.

October 23rd, 2281, 10:03 a.m.

"AIGHHHH! KILL IT! KILL IT!"

Smashing glass, rushing plasma, a pulse of exhilaration as the prey beneath him burst into flame. Running now – flying away – the shadows embracing him as one of their own.

"Is it gone?"

"Don't you watch the old horror vids? There is no way we killed it. It's here; trust me."

" [*$$...]$ ... [#-!-#] !"

"Quiet, 8. Shhhhh. Come out little teddy bear; I'm only going to rip your stuffing out."

"Guess we can go back to our rooms and lock the doors now, right?"

"There is no movement I can detect – not even a mouse. I believe we misplaced our test subje-"

Falling, impact, fist crashing through glass. Screams, plasma fire, feral eyes and grinning teeth reflecting the final sparks of his dying victim. Two remain. Two remain. Two remain. A weight presses down upon him.

Denn reached up and seized the mechanical hand resting on his shoulder while simultaneously unsheathing his machete. A blaring claxon ripped the last of the vision from his mind. The Securitron before him made no movement – did not respond to the potential attack in any way beyond its booming siren.

Denn shook his head, letting his weapon slide back into its sheath. "How long was I out?"

"Unknown," the Securitron replied. The gruff soldier plastered on its display screen flickered slightly. "You came within sight of the camp and did not progress any further. Yes Man indicated he left you five minutes before, and directed this unit to intercept. Potential timeframe of pseudo-consciousness: one to five minutes. Gannon's recommendation stands that you allow your physical body rest and put your automatic systems on-"

"I know his recommendation," the Courier said hurriedly. "I lack the time to implement it. Access primary systems; override code Alpha-Yankee-Kilo-09152." Denn stepped forward as the Securtrion's display screen went blank and opened a small panel near the robot's faceplate. Pulling out a long cable, the Courier attached it to his Pip-Boy and began to flick through the Securitron's systems. "You will stay within three yards of my person and serve as an uplink to the eyebot network. Confirm."

A large checkmark appeared on the Securitron's display screen before blinking away. The Courier stepped past the Securitron and walked towards the Legion camp, the machine following closely after.

A pair of Securitrons stood at the entrance of the fort. Denn cast his gaze across the encampment's outer wall and the additional Securitrons spaced every thirty yards along it. Satisfied with the display, he turned his attention inward and began to process the incredible amounts of information ED-E and the other eyebots around the Mojave were sending him. Walking stiffly, the Courier automatically made his way through the carnage of the Legion's main camp.

Red Lucy was about to engage the cazador swarm, the NCR were uniformly pulling back from their outposts, and the Fiends had taken McCarran. Luckily, the raider group seemed content to rest on their laurels. The Great Khans would keep them drugged up enough to prevent them from fortifying the NCR's main base, hopefully. As he finished catching up on the status of the Mojave, the Courier realized he had reached Caesar's inner encampment.

The raised fortification had been saved from the razing the rest of the camp had suffered. As Denn walked through the entrance, he was greeted by a power-armored gauntlet snapping out before him.

"Johnson?" the Remnant soldier asked, his faceplate directly facing the Courier.

"Lanius ambushed us and killed him," Denn answered, his right hand reaching up and pulling off the sunglasses Yes Man had given him earlier, revealing his battered face. "Stabbed his sword through the gap between the neck and chest."

The Remnant remained still for a moment, before lowering his arm. "He was a self-righteous, bleeding-hearted bastard, but he was a good man," the soldier said quietly. "He died with his armor on; I think he would have appreciated that."

"What about you?" the Courier asked, slipping the glasses into his duster. "Looking to join him?"

"Dying was all I had left before you talked me into this campaign. Nothing better to do, so I guess I'll just start waiting for that again."

"Don't be too sure. I may have some work for you still, if you're interested."

"War's over; what use do you have for an old man who's only ever done one thing with his life?"

"Teach others to do that one thing."

"Hah! I told Judah you wouldn't be content with just the Securitrons. Looking to make your own army, huh?"

"Oh yes. One that can match the best of the NCR, man-to-man."

"Might want to set your sights a bit higher. Those cotton-shit troopers wouldn't last a day without those Rangers backing them up, and even they are invested a little too heavily in the mythos of war instead of the reality of it."

"I can't think of anybody better to give soldiers a lesson or two in reality. Are you interested?"

"You plan to keep the NCR out of the Mojave?"

"They'll have to pull it from my cold dead hands if they want it."

