Chapter 9: A Guilty Conscious

Furious and frustrated, the Courier wiped away the dirt that had clotted on the sleeves of his duster. In the distance, he could see the one Legion scout who managed to escape, clamoring over the hill to the east, probably heading back to where his fellows were likely to be camping out. Unclenching his teeth for a moment, he glared at his companion and screamed, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"They were Legion, so I killed them. They all should be put down like dogs. Even you agreed with me on that," the other man stated coldly. The other man, who was tall, well, built, and had a buzzed haircut was casually cleaning his rifle as if nothing critical had just occurred. Unlike Miles, he wasn't physically engaged by the Legion forces that he had attacked, so his leather armor was unscathed and his red beret and sunglasses remained untouched. Once he was done with his cleaning, he knelt down next to the nearest dead legionnaire, took out his hunting knife, and began to cut at the man's ear. What for? Some sort of trophy? For NCR payment? The Courier was too angry to care.

"Yes, I said that, but that doesn't mean I want to fight them! I'm a courier, not a soldier! I'd like to make it to thirty, you know?"

"Maybe you've forgotten," the man continued, his tone still dull and bored, "the Legion enslaved my wife. And now that I'm unrestrained by the NCR, I'm going to hunt them all down until I blow Caesar's head right off of his fucking shoulders."

"Well, maybe you should have told me this BEFORE you decided to shoot at them and drag me into a firefight with the most dangerous tribe in the wasteland! That last guy got away! He's going to tell his superiors and the next thing you know, they'll be after us! Maybe you don't care about throwing your life away, but I'd rather not end up strung up on a cross!"

"You know, I thought you wouldn't be such a coward," the man said, his voice empty and calm. "You have no problem searching and getting revenge on the man that shot you in the head, but when it comes to my revenge-"

"That's because I'm not going to go in shooting up the place like I'm on psycho! In a city full or tribals and armed robots, that would be idiotic! Your idea of revenge is suicide!" the Courier retorted. He was about ready to punch the guy in the face, though considering how coolly the man was taking everything, he doubted he'd even feel it. "You want to fight the Legion like this, just being a one-man killing machine? One man can't stop the Legion! They'll catch you eventually, no matter how good of a shot you are; you have to realize that. Do you think that that's the best way to go about it? To just keep killing them until they get you? They will get you eventually! You know that, right?"

The sniper just stared at him blankly for a moment before lowering his gun and sighing. "Well then, I guess I'll send as many of them to Hell as I can."

"Okay, you're fucking crazy. I don't want anything to do with the Legion and I don't want anything to do with you. Enjoy your commando wet dream, 'cause I'm out."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving? You know, after what you said in Nipton, I assumed-"

"You assumed wrong. If you want to get hung up on a cross, I won't stop you, but count me out."

For a moment, the man said nothing. He stood there staring at the Courier before picking up his pack, securing it to his back, and facing east. "Then good luck with your petty revenge quest, Zack. I'm going to do something that matters. I'm going to make them bleed out." And just like that, the man walked away, heading east without fear to search for whatever he was looking for. By the sounds of it, it was more headshots.

"Jesus…" Once again, the Courier stood alone in the Mojave. In a matter of ten minutes, he got into a surprise battle with the Legion, almost got killed, fought with his traveling companion, and split from the man. After the whirlwind of events they had been through in the past few days, the separation seemed so quick and unsatisfactory. But he was left with another problem. On top of his everything else he had to deal with, he knew that the Legion would be coming for him. If that one scout that got away made it to camp, they'd know his face. They'd come for him, beat him, torture him, and then hang him out to dry on a cross. Or if he was lucky, they'd kill him right away, but he wouldn't accept that.

"I need to fix this." But he knew the solution would be messy.


Miles finally had some time to himself to sit and think. After combat practice, the Courier volunteered to take the first watch. Veronica offered to take it instead, saying that he looked tired, but Miles refused. "It's the gentleman's thing to do," he insisted, though really, he just wanted to get his fix. He sat outside the little gas station with a small fire burning to keep him warm during the cold, desert night, and his pip-boy radio playing softly. The country song, Stars of the Midnight Range, was playing, and although it didn't match his taste in music, it was nice to hear on that quiet night.

Normally, he would have hid out in the gas station with Veronica and watch from one of the cracks in the boarded up windows, but the inside was very cramped and he felt safe enough outside of Fiend territory to camp out. That, and he wanted to hear the news about any other activities in the Mojave after what happened at Camp Forlorn Hope. Even so, his nerves were getting to him, so he kept his SMG in hand as he stared into the dark distance. Med-X would have helped, relaxing his tension, but he was going to take it when he was that paranoid. Every bump in the night that he heard made him jumpy. Raiders, animals, NCR mercenaries sent to silence him for good, if Gorobets changed his mind: he was wide-eyed as he continually scanned what his vision was allowed. The stars, the moon, and the lights from New Vegas gave him some clarity, but not enough to see more than twenty feet away.

