Author's Note: Important Disclaimer: This chapter and chapter 4 contain text directly from the game, I do not own or pretend to own the dialogue between Vulpes and Leta in Nipton or Caesar's words to Leta at the Fort. You'll recognize it if you're familiar with the game, and I loved it so much I really wanted to include it to try and stay true to character, but it isn't mine!

The Courier sat in the Prospector Saloon, sipping a glass of whiskey. She didn't think she was a drinker, but it calmed her nerves and distracted her. Getting a bullet in the brain was a good reason to have a drink. Trudy looked at her while drying off a glass,

"Sweetheart, you look a right mess."

The courier stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Don't fret over it all, bad things happen and somehow we survive. At least you're breathing." Trudy tried to comfort the girl, but when she saw she wasn't getting far she quieted. The courier had a blank look on her face and had barely said a word since she came in.

"What do you know about the men who shot me?" The Courier spoke up at last, her voice quiet, but strong.

"Well there were three of them, the one in the checkered suit seemed to be calling the shots and they headed south towards Primm. But I didn't hear any names or details. That's just the road they took. Paid their bill and left." Trudy answered. The Courier nodded,

"Don't suppose you have a hat I can use?"

Trudy looked confused then realized that underneath her bandana there was probably a mess of hair, blood and stitches. Trudy nodded and pulled a dusty old bonnet out from underneath the counter. The Courier reached into her pocket to pay her but Trudy shook her head,

"Don't worry about it, you've earned it." Trudy didn't explain, but the Courier assumed that she meant the woman she saved from geckos by the well with Sunny.

"Thanks." The Courier got up and walked to the door, "I'll be back. That rat holed up in the gas station needs taken care of. It's the least I can do." She tipped the brim of her bonnet and stepped outside. She wanted to be alone. She wanted time to think about and process what had happened, who she was. But she knew that the longer she waited, the harder it would be to find the men who shot her. So she headed for Primm.

Primm had less than Goodsprings, and she had to fight her way through some Powder Gangers to get any information. Not to mention that the deputy sheriff was a scammer. The man she was after was headed to Novac, probably through Nipton. The Courier stayed a night in the Bison Steve hotel and scavenged anything useful she could find. Of course, that was after killing the scum holed up there. She patched together some leather armor and found some ammunition for her 9mm. She held the pistol in her palm. She would need more firepower than this pistol and a varmint rifle. Not dwelling on it, she packed up and headed for Nipton in the morning.

The sun was blazing, and the Courier was tired as hell. Her head throbbed and she pulled her sweaty hat farther over her face. Last thing she needed was sunburn. At last, in the distance she could see what she assumed was Nipton. But she noticed thick black smoke rising from the town and a cold chill ran down her spine. Her eyes narrowed and she continued carefully until she was just outside the town. She stuck to the shadows as best as she could and kept low. The Courier was tense, and she hated the eerie feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow she knew they were all dead before she saw a corpse, but when she rounded a corner her assumptions were proven in excess. Just ahead, by the side of the road, was a man hanging crucified and half alive. She approached warily, careful of traps and looked up at him. He was barely conscious, and blood dripped down his chin. She was tempted to kill him out of mercy, but the scavenger in her told her not to waste the ammo, he probably only had minutes anyway. So she continued farther into the town. There, on the town hall steps, was a group of what she assumed were Legionaries. They fit the description she had been given perfectly. It seemed as though they had been there most of the day and killed every living person there. Except for the raving lunatic she had seen skipping out of town singing something about a lottery. The leader seemed to be a man in a coyote hood and black goggles, and even without a good look at him she knew he was dangerous. His stride dared anyone to approach him, and the way his shoulders were square and upright oozed confidence. Perhaps overconfidence, but some voice whispered in the back of her head that it was well warranted. She considered her options. Hide and sneak out of town, or try and face the men. If the rumors were true they would either kill her or enslave and rape her and neither was an outcome she desired. Chances were, they had no answers, the townspeople would have, and they were all corpses. Something about the man in the hood was beckoning her, and it was frightening. Her curiosity would get her killed or worse if she didn't control it, and she had barely survived once. That was enough of a close call. But she knew that hiding and walking away could not be the rest of her life. Neither was this a time to test it.