"Anything I can do to stuff it to those bastards is a blessing. I'll help train your army, just tell me when and where."

"Still working out the logistics of both, but I'll keep you in the know."

"Don't wait too long, I'm not exactly too far off from passing whether I want to or not."

The Courier nodded and stepped past the soldier, making his way to a large tent ED-E had informed him the rest of the Remnants and his companions were waiting. Pushing open the tent's flap, he was greeted by a one-handed bear hug.

"Oliver shot you. Why did he shoot you?" Veronica asked, her words heavily slurred.

"Stimpack wore off huh?" Denn asked, supporting Veronica as she leaned onto him. "Henry give you something for the pain?"

"Yes boss. Good stuff, funny colors. Cass is ok, sleeping still," Veronica rambled, leaning back and squinting her eyes at the Courier's face. "You got the shit kicked out of you," she stated bluntly.

"You should see the other guy," Denn said, his eyes tired. Stepping into the tent, the Courier helped Veronica take a seat on one of the makeshift cots within.

"I told her she should get some rest," Doctor Henry stated, shaking his head as he finished cleaning Cass' wound. "But after she saw that spectacle on your Securitron over there, she wouldn't stop talking."

"I couldn't not talk. If I didn't talk, I'd sleep, and if I slept, he'd get shot again," Veronica argued, turning and pointing angrily at the Courier. "You let anybody else shoot you, and I'm not letting you leave the Lucky 38 for at least a month."

"Alright, alright," Denn stated, holding his hands up defensively. "I promise not to let anybody else shoot me unless they really want to."

"Damn right," Veronica said, her eyelids drooping as her resistance to the doctor's pain meds slowly waned with the Courier's half-acquiescence. Denn helped the woman lie down, and slipped a threadbare blanket over her.

"You did let him shoot you, though," a voice stated from behind the Courier.

"Yes," Denn answered, squeezing the sleeping raven-haired woman's forearm and rising to face the leader of the Remnants. Judah Kreger stared at him, his eyes hard.

"I get wanting to keep the NCR military out of the Mojave," Judah said. The Officer's voice was low and controlled, yet the Courier could sense the anger boiling just beneath the surface. "But why keep us in the dark? I lost another soldier under my command today, and it turns out he didn't even know that in the end he was fighting against the NCR? Johnson only supported this mission because we were fighting for them and not the Legion."

"He died under my command, Judah," Denn stated, meeting the Remnant leader's eyes. "His life is on my hands, not yours. I told him my intentions before we went into the camp; I have the audio recording if you want it. He knew I intended to keep the NCR out of the Mojave and he knew why. He still fought for me against the Legate. The NCR is failing under its current leadership. If I let them take the Mojave, they would drag it down with them. I won't let that happen."

Judah frowned at the Courier, gauging the man's words against what had transpired. "You goaded Oliver into shooting you," the Remnant declared. "You didn't just let it happen, you intended for him to attack you."

"My entire approach to the assault was meant to make Oliver look as bad as possible," Denn admitted. "From the public statements offering aid beforehand, to the handling of his soldiers during the battle, I was trying to aggravate him into making a mistake. Getting him to personally attack me was the best possible scenario, but I had prepared for many eventualities. I knew if I pushed him hard enough he'd lash out at me. I'm lucky he chose to do so on his own and not with his army."

"You're lucky, or they're lucky?"

"Both. The NCR would not have been able to withstand my Securitrons, but slaughtering their soldiers would have made peace unstable at best and impossible at worst."

"So your best-case scenario was getting shot? Doesn't sound like much of a best-case scenario to me."

Denn shrugged. "Anyone I walk away from, I call a win. Not the first time I've been shot and its likely not to be my last; at least this time it was intentional and not because of a misstep or a mistake."

Judah shook his head, reaching up his hand to rub his eyes wearily. "Hell of a risk, no matter how you try to justify it. Oliver wasn't wrong, you know. There's not much of a line of succession in New Vegas, should you be killed. This whole plan of yours hinges on your survival, and much like the Legion, if you fall, New Vegas falls."

"You're right, but unlike Caesar, I don't think I'm a god."

The roar of a Vertibird's dual rotors suddenly roared from outside, blowing the tent flap inward. Denn glanced behind him with surprise. Judah smiled slightly and moved past the Courier and out of the tent.

"How the hell is that vehicle invisible to my Eyebots?" Denn asked loudly, following after Kreger and shielding his eyes from the sandstorm the airship had whipped up.