"Howdy folks, it's Mr. New Vegas, and I have a good feeling about all of you listening."

Well, you're the only one. Still, he appreciated the thought, even if it was just a comfort line for the listeners in general.

"I got some good news tonight in New Vegas, so let me adjust my news reading glasses… for those of you who were let down by the news of Camp Forlorn Hope earlier today, we've just received some good news to balance it out. As it turns out, a couple of mercenaries brought in the heads of both Cook-Cook and Driver Nephi, two of the Fiend leaders residing in the ruins of Old Vegas. These decapitations were received with much praise, and we can all learn from this that with a little bit of hard work and perseverance, it's easy to get ahead, if not two, in life. Also in the news…"

"Hmm..." He might have laughed at the lame joke if he were in a better mood.

"Sounds like you've been busy, Courier."

That voice gave Miles the sensation equivalent to jumping out of his skin. He looked up to see a man in a red hood and bronze armor plating looking down at him with a cold expression. The man looked like he was in his early to mid-thirties and he had one of those plasma spears that the Courier had heard about but had never seen, though the spear wasn't pointed at him. The man was clearly Legion and he had appeared out of nowhere. Legion soldiers were good at that shit, even without stealthboys.

Panicked, Miles snapped his SMG into position, aiming it right at the man who looked down upon him, but he heard more footsteps. A turn of his head revealed a half-dozen other Legion soldiers.

"I'd put that down if I were you. You couldn't stop all of us even if we let you shoot first." It was the vexillarius who spoke. He carried the Legion's flag on his back, but surprisingly, instead of a coyote cap like what he had seen Vulpes wear, this man donned the head and skin of a Yao Gui. Surrounded by legionnaires in real armor, masks with feathers sprouting from the top, and weapons ranging from hunting rifles to massive machetes, Miles knew that the group who had found him was no ordinary Legion exploring party, as their decanus was with them. They were after something: probably blood.

"If I put down this gun, how do I know you won't kill me or drag me to your camp for whatever godforsaken reason?" He'd rather go down swinging if he had no choice. The man, the decanus, who had first spoken to him laughed as he stepped around into the firelight.

"Boy, we've been tracking you. If we wanted to do either of those things, we would have done it by now, rather than appearing here as we have. We just want to speak with you. Is that so surprising, considering your affiliation with us?"

"I am not affiliated with you." Even so, the Courier placed his gun on the ground in front of him. The decanus nodded in approval at the Courier's disarming.

"Good. Good. Those foolish profligates from the west would have shot at us without regard for their lives. You are clearly more intelligent," the decanus continued.

"Just what is it that you want? I haven't done-"

"Hold your tongue, or I shall cut it from your mouth, Gilmore. You will speak when we wish it," the vexillarius cut in forcefully. He stepped forward, glaring down at the Courier with contempt. "You know why we are here. Where is he?"

Miles tilted his head. "Who?"

"The profligate, Craig Boone" the decanus clarified. "Since your supposed departure from this man, he has killed nearly fifty legionnaires; each one shot through the head."

Boone. There was a name Miles wished he didn't have to hear again. I thought I was done with this. "How do you know it was him? He's not the only man with a gun in the Mojave."

"Ears," the decanus responded coolly. "It has become his mark. He takes an ear from every man he kills. He wants us to know that he's out there, killing our men. He's trying to send a message." His frown deepened. "Unfortunately, he has been hard to track. He never stays in one place long enough to be discovered, so we've found fallen legionnaires from our encampments in the east to as far out west as the ruins of the old world. You, on the other hand, have been far easier to track. So Vulpes Inculta, leader of the Frumentarii, demanded that we find and question you."

"He should know that I wouldn't know. I haven't seen Boone in…" He counted the days for a second. "Two weeks? Yeah, that sounds about right. I don't know."

"But you do, don't you?" the decanus challenged. "This man here," he said, pointing to the legionnaire among the crowd. "The two recruits that were with him were shot through the head and their ears were taken. He managed to escape. However, after passing this news to me, a party was sent to retrieve the bodies. That's when they saw you and a young woman in robes inspecting them; touching them." He smirked. "You know that the cost of a dissolute that touches a corpse of a Legion soldier is his hands, correct?"

"But you didn't come for my hands… didn't you?" Miles said this with a mix of caution, knowing that they very well could take his hands that very night. However, he tried to exude courage. While he knew that being too prideful was dangerous, he also knew that the Legion had no respect for the weak. He had to find a balance.

"No. One of the scouts recognized you from your visit to Nelson. He knew that Vulpes would be upset if you were harmed. He views you as a tool, you see. An extension of himself. And you-"

"Shut your fucking mouth." He didn't shout it, but said it with the most disgust, teeth gritted and his hunting knife that he had drawn from his side clenched in his fist as he stood up, right in the decanus's face. The man did not flinch and why would he? He knew that Miles wouldn't attack him when he was surrounded by a six other Legion soldiers. Even so, the sudden burst was enough to draw the aim of every gun, machete, and spear. But decanus man only laughed.