The Courier stepped out from the shadows and strolled down the street towards the men, her heart in her mouth, pounding. Almost immediately she was spotted and they watched her come closer. The man in the hood stepped forward as she drew nearer, and once close enough, spoke:

"Don't worry, I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. It's useful that you happened by. I am Vulpes Inculta and I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's Legion taught here, especially any NCR troops you run across." His voice was velvet, a deep cadence that wrapped its fingers around her. She expected a rough voice, something blatantly sinister. Though sinister indeed, it was nothing like she expected. It was sinister in the most terrifying way; it was as though he could convince you of anything simply by speaking it. She cautiously responded,

"What 'lessons' did you teach here?"

Her curiosity was genuine; she wanted to know why all of these people had been so mercilessly slaughtered. But she also knew that she tempted fate in questioning him. If the Legion was as absolute and unforgiving as this display made it seem, questioning their logic was a sure way to end up dead. But he seemed happy to oblige her,

"Where to begin? That they are weak, and we are strong? This much was known already. But the depths of their moral sickness, their dissolution? Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson."

"What exactly happened here?"

"Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt. It served all comers, so long as they paid. Profligate troops, Powder Gangers, men of the Legion such as myself – the people here didn't care. It was a town of whores. For a pittance, the town agreed to lead those it had sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize they were caught inside it, too."

"You captured everyone?"

"Yes, and herded them to the center of town. I told them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty. I told them that when Legionaries are disloyal, some are punished, the others made to watch. And I announced the lottery. Each clutched his ticket, hoping it would set him free. Each did nothing, even when "loved ones" were dragged away to be killed."

"You slaughtered innocent civilians?" Her voice nearly cracked. He scoffed,

"Innocent? Hardly. Cowardly, though. They outnumbered us, yet not once did they try to resist. They stood and watched as their fellows were butchered, crucified, and burned, one by one. They stood and hoped their turn would not come. Each cared only for himself."

She was quiet for a moment, thinking of how to respond. Countering and angering him would be foolish.

"I'll do as you ask." She looked up at his goggled eyes without fear, and briefly wondered their color.

"Then I bid you "Vale" – until we meet again." He walked away without a glance, but his presence hung around her. Until we meet again? She never wanted to be anywhere near him again. Yet his words had a finality to them that was indisputable. Did he know something she did not? It was possible, considering her injury. Did he expect that she would do something great? Or even, something terrifying? There was no telling.

She watched him walk away, and his men followed silently. A breeze lifted up and the stench of death and charred corpse surrounded her. She wondered if before being shot she would have been sickened by it, but now she pushed it aside. There was nothing she could do, no one she could help. The men disappeared down the road, and she noticed the sun was not far from setting. Though she wanted shelter for the night, she knew that sleeping here would be impossible. But setting up somewhere in the wasteland also yielded little sleep. She started in the direction of Novac. She would not make it by dark, but she knew that sleep would elude her tonight anyway. Vulpes Inculta would haunt her dreams.

The night air was cold but it was quiet, and the Couriers mind was at its perpetual cycle of questions. Where had she come from? She seemed to remember bits and pieces of things like a father and mother. She knew she was twenty years old, five feet six inches tall, and had hazel eyes. She was nearly certain her name was Leta Marie Singer. She had never been to New Vegas before. She was working as a Courier when she was shot. She had a younger brother. Why had she left her family? There was a reason, but she could not recall it.

The moon was high in the sky when she came across an abandoned toll booth. With her rifle leading her, she poked her head in and found nothing but dirt and spider webs. She curled up on the floor of it and wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying to keep the cold night air of the desert out of her heart.