"Eyebots are based on Enclave tech," Judah answered, with a hint of pride in his voice. "Even if you've modified them to hell and back, there's still kinks in the system. Daisy knows how to take advantage of those kinks; it's how she kept from being court-martialed back in our military days."

"I need you, Judah," the Courier said, his voice only just carrying over the roar of the Vertibird. "The Mojave needs you."

"I know," the Remnant officer replied, turning his gaze from the airship to the man standing beside him. "But I'm still not convinced." Judah began lowering his voice as the Vertibird's rotors slowly died down. "You show me you're looking to do good for the Mojave, and this isn't some totalitarian power-play, and I'll help you. Until then, I won't be a part of it. I'll not stop any of the others from lending their aid; they'll probably be more than willing. Henry sees you as his next project, Moreno would jump at another chance to stick it to the NCR, and if you keep letting Daisy fly, she'd likely do anything you'd ask."

"If she has the want, I'll supply her the energy she needs. There's a group just as interested in flying as she is, maybe even more so."

"I highly doubt that," a gravely voice stated. Denn turned to the Vertibird and saw an elderly woman move down the walkway, a pilot's helmet held loosely in one hand. "Damn it feels good to be in the air again."

"The Courier is wondering how you're hiding from his Eyebots, Daisy," Judah said loudly, smiling widely as Denn walked forward and shook the sun-touched woman's hand solidly.

"Is he now? Well, if he's a good boy, maybe I'll tell him when he's older," Daisy quipped, patting the Courier on the shoulder and stepping forward to give her commanding officer a stiff salute, followed by a tight embrace.

"It's good to see you flying again," Judah said happily, brushing the hair out of the old woman's eyes.

"You best be careful, Judah" Daisy warned, her eyes twinkling happily. "We aren't exactly spring chickens anymore, but if you keep talking like that, I'm bound to break a hip or two." The old woman laughed gaily as her commanding officer's eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment while the Courier coughed awkwardly. The elderly pilot stepped away, veritably skipping across the ground to the tent Henry and his patients were occupying.

Judah's gaze followed her, shaking his head while his mouth turned upwards in a crooked smile. He glanced back to the Courier and his eyes hardened slightly. "You be good to her," he stated.

"I won't ask her to fly combat missions," Denn said, crossing his arms behind him and inspecting the silent airship before him. "The Boomers want nothing more than to fly, and if she'll teach them, they'll join the rest of the Mojave."

"When were you playing on asking her?"

"I already did; she said yes. She also said it would probably be best if you didn't know about it till after the battle, and since she knows you better than I do; I agreed."

"I've lost one of my family already, Courier. I know it was his choice, but you'll understand if I withhold my support for the time being."

"I understand," Denn said quietly. Silence settled between the two men as Moreno loudly began carrying equipment onto the landed airship. The Courier finally spoke, "I would appreciate it if you'd take my wounded to the Lucky 38 after you pick up Johnson."

"Glad to," Judah replied. "That Brotherhood girl packs a hell of a punch; you're lucky she's on your side."

"I'm lucky they all are," Denn stated. The Courier nodded to the Remnant officer and moved deeper into Caesar's camp, his Securitron following closely behind him. As Judah turned away, a slight shimmer appeared behind the Courier and began to trail after him.

.

.

Camp McCarran, 6 miles South of New Vegas

"Kur-o-nel Hsu! My, my, my… you certainly don't look happy to see me."

"Motor-Runner… you're supposed to be dead."

The Fiend's fist slammed against the NCR Colonel's chin, sending the kneeling man falling to the ground.

"That's just what I wanted you to think you yellow waste of dirt! Knew that after you sic'd your Courier dog on my other commanders that I'd be next. Set up that asshole Little Buster to take my helmet and claim the kill. Since then, I've just been waiting for my time, and wow, would you look at that? My time is now."

The fiend leader drove his foot into Hsu's gut and then kicked the man onto his back. Straddling the NCR commander, he began to slam his fists into the officer's face. Hsu made no sound as the raider assaulted him.

"I was told you'd be a tough son-of a bitch, Hsu. Luckily, I brought a chainsaw. Duke! Get some straps in here and wrap 'em around his arms and legs."

"My Fiend," a demure voice all but whispered from the far side of the room. Motor-Runner froze, his head turning slowly towards the source of the voice.

The speaker was short, with blonde hair just long enough to cover her dark brown eyes. What little clothing she wore was impossibly tight and followed her every curve intimately, leaving only the important features to the viewer's imagination. She sauntered forward, her gaze locked with the leader of the Fiends as the man rose, completely forgetting the officer below him.