"Mmm, there's the Courier they speak of. The one who's fearless. Not some sniveling little boy pumping himself with Med-X."

"I said shut the fuck up," the Courier hissed. "I am not his tool. I am not the Legion's tool."

"Yet it is because of you that the profligates at Forlorn Hope have fallen," the decanus reminded him, his smile twisting further. "Surely, you know this by now."

"I did what I had to do. I paid my debts, and I was told that I would be left alone! So-"

"Until Craig Boone is hanging from a cross, you will know no such peace, Courier."

Miles stepped back from the man towards the wall of the gas station, knife still clenched in hand. Not that it mattered. Even if he could kneel down to grab his gun, it wouldn't matter. "I don't know where he is. If I had to guess, he's probably at some sort of choke point on one of your routes. You know your route better than I do, so you tell me."

"Not good enough." The leader's grip on his spear tightened. "Nothing that we can't-"

The gas station door swung open. "Hey Zack, are you talking to your…" Veronica's voice trailed off once she saw the seven Legionnaires surrounding them. "Shit…" Somehow, her face went even more pale. "Uh, Zack-"

"V, I need you to stay calm and don't move-" the Courier said through gritted teeth.

"Zack, what's going on? Why are they here? Why-"

"V, shut up. Just please, shut up."

"Ah, so this is the robed woman. She is quite pale. A rarity in these parts." The decanus stepped forward and brought the tip of his spear right to her throat without touching it. Veronica gasped lightly, pressing herself against the wall as if that could push herself farther away from the blade. "Now, you tell me-"

"Watch yourself, skirt," Miles warned. "If you hurt her-"

"I will if you speak out of turn again," the decanus growled. At that, the rest of the soldiers moved in even closer and the vexillarius drew his machete, holding it close to Miles's face. The Courier turned his head to Veronica to see her petrified expression. Even a skilled combatant like herself knew that fighting back would yield fruitless results. Even if she was wearing her power gauntlet, she was pinned.

"Lie to me and I'll kill you within the second," the decanus explained. "You have traveled with this courier for how many long?"

Her breathing was getting heavier as she looked over to Miles, fear showing through. She looked back at the Vexillarius, gulped, and answered, "f-five days… It's been five days now."

"Mhmm, good. Good girl. Now tell me," he continued, "during this time, did you ever encounter a former NCR sharpshooter named Craig Boone? Tall, well-built, Caucasian, uses a sniper rifle, always wears a red beret."

For a moment, the fear turned to confusion as she glanced around, namely at Miles, hoping he could somehow save her from this. "We were at an NCR base today, b-but he wasn't there. Otherwise, nobody of that d-description."

"Hmph," the decanus grunted. "Have you ever heard the Courier speak of this man?"

"Once, I think," she answered. Her body was frozen from the excessive adrenaline rush. "When we found those dead Legion scouts, he mentioned the name after finding that their ears were cut off."

"Yes, and what did he say about it?" he asked, prodding for more.

"He didn't say much. Something about how he was a psychopath. That's it, right?" Her eyes turned back to him, but the cold Vexillarius called her attention back.

"No, don't look at him, girl. Look at me." He just barely tapped the tip of his spear against her throat, just strong enough to draw a single drop of blood. "You say that you've never met Craig Boone, nor has the Courier talked of him. But was there any point in time within the past two days where Zachary left you for an extended period of time? Maybe to look for his friend?"

She had to think about it for a split second, but she shook her head slightly. "No. The only time was when we were both being medically treated this morning, but he was in the next room over and-"

"Fine." He pulled the spear away from Veronica and stepped away, looking back at Miles. "It appears your friend has nothing-"

"Gallus, how can you be sure she isn't lying?" the vexillarius questioned indignantly. "How do we know they hadn't prepared for what you would ask? How-"

"She is not," the decanus stated. "Women have weak constitutions. They'll crumble under the slightest pressure."

"Hey!" Veronica seemed angered by the sexist remark, but if Miles could tell her that it wasn't the time, he would have. "I could have lied if I-"

"Enough!" The decanus's anger had risen. Turning back to the Courier, his voice turned to a growl. "Now listen to me, Courier Zachary Gilmore: you say that your debt has been paid, but in the end, whether you choose to admit it or not, you shall always be indebted to Caesar for saving this world from itself. Until the next time you are needed, you are free to continue on your way. But remember who you are. Remember who we are." Slowly and silently, they all backed into the darkness as quickly as they had arrived.

Just like that, they were alone again. Miles turned to Veronica who was just staring into the black, her eyes still filled with paranoia and confusion. Of course, she didn't know what had just happened, and her body was as stiff as a board.

Miles touched her shoulder. "Veronica, let me-"

She decked him. Her rigid body broke and in one lightning-fast move, her fist smashed into his nose. None of his combat training with her could have prepared him for that.

