They say every miracle last for only three days, well… in my case it was only three months. Being shot at and chased out of Vegas was one thing, but having over a hundred thousand cap bounty on your head is another. I guess I could have seen it coming… it's not like it was the first time I was played. Then again, the first time I only got shot in the head and survived, so… I might live through this too… maybe… I hope. I should start at the beginning…

I'm Evie, once a courier for Mojave Express, then just the Courier after being… well, you know, if you heard the stories. I honestly can't tell anything new about that time of my life, dug out from the sands, set out to find the asshole that put me there, met a bunch of people on the way and that sort of stuff. I'd just repeat what you already know about my adventures, while after I got shot in the head and lived to tell the tale, I regretted nothing. Heck… I tried to be a good person even when I was pushed to my limit. I made a difference in people's life and I mean that in a good way. The crazy stuff I've been through was pretty cool and… "educational" in some way.

I guess, I wanted to be a hero… or at least that is what I wanted to be. But… to tell you the truth, I was never really a good judge of character. The NCR… good folk, but with lousy leadership, the people in charge of the whole nation were either crocks, or bandits in fancy suits. They meant well, but they couldn't get things done.

The Legion on the other hand, well… I know they were bad… I know what they did and do to this day. But… and this was the point where I made the second biggest mistake of my life, I believed they can be redeemed. They talked about making bringing civilization to the wastes, and they had the power to get it done. Most of them were unreasonable, I admit that, but I believed I can reason with them as well. That is what I did…

I talked to Caesar, I talked and talked. Trying to convince him to reconsider a lot of his plans, in the end… I saw a glimmer of hope in my plans. I made him spare the Brotherhood, to let the Khans go and leave those who didn't resist be and so did he, after Hoover Dam. Things were looking good, even if most people I know didn't really agree with me, but I was stubborn, I was convinced I did the right thing. Only to be betrayed three months later… when Caesar died

The news of his demise spread like wild fire across the Mojave and across Legion territory. I on one hand was shocked, I helped him got rid of the tumor… I did whatever I could, but it was not sickness that made him kick the bucket.

Caesar, the might Son of Mars, fearless and wise leader of the Legion, was found, frozen in his own blood in his own personal suit. He was stabbed to death, by his own inner circle, the men who fed on his power. Needless to say what happened after news got out… chaos. The tribes that made up the Legion began to carve out their own little empires; warlords rose and fell by the days, until Lanius took over. His ascension marked the end of a civil war, and began a reign of terror across the Legion controlled wastes.

Me… I watched as the land burned around Vegas until the takeover. I trusted Caesar to keep his word, but Lanius… I knew he'll be coming for me soon. He did eventually, I got to admit, and he caught me off guard. His lackeys put chains on me and dragged me across the Strip as "example of defiance". He wasn't going to crucify me… he wanted to burn me at a stake, in the middle of the city so that anyone can see, there is no hope.

For his and mostly my surprise… I was saved, by people I though they left me a long time ago. On the day of my execution, I was dragged around the Strip one last time like some circus freak. At the bon, the crowd was already rallied in a circle, kept away by praetorians and their centurions. Lanius looked down on me from his seat, silently inspecting me from under his mask. I was being dragged into the circle and that was when it all happened…

- Place seems legit. – Boone claimed through his binoculars. – Small, dusty, no Legion. – He added finally standing up from the ground.

- Then what are we waiting for?! – Cass declared standing up from a rock, which she was sitting on while we were waiting for Boone. – Not to raise concerns, but we are running dry out here. –

- Tell me about it. – I added as I began to inspect my vault canteen. – Empty as always. –

- We worry about supplies later. – Boone said as he caught up with us. – No Legion doesn't automatically mean no trouble. Locals don't seem too keen on meeting strangers. –

-What makes you think that soldier man? – Cass sassed tiredly.

- I just have a feeling; it kept me alive so far. – He rolled his eyes over at Cass from under his shades.

- Guys, guys… we'll see when we get down there and ask ourselves whether they want to trade or not. Heck, I do not even know what we can barter apart from the junk and some ammo. –

- The ammo is a no go. We need it more than anything. – Boone interjected.

- Use your head a bit… bullets won't do us any good out in the desert. If the critters won't finish us, then the heat will. You can't fight the desert, no matter how much of a good shot you are. – Cass wiped her brows, and stopped for a moment.

- You OK? – I stopped and walked back to her.

- Like I said… running dry, but I'll manage. – She huffed; I could clearly tell she was slowly getting dehydrated. It hasn't been two days since our water ran out, but she was right about the desert and the ammo thing. This heat was getting more and more unbearable.

- We can stop if you want to. – I suggested, trying to give support to her.

- I'll manage, thanks. – She ducked out from my arm and continued walked after Boone, who seemed to be unaffected by the blazing sun and sand.

