Recruit Augustus of Flagstaff leapt from one sandstone boulder to the next. To his back was Fortification Hill and the Legate's Camp, Caesar's chosen site for the assault on the West. Before him satthe rocky cliff and hills of the east bank of the Colorado. With him walked nine other recruits, all clad in the same armor, carrying a machete and a gun. Himself, he was carrying a caravan shotgun- on his last patrol near Cottonwood Cove, he had happened across some Profligate sleeping near a dead fire. He had had quite a few bottle caps- he traded them at the Fort for six Aureus. He also got this brand new caravan shotgun- it was as if it had never been used before. He looked forward to getting a chance to use it.

And it looked as if he just might get such a chance. Lookouts at the Fort had sighted a column of smoke rising out of the hills to the East- what should be Legion territory. Smart money was on escaped slaves. But his fellow Legionnaires had speculated... not even a slave would be idiotic enough to escape, and then set up camp so close to the Fort. You would have to be an utter imbecile to do that. Some thought it was an NCR Ranger camp- or a trap set by them. One way or another, they would have to go scope it out.

"Keep up the pace, swine!" The Decanus said in an attempt to motivate the patrol. These boulders were hard on the feet, and it was common for deathclaws to wander this far north up the banks of the Colorado. A few recruits slowed down every time the wind blew, in case a Deathclaw was breathing down there neck. The Decanus kicked one of the recruits in the groin to keep him moving. Most of the recruits would rather face a deathclaw then an angry officer any day.

As the approached the source of the smoke, the band slowed. The Decanus waved for Augustus and two others to come closer. When they got to him, he whispered "Here, take these stealth boys. Sneak up on them, see who they are and what there doing, and if you can, get the jump on them."

The Recruits nodded. Each one took a stealth boy and, once the field was activated, became like the ghosts of Boulder City. The crawled over the boulders, between narrow passes, and under natural arches, inching ever closer towards the mysterious folk who had started the fire.

Augustus perched on top of a boulder, and saw the men before him. They wore garb similar to that of a Slaves, but... different somehow. Tanner, and with a wrap of cloth around there heads, so as to shield it from the sun. Each man he rich and smooth olive skin, and greasy black hair. They all laughed, passing a bottle of wine around the circle. Slowly and methodically, Augustus climbed down the boulder, towards the strange men. They were definitely not NCR, but at the same time definitely not slaves. And they did not look like any locals, in either appearance or clothing.

Once he was within spitting distance, he stood up, and turned off the stealth field. With the loud electrical noise that came with it, he growled "Freeze Profligates!", aiming his caravan shotgun at the back of one of there heads. Moments later, his comrades revealed themselves, drawing machetes and putting them around the mens throats. Each man looked as if he had saw a ghost- and they all stared at the caravan shotgun.

"Do you think they are the slaves?" Asked one of the recruits.

"We didn't have any slaves missing, according to the Decanus- once we figure out who they are, I'm sure they will fetch a fine price back East"

At the mention of slavery, one of the mans eyes widened- the one that Augustus was holding a shotgun to. Fast as a rattlesnake, he drew his sword, and spun around. As his hand lashed out, Augustus squeezed the trigger. A dragons roar and a puff of smoke later, and the stranger was splattered on the ground, his neck spitting a geyser of blood onto its companions as it fell. Each of them gasped, and one- a woman, Augustus realized- began swearing at them. One of the Recruits hit her over the head, and that shut her up.

At the noise, the rest of the patrol came with weapons drawn. The Decanus, after looking at the strange folk for a moment, ordered the unit to escort them up to the Hill.

As the dust settled, Augustus picked up the wine. He sniffed it- it smelled wonderful. Like fresh wine he had once had from the orchards of the West. But this smelled... different somehow. And on the ground, something shining caught his eye. As he bent over, he realized it was one of his shells. And then he saw it- something that looked like a pre-war book, except now scarred with bone, blood and buckshot. As he bent over to pick it up, he turned to the cover. It said:

An Atlas of Dorne

-

Cass sat in the Mojave Express. But outside, she heard a commotion. When she went out, she saw something strange- a tall, slender animal, nothing like a Brahmin, with a man sat on it. It had hair the color of sand, and a long furry mane the same color. NCR Troops pointed guns at the two, as the creature bucked up and down, making wild noises at the Brahmin, who appeared equally sppoked.

Thinking about it, she realized she knew what the creature was- they called them 'horses'. She had seen it in a book she read as a kid, once. But they had all died during the War.

"Shit keeps getting weirder and weirder around here." With that, she took a shot of whiskey, and went back into the outpost.