"You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?!" she roared, her pale face now fiery and flushed.

"Veronica, we can't-" He murmured, trying to talk through the hands he clamped over his face.

"They said you were indebted to them! What does that mean?! Start talking NOW!"

"Veronica!" He took his hands from his face, stood up, and glared. "We can't talk about this right now. Those legionnaires couldn't have gotten that far," he hissed in a low whisper. "If they're still listening-"

"Holy crap, I broke your nose." The rage that filled her had suddenly drained and she wore a concerned expression instead. "Are you-"

"Okay? Yeah, I deserved that." Holding a sleeve to his nose, he tried to stop the blood. I just cleaned this too.

"Zack, I'm sorry, but we need to talk. If not now, in the morning when we can see."

"Fine, I owe that much. I shouldn't have withheld that. Get me a stimpack?"

"On it." Veronica went back into the gas station and when she returned, they were left with the ugly task of snapping the Courier's nose back in place.

Here it goes. 1, 2…

The obscenities that were screamed were heard for miles.


The next morning was filled with awkward silences as neither the courier nor the scribe knew what to say. Miles was still convinced that there may have been Legion spies around their location and he wanted to wait to talk about what was going on. So in silence, they ate, exercised, and packed up.

Once outside, Miles did a sweep to see if there were any Legion spies. The effort was futile, as even he knew that they could probably evade him. However, if they were around, they knew that they would have to be careful not to get spotted. He decided that it would be safe to talk about what had happened, but quietly, and with him constantly looking around for anybody that might be tailing him.

Veronica listened to the story of how Boone had opened fire on a party of Legion soldiers and scouts, dragging him into a fight that he didn't want to be a part of. Ever since, the Legion had been in the back of his mind and there was little he could do other than try to play their game.

"That's… unfortunate," Veronica said in response to his story. As scary as the Legion was, she had not known the fear of the Legion until that soldier had a spear to her throat. For Miles, it must have been much worse. "Why didn't you tell me anything about this before? You told me a lot of other stuff about yourself."

"I barely told you anything about this for a reason," he replied, still glancing around for spies. "Besides, telling people that the Legion has been keeping tabs on you isn't exactly a good way of garnering trust.

"I think I could have handled it. If you can accept me being Brotherhood, I can-"

"Shhh! Not so loud," he hushed her, stopping to glance around.

So paranoid. Hope he'll tell me more. "Well, I can accept it. So would you mind telling me more? I'd feel more comfortable if you did."

"After last night, I agree. Ask me anything… anything about the Legion issue, that is."

Oh crap, I really wanted to use that technicality. "Okay, so who is Craig Boone?"

"Okay, that one's easy." Another double-take and he began. "Boone is- no, was an NCR soldier; 1st Recon sharpshooter to be exact. You think I'm a good shot, he's better than me, even without the V.A.T.S. He was on tour in the Mojave, but when his tour ended, he decided to call it quits. Something…" He touched his chin. "Something happened. I'm not sure why he left, but he did. He got married and settled down in Novac where he and a buddy of his worked guard duty. He had married some woman in New Vegas, but she… one of the townspeople sold her and her unborn child to the Legion."

Jesus… But instead of voicing that thought, she wanted to hear more. "What happened?"

"I arrived in Novac, penniless. I got hired to do some dirty work by one of the town's officials in investigating the REPCONN test site. Ghouls kept flooding in from up there and they wanted me to see what was up. But I bumped into Boone that day as well. He knew I was a drifter, so he asked me to meet him that night during his shift."

"And you did?" Veronica asked, already knowing the answer.

"He knew somebody in town had sold his wife and child, and he said he knows that they were both dead. I don't know how he knows, but he does, so he says. He wanted me to find out who it was. He said he would have done it himself, but he believed that if whoever was responsible was watching him. So that night, I did a little bit of snooping and I found out that the lady who rented out motel rooms was responsible; kept the transaction papers in her safe. I tricked her into walking out in front of that old dinosaur and he sniped her. Just like that."

"Wait, hold on," Veronica cut in. She wanted to understand everything she had just heard, trying to piece together the eternal puzzle that was the Courier. "You helped him kill a woman? I mean, not like a raider or anything, but a townswoman? That didn't bother you? Even if you think she deserved it, don't you-"

"No," he answered curtly. "You want to know the truth? If somebody were to sell someone I cared about into slavery and that lead to their death, I'd want them dead too. You don't have to agree with me on the morality of that, but-"

"No, no, I get it." She thought of her parents and she completely understood. "Didn't you two worry about getting caught?"

"Me, no. I didn't shoot the bullet. I may have helped, but I didn't do it and nobody could prove that. Boone, however, he was a respected member of their community. Novac isn't under NCR's thumb yet, but people respect a 1st Recon guy. Nobody is going to think that he did it."