This was not the question of pride, even after all those months. Neither Cass nor Boone trusted me enough to let me close to any of them. I still wonder why they saved me then, sure each of them made us a reason of their own, but their eyes… their eyes told me otherwise. Even they don't know why they bothered to risk their necks to save mine, the bitch who sold the Mojave to savage slavers.

Approaching the settlement, I realized it was more defended that I thought it would be. Tall walls surrounded the compound, with no edges to hold onto. It was basically a flat brick wall, with only one gate, closed shut in front of us. The welcoming part have already assembled on top of the gatehouse, they must have seen us coming down the mountains. From what I saw, they weren't really keen on talking, more like shooting us to death and leave the bodies for the desert to claim them.

- Hola extranos, vienen a hacer problemas? – One of them asked from the top. None of us had any idea what he was asking or saying or whatever, but… the language sounded familiar to me. It somehow reminded me of Raul from Black Mountain.

- Sorry pal, no idea what you're saying. – Boone commented back at the committee.

- Ah, gringos. – The armed guy chuckled giving us a funny grind, as if he was humoring us. – Not many gringos come around here. You… are being one of very few. – Yeah, the guy's accent definitely reminded me of Raul, except this one was deeper. – What business you have here? You bring trouble; I and the chicos will… how you gringos say it? Yes… get very messy with you. –

- Trust me pal. We ain't here for trouble, in fact we are trying to get as far from trouble as possible. – I joined the conversation as soon as I was sure we could understand each other.

- Depends… depends. What do you got? –

- What? –

- You know… dinero, how is it… money. –

- We got caps if that's what you want. – Cass offered, but the guy just spat down before us.

- We not use your junk you gringos call money. If no dinero then no entry, you not look like merchants either, not coming in. – He argued once she mentioned it. Now this was something new, it seems caps are not the universal currency I thought they were.

- How about a trade? – I suggested, in hopes of convincing them to let us in.

- You think I'm stupid? You got nothing… three gringos, all alone, coming out from the mountains. Don't make me laugh, perra. Unless you mean… - He didn't finished only widened his grin and looked at me and Cass in a very suggestive manner.

-Fuck this. – Cass cursed under her hat and I could tell she was about to give up.

- No, I didn't mean it that way. – I said and dug into my pocket, only to pull out a large coin. I almost forgot about these, if anything I managed to learn from my adventure in the Sierra Madre is that greed is a very tempting, but cruel mistress.

- What's that? – He asked, bending over the edge.

- Let us in and you'll see, amigo. – Now that is the only word I managed to learned from Raul.

- Al Infierno contigo, astuta moza! Aber la puerta, hombres, pero mantener sus armas en ellos! (To Hell with you, cunning wench! Open the gate men, but keep your guns at them!) – He began to speak in his own tongue and disappeared from the top of the gatehouse. As soon as he did, the large gate opened up. Lucky for us or maybe not so much since we now faced a firing squad. – This is your lucky day, perra. – The guy from above appeared on the side of his goons. – Now… what do we have here? – There wasn't much of a choice for us, we either try to bargain with these bandits or whatever they were or die of thirst in the dessert.

Cass and Boone didn't look too keen on stepping inside, but neither of us had a chance to run anymore, since they were aiming right at us. Since I got us into this situation, I decided to step up and figure things out. I took the coin out again and the guy snatched it out of my hand immediately. At first he was just looking at it, then once he was it glimmer, he bit on the thing.

- Qué es? – One of the goons wanted to have a look at it to, only to be kneed in the face by the "boss".

- Dios mío, oro. (My god, gold) – He muttered it under his mustache and looked up at me with suspicion in his eyes. – Where did you get this? –

- That's my and my friend's business, so… do we have a deal? – I acted cool; I was already giving too much away about the "emergency" reserve. The guys face lit up and began to laugh, soon the whole group joined in and he patted me on the shoulder. – Come on in… carino, come on in! – With that he soon turned friendly, leading us, especially me, further into the compound.

- So, carino. – The "chief" lead us to the center building, while always keeping an eye on me. – Where do you gringos come from? Your kind is not very common around these mountains. –

- We're from Vegas, been on the run for some time now. Trekking across two states and a bunch of enemy territory drained our supplies. –

- Si, si… I can understand that, carino. – The guy nodded as if he actually understood our situation. – But… let's get down to business. – With that he waved at the group that followed us, cutting me from Cass and Boone.

- Hey! – I called out, knowing where this was going.

- No, no. Don't be worried, carino. – He hushed calmly. – Your amigos will be fine; you seem to be bright carino. You and I will do business, they can go around camp as much as they like. – He looked over to the group and nodded. Boone and Cass exchanged suspicious glares with me, but seeing that they haven't started shooting at us, they both decided to go their separate ways. I just hoped this won't end badly.

(Somewhere near Las Cruces)

- Another caravan huh? – An old, but burly man with a dark grey beard said while he looked at a dirty sheet of paper.

