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Titus left her under the watchful eye of a recruit. She wrapped her arms around her body, trying for a bit of modesty, but only succeeding in pushing her 'attributes' up a little more, and ensuring more attention from the recruit than was really required of him.

Her ruined uniform lay upon the ground beside her, she looked down and reached for it, the recruit beside her came on guard, making sure she didn't do anything stupid. She picked up the fatigue jacket and put it on.

The fasteners had been ripped from the khaki material, but there was still enough that remained of the jacket to give her a little bit of modesty, she'd have to hold the jacket closed herself, but it was a small price to pay for her own self-respect and modesty. She tugged the jacket on over her shoulders and slipped the arms through the sleeves.

They watched as Titus sent the young legionary into the reception area wearing the vest he had taken from her. She was amazed that the young man was willing to die in such a way. She realised how true the rumours were about the fanaticism of the Legion soldiers. They were crazy-sons-of-bitches.

She heard gunfire and then finally the explosion from the C4 rattled the windows. Smoke and dust billowed from the open doors, one or two rangers staggered out to be cut down by Titus or his men. Aurora lowered her head in shame, this was all her fault, the rangers were volunteers like her, and they had been willing to die for the NCR. But she hadn't died, she'd just accepted her capture and that she was going to die, not in battle, but at the whim of some soldier of the Legion.

What she hadn't expected was to become a slave.

She watched as Titus' men moved in and brought out chief Hanlon to Titus. The Leader of the Rangers was covered in dust and blood trickled from a head wound. He was stunned, but quickly regaining his senses as he was held captive by Legion soldiers.

A Recruit came up to Aurora and her guard.

"Slave, you are to go and prepare Hanlon's quarters for your Master." He ordered her. When she was slow to respond, her guard shoved her in the direction of the Resort's building.
She moved past Chief Hanlon who looked at her, he saw the regret in her eyes.

"Stand tall, soldier, be strong." He said to her, before he was struck by one of the men who held him.

Aurora moved through the destroyed reception area, scorch mark, broken tiling and splintered wood littered the floor, sharing space with unidentifiable body parts and torsos still in their armour. The recruit pushed her up the stairs to Hanlon's room.

"Clean up in here and prepare it for the Centurion!" he barked at her. She nodded.

"Yes sir."

She began gathering clothes discarded in the rush to get to the fight, she found an empty sack and put the clothes in it, leaving the sack of clothing by the door. She stripped the bed of Hanlon's sheets and moved to the Cleaners Room where she gathered fresh linens for her master's bed. She made the bed in the precise military style that she had been taught, Hospital corners, and tight sheets, if she had been back at her old base, she would have passed inspection quite easily for it.

She turned her attention to the bathroom. There was a box of Abraxo cleaner in there already. She went to the sack of clothes and found one of the more 'raggy' pieces of clothing. She scrubbed the bath, sink and toilet down until they were cleaner than they had been before the war. She collected several buckets of water for his bath should he wish one.

She looked up from cleaning the sink and saw in the mirror that she still had blood upon her face. She ran water through the faucet and scrubbed at her face, there was little she could do about the blood on her uniform, but at least she no longer had the Ranger's blood upon her skin, just her soul.

She finished cleaning and went down to the kitchen where she collected several bottles of purified water and some fresh fruit.
She returned to the former NCR Chief Ranger's quarters and arranged the food and water on the table. She looked around, in her mind; the place was ready for its new occupant. She sighed and moved to the Recruit who was guarding her.

"Please inform my master, that his quarters are ready when he requires them." She asked the recruit, who simply grunted, as if he would take orders from a slave, let alone a woman.

He leaned in and shut the door on her, leaving her alone in the room that she had prepared for Titus.

Aurora looked around; she moved to the far wall in the living area and sat down on the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest and reached into her bra. She pulled out the two photos and looked at them. The innocence of a sixteen year old smiled back at her, heavy mallets in her hand as she struck the Four Winds, four large bass drums with the heads of a Deathclaw, LakeLurk, Giant Ant, and a Fire Gecko set on their stands.

She began to doze, settled up against the wall, her head on her arm, and her hand still holding the pictures of happier times.

The battle for Camp Golf was over. The Legion had won. Caesar would be pleased.

Before talking to the Ranger Chief, held tight by two prime legionaries, Titus was ordering different groups of his men to search the perimeter of the camp and root out any survivors and gather all the corpses in the middle of the camp. He'd deal with those soon.

Titus grabbed Chief Hanlon by the cuff of the shirt and dragged him into his old office, bringing two veterans with him. "You are Hanlon, yes?" Hanlon remained silent. "You are going to tell me the locations of every ranger deployed in the Mojave." Still silent.

After all that effort, the few men he'd lost, and having to act as a filthy degenerate just to get here, the centurion was losing what little patience he had in the first place. Without warning, he threw a punch at the ranger's face. It connected with a sharp crack as his fist fractured Hanlon's jaw. The chief recoiled and his hands went to his mouth, but he was ready for Titus' next hit. Just before the second punch landed, Hanlon stepped aside, grabbed Titus' arm, and used his own force to slam him into the wall behind him.

The centurion stood for a second, dumbstruck by the foolish bravery of this ranger in the face of his enemy. But he had just been assaulted by a captive and he would not stand for that. "Tie him to the desk," he said calmly to the two veterans in the room with him. Fully prepared for any torture Titus had prepared for extract information from the chief, the veterans took out lengths of rope, and struggled to tie Hanlon down to the top of the desk. "You should have just answered the question, and I'd have let you free." scorned Titus.

He walked to the door to leave and turned back to the veterans.
"Flay him alive. Strip his flesh and salt the wounds. Let me know when he's ready to talk."
And with that he left.

For the next few minutes, he was instructing the leading Decanus on what to do, how to secure the camp, getting the legionaries on patrol and into the tents for the night if necessary. They knew the drill after taking Forlorn Hope.

Titus was looking forward to settling into this camp. It was a perfect location. It was close to Vegas, so Caesar would be than happy to send more recruits his way, and it was on the water supply for the NCR farmers, so they could destroy a food source for their enemy, and perhaps least importantly, it was a fucking luxury residence compared to where the centurion had spent most of his days.

Time to retire for the night, he thought. Dragging his tired body up the stairs to the main bedroom a Decanus had told him had been prepared for him, he opened the door and began to throw off the tight NCR gear.