"And… what did you mean by 'the dinosaur'? You brought her in front of a dinosaur?" Dumb as it sounded, that part of the story stuck out to her.

"You've never been to Novac? There's a big ass dinosaur building there in front of the motel. It was probably a tourist thi- Ugh, forget the dinosaur," he groaned, sounding somewhat annoyed that she bothered to want that detail clarified. "Point is, after that, he said that he wanted to get out of that town. Can't blame him on that. He said something about killing Legion soldiers, but I didn't think he'd seriously do it like some sort of bloodthirsty commando. We should have gone our separate ways then, but I asked him if he wanted to come along with me on the REPCONN job. He did, and we cleared out those nightkin and feral ghouls. Afterwards, we helped the ghoul cult that was living there build their rockets and fly off-"

"Wait, you did that?" Her eyes lit up and a smile that had been gone for the greater part of the day. "I saw that! I mean, I saw those rockets flying north. Nobody back home had any idea what that was about."

"Yeah, that was us. Those ghouls were trying to make it to the 'Promised Land' or something. Honestly, those rockets probably crashed, but whatever makes them happy, I guess," he said with a shrug. "But yeah, when we were done with that, we picked up or pay, got the info we needed on where the Khans were, and we started heading north… and pretty much the moment we left Novac, Boone decided that he wanted to get us killed. Does that clear things up?"

"Okay, well…" Another awkward question was on her mind. "Between then and the time we met… they said something about paying a debt. What was that all about?"

"What do you think?"

Veronica sensed a bit of defensiveness in his voice. Obviously, it was a sensitive subject for him, so carefully in a calm voice, she tried to figure it out. "Okay, well, you were there when Boone attacked them. I assume you shot at them too, right?"

"Yes," he answered as if he was in a trance. "It was either us or them once Boone did that."

"So that was the debt you had to pay for? The fact that you killed Legion soldiers?" It was an easy conclusion to come to, but she was easily working her way to the truth that she wanted.

"Pretty much."

She could see it in his eyes. Miles knew what was coming next.

"So, what did you do for the Legion so that they wouldn't kill you?" The question she wanted to know from the get-go had finally been asked.

"V, what I tell you… you promise you're not going to judge me too harshly? What I did… I'm not proud of it. I just really didn't want to get crucified."

What could he have done that was so bad? "Of course. Miles, again, if you can accept me as a Brotherhood member, I can-"

"Thanks, but don't call me that," he reminded her in a cold interruption. "And you won't tell anybody about this? And I mean nobody at all can know. If the NCR-"

"Of course! Why would I even want to tell them? Come on, you know me better than that."

"Alright, fine." He sighed. "Well, it happened like this…"


If there were any NCR soldiers hiding in the mountains, they wouldn't recognize him or be able to give an accurate description of what he looked like. The courier wore a brown colored duster instead of his typical gray one, thick brimmed sunglasses, and a ball cap that he tucked his hair into. The duster didn't fit right, but he had bought it for a few caps and he planned on ditching it as soon as he was done.

Nelson looked just as he expected it to. The little, once NCR controlled town looked to be in rough shape with building damage and the like. Little fires burned within the spaces of the buildings and Legion soldiers were scattered from what he saw. Some were patrolling, others were exercising and training, and a few were chatting with each other. But all of them noticed his arrival. Seeing a non-legion individual who wasn't a trader bearing the mark of the Legion was unusual. He made sure not to show fear, despite knowing that this gamble could be one of the riskiest ones he ever took. It was either roll the dice and possibly die doing so or do anything else and get killed for sure. When he saw three NCR soldiers hanging up on the crosses in the center of the encampment, his inner fear was fed further.

"Halt!"

He did as he was told, holding his hands up in the air as several Legion soldiers surrounded him. Though they accepted his "surrender", without warning, they patted him down, pulling out every exposed and hidden weapon he had available. Never had he been subject to such a thorough pat down, even in the casinos. One by one, his weapons were dropped at their feet. Once they were done, they stood back, holding their machetes in case he tried to go at them with his fists. No, he wasn't that stupid.

"What business do you have here, outsider? You are no trader, so take your weapons and-"

"Who is your decanus?" Miles asked. "Is he here? I would like to speak with him."

The soldier who addressed him raised an eyebrow at the question. He was so surprised that he didn't even get upset that Miles had interrupted him. "Interesting… many of the dissolute don't know our ranks. Our decanus is called Dead Sea, but he is elsewhere. Even if he was here, he wouldn't waste his time speaking with the likes of you. So again, take your weapons and leave this place, lest you wish to hang from the cross like the profligates." He pointed to the NCR soldiers that the Courier had spotted already.

"Well, who can I-"

"Hey! Don't let him leave!" A low-ranking scout, who unlike the more veteran soldiers, was wearing old sports equipment instead of legitimate armor, ran up to the group. "I know this man! He was with that NCR sharpshooter that murdered the party I was with! He killed one of our men!"