- It is the 18th this month, deputy. – A much younger, but dirty faced man confirmed adjusting his goggles. – The merchants are considering to move on, to local communities are afraid. No matter how well armed the caravans are, that Thing, tear right through them like… like bullet through ragged Brahmin hide. –

- What about the Mexicans? – The deputy asked, looking up from the sheet with a grim expression.

- They don't care, they locked Las Cruces down and said they ain't sendin' nobody to deal with mythical critters and shit. Well… if She would' a torn through their boys too, I'd dare them to call 'er "mythical". – The man with the goggles spat the tobacco out he finished chewing. –

- Guess Santa Anna aint caring much about the folk he tries to "reconquer". – The deputy muttered under his beard and got up from his chair. – Good job Wally… keep an eye out fer any trouble and yer ears open fer any news, 'kay? – The deputy placed both hands on Wally's shoulders.

- Sure do, deputy. I'll be watchin'. – Wally gave the old deputy a thumb up and left his office.

Deputy Dylan Horst, a seasoned man of the wastelands and not a bad shot when it comes to a gunfight. At the age of 56 he still worked and fought as hard as any youngster in the neighboring counties. He was made deputy of this little ol' dusty town when he managed to scare a group of raiders off with only six bullets and his two fists. Folks around here respected the gentle giant, as Horst was tall, taller than any man around Las Cruces. His term as deputy was almost short lived, this Mexican, who came up from the south with any army in tow took the ruins a few months ago, with that he also declared the other towns and communities as his own.

Santa Anna and his men were not very popular, and while they had the men and firepower to deal with raiders, bandits and other none organized groups, they didn't exactly had the supplies for an armed rebellion from a coalition of towns around Silver City. Santa Anna left them alone, once he realized he and his goons had no chance in fighting them in the mountains. He instead offered folk, like Deputy Horst to keep their office and allowed them to look out for the community in his stead. Ever since then, Deputy Horst wasn't just the keeper of the law, but also the head of the community now.

Although, Santa Anna wasn't the least of their problems, beside the Beast of the Mountains the merchants that manage to get through unscathed, are spreading news about a big shit storm brewing over in the west. Some other faction named the Legion is getting restless on the other side of the mountains. If they happen to cross the ridges, well… either Santa Anna will welcome them with a gift basket and hugs or they'll be staring down the barrels of the Mexican artillery. Either way, communities like his will suffer, as always.

(Legion forward encampment, somewhere in the Sierra Diablo)

The stench comes from this place… so… familiar… so… disgusting. I remember… pain… so much… great pain. My blood boils at their sight, I can feel it… I can feel the monster inside me churn… it wants blood… I want blood, I NEED BLOOD!

I loud roar echoed through the small valley where the legionaries set up their camp. The night watch quickly snapped their heads looking for the source of the beastly sound. They didn't have to wait for long, as the creature leaped down from the cliffs landing right between them. Expanding its strong arms she tore large gashed into the two guards, blood spewed out from the wounds as the two men screamed in pain. Their comrades rushed to the gate to confront the monster.

She met the legionaries head on letting our one louder roar before charging into the fray. She immediately impaled the first soldier and slammed the lifeless body into the next, one of the men attacked her with a machete, but the blade just bounced off her skin. She slashed and the grunt's head was sent flying backwards. A circle of legionaries has soon formed around her, but with every slash the circle got smaller and smaller until all that was left of the camp were just a handful of grunts and their centurion.

Seeing that the fight was lost the veteran legionary ran, as he turned tails the rest have broken as well. She watched as the men fled with terror, their screams filling the night air. She got on all four and began chasing the survivors, one by one she hunted them down like the savage animal she was. Only the centurion was left who managed to get a head start, but his advantage was shortly begun to diminish as the gap between him and Her decreased.

With one leap she was now on top of the scared soldier, with a swift slash she severed the man's legs from the rest of his body making him impossible to escape her now. She threw the heavily bleeding man a few feet away letting him scream a bit more before killing him. Slowly approaching him she gave off a weird chuckle as much as her new vocal cords allowed her to laugh at this trash's misery. Her laughter was like a mixture of cracking and huffing, with an occasional growl added into the notes.

By the end of the night an entire Legion encampment was destroyed, only bloody body parts and chunks of human flesh remained. Those who fled told their centurions about a creature, a monster resembling a Deathclaw. The Legion executed the cowards who, in their belief, tried to cover their shame with such a myth. Unknown to them, the monster has finally gotten a taste of Legion blood and she was out for more.

Hello there!

Sorry for another late update, but lately I wasn't really in the mood for writting any Fallout fics, but as I was browsing through my files I found this chapter almost finished, so I said to myself why not?

This story focuses in my Courier character who was a female, gunslinger+explosives character through my playthrough in F:NV. This story takes place years after the Legion victory. In my head cannon Caesar manages to take the Strip, but dies shortly after because of his tumor. Lanius takes over and after that this story begins.

I hope you enjoyed it, please review and sorry for any grammar or spelling errors.

Until next time!