

"About three days ago. Just... Tired of that life, you know? Fuck 'em."

Bromius never planned on admitting his former life to anyone after he had decided to move on. But he thought it was the least he could do for the man who had just saved him.

"Yeah. I get that." Connor replied, his eyebrows twisting inwards.

"So what I'm saying is, those soldiers coming down the hill. They're probably gonna notice who I actually am. Everybody knows everybody in this god forsaken dustbowl." Bromius mumbled.

Connor slowly began to nod. He understood exactly what the stranger meant. Even Connor himself was tired of his own life in the NCR, so he couldn't discredit the man for deciding to cut loose. No matter whom he used to belong to.

"So I guess the question becomes... Are you gonna take me up there to imprisonment and probably execution? Or are you gonna let me go?" Bromius flat out asked.

Connor then slowly walked over to the stranger whose life he had saved and who had saved his own. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of purified water and a Stimpak.

"It aint' much but... For your journey. Wherever you go." Connor answered.

Bromius was taken aback. He couldn't remember this sort of kindness. He smiled and took both from Connors hands. Before anything else could be said, Connor turned his back and began walking away.

"Your name?" Bromius asked.

Connor stopped and turned back. "Connor. Connor Kirkbride. Yours?"

After a small moment of silence, the stranger looked at the scene around him, the gifts in his hands and then back to the NCR medic.

"Brendan. Brendan Sawyer."

Both men looked at each other, gave a single nod of respect and then parted ways.