"Hmm… and here he is." The interrogating legionnaire stepped forward, inches from Miles's face. The other two inched closer as well. "And you thought it was wise to walk right into our camp? Tell me, is what this scout said true?"

He knew what he had to say. He planned to say it from the beginning, after all. "Yes. I came to-"

"Take him." On the legionnaire's command, the other two soldiers took Miles by the arms.

"No, wait, I-"He was silenced by a punch to the stomach.

"It doesn't matter if you came here on your own volition or not," the veteran continued stoically. "The punishment for killing a Legion soldier is death. It turns out you will be joining the profligates after all."

"NO! I'm here to-"

"Stay where you stand!" a new voice ordered. It had been some time since the Courier had heard that voice, but the new sound was enough to send goosebumps all throughout his body.

"Vulpes." The interrogator stopped and turned his attention to his superior. Sure enough, the leader of the frumentarii stepped forward. While he still wore a superior set of metal armor, he no longer dawned the coyote hood, and his white, wispy-haired man still carried an aura of coldness about him. His flashing gray eyes were still piercing enough to break the metaphorical steel that the Courier kept surrounding his constitution.

"I will deal with this one personally. Trust me when I say that he will not be difficult."

"Vulpes," the soldier said, "with all due respect, he killed-"

"Yes, I heard him." The older man motioned for them to let go of the Courier and with slight annoyance, they followed his command. The men stepped back and allowed Vulpes to have his space with his prey. "You are either very brave or very stupid, coming here. Most guilty of this crime would have fled far away from here if they could... Not that it would have mattered."

"Well you know I'm not like them," Miles replied. Of course, Vulpes remembered that. "I'm smart enough to know that I can't outrun the Legion."

"Yes," he replied. "You are smart…" He snickered cruelly. "I already know why you are here. You were with Craig Boone. We know who he is. He makes his presence well known now, killing men of the Legion and taking their ears, like he wants to send us a message. A futile attempt. He is but a minor nuisance at best to Caesar's Legion. Still, he is a problem nonetheless." He took another step closer and stared into the Courier's eyes. "You didn't fire first. I know you."

"You've only seen me once before. You don't know a damn thing about me," Miles growled, but Vulpes wagged his finger at this.

"Is that the way you speak to the man who just saved you from crucifixion?" Vulpes asked with false kindness. "You need to let go of this hardened 'tough guy' persona you keep falling back on, because it doesn't suit you." Like a shark, Vulpes began to slowly circle the Courier. "I know enough about you. The look you wore on your face that day we met you in Nipton; you fear us. You fear the Legion. You are right to do so. While the mighty Caesar is the salvation of humanity, he is also to be respected by the Legion, those we lord over, and the dissolute, such as yourself."

"What, you trying to crucify my dignity instead?" He didn't understand the Frumentarii's current power trip.

"That would hardly be a suitable punishment," Vulpes answered, stopping in front of him now. He turned to the scout and asked, "who shot at your party first?"

"The NCR guy. Sniped Claudius. But I don't see-"

"Enough," Vulpes snapped. Turning back to Miles, he continued. "I know you wouldn't shoot first, Courier. You fear us too much. And in a perfect world, I wouldn't blame you for killing that Legion soldier who attacked you. As I have told you before, this world is harsh. We must do what we can to survive and you only acted in self-defense. However, this world we live in is far from perfect; you were involved in the deaths of four legionnaires, so you must face some sort of punishment. But you came here today in search of a solution to your problem. Because you brought yourself here on your own will in search of clemency for your crime, I shall be lenient."

"Lenient?" Miles questioned, an eyebrow rising. That could mean anything. By Legion standards, lenient could mean a year of slave labor or worse.

"Vulpes," the original interrogator began, " he should be crucified. Caesar's law states-"

"My duty," Vulpes growled in an interruption, "is to further the Legion's goals within the extent of my position as a frumentarii. Need I remind you?"

The soldier didn't respond, so Vulpes began again with Miles. "To answer your question, anything would be lenient compared to death. We could cut out your tongue, but that punishment wouldn't further our cause any. I could have you enslaved, but that seems like such a waste, and unlike the men of the backward tribes we conquer, enslavement would likely make you too resentful. No, you'd be far more useful working for me."

"Working for you?" The Courier had no idea what that entailed. Did he mean permanently? No, he said no slavery. What was that all about?

"It turns out, I have a job for you Courier. It involves a shipment, so it meets your career expertise. My sources have informed me that this shipment in question is critical to the NCR and it will be arriving at the Mojave Outpost within a few days, so I need you to destroy it. It's a job that I could give to another frumentarii, but why risk their life when I can risk yours?"

The way he asked that last question hinted at his amusement of the Courier risking his life at no cost to Vulpes or the Legion. Both of them knew that if he were found tampering with an NCR shipment, he could be punished by death. The NCR used to favor imprisonment, but in times of war, justice was swift. How could he do that sort of thing without being discovered? Of course, the NCR wouldn't suspect him, considering that he was on good terms with the soldiers in the Mojave. But would that give him enough security that he could do a job for the Legion? He didn't even want to work for them to begin with. However, considering he had little choice, he would hear them out.

"I… I don't want to kill anybody else," he mumbled nervously. He was certain that Vulpes would make fun of him for having a soft heart, but the man just chuckled slightly.

"And if you can find a way of destroying the cargo without killing, I would expect you to do so. A lone, unaligned civilian such as yourself would not want to be the target of the Bear. However…" Vulpes looked over towards the dying NCR soldiers and pointed to the empty, makeshift cross that stood there. "This is the only chance I will give you. If you refuse to take this job, if you fail this job and survive, or if you try to run, I will have you crucified for your crimes." He stepped forward, devilishly grinning, and whispered, "It's an incredibly painful experience. You start to have difficulty breathing until your body finally gives in and your organs fail. That can take days; days you spend hanging there, waiting and hoping for death when death won't come swiftly. So, think about it this way: if you are caught stealing from the NCR, they'll shoot you. It will be swift. You may fear their retaliation, but you should fear Caesar more. Our punishment is far more… enduring. Does that put things in perspective for you, Courier?"

It did. He clearly understood the ultimatum that Vulpes had proposed: either possibly die a swift death in dealing with the NCR or definitely die a slow, painful death by refusing the Legion. There was only one thing left that made the decision difficult: what would his actions do to the NCR? He didn't care for the Bear, but he liked them a hell of a lot better than the Legion. Still, he didn't plan on dying, especially for something that Boone dragged him into.

He let out a defeated sigh. "I'll do it. But I'll need to be briefed on everything you know. I'm not walking in blind."

Vulpes's smile widened. "You've made the right choice, Courier. Now come. We shall discuss the details." But those details only skimmed the surface of the bigger picture.


He told Veronica about the details of the mission. He only had a window if a few hours on the day the cargo arrived at the outpost to destroy it. Vulpes had given him some explosives and a detonator that he planned on giving to the spy who he originally planned to send. All the while, the scribe didn't say a word as she listened intently. If she was judging him, she was doing a damn good job at hiding it.

"So, how did you do it?" she asked him as if he had just told her nothing of significance.

"Huh?"

"Zack, obviously you didn't get caught. How did you do it?" she repeated.

"Well, remember when I told you about how we fought nightkin at the REPCONN building?" When she shook her head 'yes', he continued. "They were using those old stealthboy things to turn invisible. It's like they're addicted to the stuff. But yeah, I found an untapped stealthboy on one of the mutants we fought. I was holding onto it for the right buyer, but I ended up using it to sneak into the facility where the NCR was storing the cargo before it was to be shipped. It was some nice stuff too." He frowned remembering what was lost. "I would have stolen what I could carry if I had to blow it up, but I was afraid that those guns and armor would be recognizable. So, I only stole the bullets for the guns I had, I attached the C4, and once I was outside the base, I pressed the button. I heard the boom, and that's when I ran before the stealthboy ran out of juice."

"Wow." Veronica actually seemed amazed with his accomplishment. "That's crazy that you could do that without getting caught. You're like an espionage expert or something."

"I got lucky," he admitted, a sullen look crossing over his face. "I was lucky that I had enough time and that I was able to pick the lock to that building. I can pick locks, but I'm not exactly fast at it."

"But you did it. You survived what most people would have failed at. There's something to be said about that." She was putting what he did in such a positive light, but he didn't feel any better about it.

"But I aided the Legion," he reminded her.

"Who cares? I mean, sure, they're a bunch of misogynistic assholes, but you were going to die if you didn't and it's not like you're betraying your country. You aren't NCR and they would have killed you!" She just couldn't understand why that bothered him, and he knew he would have to explain it to her.

"I aided the Legion," he repeated, "and I don't agree with what they do to people and how they do it. If they were to take control of the Mojave…" He stopped in his tracks, forcing Veronica to follow in suit. His face turned from sadness to blankness. "What I did not only helped the Legion but hurt the NCR. It cost people their lives."

"Oh come on, you don't know that," Veronica argued, still not connecting the dots. "It was one shipment!"

"A critical one," he elaborated. "Remember what Mr. New Vegas said on the radio last night about Camp Forlorn Hope missing a shipment that cost them their location?"

That did it. Veronica finally had the missing pieces to the puzzle and once she put it together, her mouth hung open slightly. "You mean-"

"Yes," he answered. "Because of what I did, Camp Forlorn Hope was lost to the Legion." He shrugged. "And what did I get out of it? Vulpes was pleased. Gave me a machete to signify a good trade, but I sold that the day I met you. I traded the lives of soldiers fighting for a cause I almost believe in for my own… is that right?"

"Zack, I… I don't know." Her distress was evident as she tried to figure out what to say and how she could say it. "How do you know what you did even made a difference? Who is the say that the NCR weren't already doomed to lose that location?"

"I know you're trying to make me feel better, but it's not working," he answered solemnly.

"But there's no way you could have known that shipment-" she tried to protest, but he cut her off.

"That doesn't make it right. I don't like killing if I don't have to. I mean, raiders are one thing. Guys like Cook-Cook need to be put down. And-" He did another double take before whispering. "If I could kill Legion soldiers with the guarantee that I wouldn't get caught, maybe I'd consider it. But the NCR has a lot of decent soldiers and a lot of them aren't blind patriots who've been brainwashed for a better cause. Many of them are just trying to get by. Now they're dead because of me."

He looked down at his feet, sighing. "But honestly, it was either help the Legion or die. I mean, what was I gonna do? I'm just a courier. I may be a good shot and the V.A.T.S. helps, but I can't fight the Legion and I'm not stupid enough to try like Boone. I don't know if you've seen a Legion hit squad before, but they're made up of some of the Legion's strongest soldiers. If I'm asleep when they find me, it's all over. Even if I were awake, it wouldn't matter. I could probably take out one. Maybe two, but then I'd killed, and that's if I'm lucky. Even if I were to survive a hit squad, they'd send an even stronger one after me. I wouldn't be able to outrun them, and even if I sought out the NCR for help, that's not safe either. The Legion has eyes and ears everywhere. It wouldn't be long until they'd catch me, and I'm not some NCR big-shot who can afford bodyguards."

He felt that he had convinced Veronica, but she was still trying to argue with him to get him to see that he wasn't so bad like he said he was.

"Okay, but you don't owe the NCR anything. Why should you feel responsible if you were just trying to live?"

"Because I am, plain and simple," he reminded her. "If the Legion had you by the balls and told you to infiltrate a Brotherhood shipment, would you?"

"Of course I wouldn't! But that's different! I'm one of them," she shot back. "You… You though… Okay, let me put it this way," she began to rephrase, "If you knew that the Legion would have successfully captured Forlorn Hope, would you have still taken Vulpes's offer?"

There was something he hadn't thought of and Veronica's question caught him off guard. Would he? What disturbed him was that despite valuing human life like he claimed, he couldn't answer that question, even if his death would have saved others.

"I… I don't know… maybe?" Just giving that vague answer made him feel depressed, as he felt like he was selling out his values. "What does that say about me? That I'm a selfish coward? Maybe Boone is right about me." The more he thought, the uglier everything became. Was that why he had a "hero complex" as he had put it? Was he just trying to make up for his cowardice or was he trying to prove to the world that he wasn't afraid when he knew he could manipulate the odds?

"Miles…" Veronica whispered so that no spies that possibly surrounded them could hear his real name. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid. The Legion… they scare me too. You'd have to be insane to not fear them."

"Yes, but there's a difference between fear and- Look, V, if you don't want to travel with me anymore-"

"You know," Veronica interrupted, "if I had known about this five days ago, maybe I would have left at this point, but now…" Gently, she slid her right hand into his left as she faced him. "I feel like this is more than just a business arrangement, you know. Like you and I are friends, and even if you have some issues, that doesn't scare me." She looked a bit concerned that she had just admitted that. Maybe she thought that that would freak him out. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Five days ago, it might have," he admitted.

"And I'm not saying that what you did was right. Maybe it was wrong. But if you can accept me and my secrets, I can accept yours. Is that fair?"

He didn't even know if he could accept himself, but for some reason, the young woman he was traveling with could. That crazy, yet compassionate scribe of a faction that he disliked, though she had a personality that he couldn't help but find endearing... If there was ever an exception to the rule of Brotherhood members, she was it. "Yes… I guess it is."

"Good, then let's not talk about it anymore. We can't change the past…" A goofy smile sprang onto her face. "Unless we have a Tardis or a Delorian."

"What?" He was suddenly puzzled.

"Old movies. Don't worry about it." She punched him lightly in the shoulder to emphasize her playfulness. At one point, that would have made the Courier nervous, but not any longer. "How much further until we reach New Vegas?" Geographically, they were really close, but giant walls still separated them from the city of sin.

"Well…" He looked at his Pip-Boy. "The east gate of Freeside isn't that far. Once we get there, we should be able to get into the Strip." Just thinking about the casinos gave him a good feeling throughout his body and he almost forgot about the Legion. It had been awhile since he had been to a good casino. The cards were calling his name. "I need to get a drink. And get laid. Yeah, that sounds right."

"Then we better keep moving," Veronica prodded, giving his hand a tug. "Those dice aren't going to roll themselves."

"Right, let's move." They started walking again and he felt ten times better than he had just a few minutes ago. Just having Veronica around made him feel better in a way that nobody else could. With him, she seemed to know just what to say and how to say it. Maybe he didn't deserve to feel that good after doing some of the things that he did, but regardless, she made him feel that way.

New Vegas is calling me now. No, it's calling us. He had no idea how literal that truth was.