Reaching up, the woman wrapped her hands in Motor-Runner's wild hair and pulled him down to meet his lips with her own. Roughly, she bit his lower lip and tugged it towards her. Stepping onto Colonel Hsu's chest, the petite woman rose higher and violently drew the Fiend leader's head to the side, bringing her lips to the man's ear and gnawing on his lobe. "Let me have him," the succubus whispered quietly, grazing her teeth against the neck of the man helpless to stop her.

"W-who?" Motor-Runner asked blearily, finding it difficult to think clearly over the heated stimuli.

"The Colonel," the woman cooed, running her hand down the Fiend's chest and scratching against his taught stomach.

"Wh-" Motor-Runner began before groaning as the woman sunk her teeth into his neck.

"He was responsible for Bitter Springs," the woman answered the unasked question while letting her hand on the man's stomach wander further South. "My family… Our family needs to be avenged. Let me have him."

The man groaned and then yelped, the woman's southern embrace tightening and her teeth once again sinking into his neck. "Alright! Alright!" Motor-Runner relented, pushing the woman away and holding her at arms length. The leader of the Fiends glared around at the other men in the room. The raiders milled about awkwardly, all of them doing their best to keep the evidence of their reactions towards the beautiful woman faced away from their leader. "He's yours."

"Thank you, my Fiend," the woman whispered. Reaching up, she kissed him almost reverently for a few moments before suddenly pushing him away and whistling shrilly. Two Great Khans entered the room and moved forward to pick up the Colonel.

"Save me the leftovers, love. My dogs are hungry!" Motor-Runner said gaily, running his hands through his hair and pacing back and forth as the woman left the room. "You have fun now, Hsu! Though, I bet you would've preferred my company than my misses'. She does have a way with knives." Motor-Runner laughed manically as the NCR officer was pulled out of the room and the other Fiends joined in his revelry.

Colonel Hsu spit blood out of his mouth as the two Great Khan's carried him across the McCarran lobby. "I wasn't responsible for Bitter Springs," he stated quietly.

The woman stopped and turned back towards the NCR officer. Leaning down, she stared the man in the eyes and ran a hand along his chin. "I know," she whispered, releasing his face and backhanding him viciously. "Take him to the cells," the woman ordered, turning away from the Khans and walking deeper into the captured NCR base.

The dazed NCR Colonel shook his head, and as he passed the entrance to the modified airport, saw another pair of Great Khans carrying in a large crate. A series of cheers greeted their arrival, and a sizeable group of Fiends crowded the newly arrived drug-runners looking to get their fix.

Colonel Hsu's eyes narrowed, and he glanced up at the Great Khans carrying him. The men's faces were almost unreadable, but Hsu could sense tension hidden in the raider's expressions. Motor-Runner's words repeated through the Colonel's mind as he let himself be dragged to the NCR's fortified detention block.

.

.

Bitter Springs, 19 miles North-East of Camp Golf

"They're too fast!" an NCR soldier screamed as he emptied his service rifle at the approaching swarm of orange and black insects. One of the massive creatures dove towards him and latched onto his back, driving its six-inch stinger into his side. The NCR soldier screamed, the fire of the cazador's poison crashing through his veins. He tried to lash out against the gigantic insect, but his muscles refused to respond as he fell to the ground. Gunshots and screams reverberated around him, but the soldier was lost to the world as the searing heat bombarded his nervous system until he lost consciousness.

Silence began to spread over the NCR camp, interrupted only occasionally by bright orange wings beating the air angrily. The cazadors began to lay their eggs.

A rifle shot erupted in the distance and one of the creatures ruptured into an explosion of green vital-fluid and black chitin. As one, the swarm of cazadors turned towards their new attacker.

A single woman stood in the distance, her duster blowing back behind her in the slight breeze. Setting her rifle on the ground, she un-slung a shotgun from over her shoulder and chambered a round into it loudly. Whistling shrilly, Red Lucy dared the cazadors to attack her.

The insects obliged, and the sound of their wings roared through the air as thirty of the giant creatures leaped into the sky. The swarm closed impossibly fast on Red Lucy – death and pain promised by the horrific drone of their flight. The woman remained tall and defiant, her only action to brace the shotgun against her shoulder and take aim at the closest of the creatures.

As the swarm flew within thirty yards of their target, twin streams of flame erupted from the earth below them. Two Westside hunters outfitted with flamethrowers stepped forward from their hiding places behind rock formations, fanning their weapons in front of them in a crisscrossing arc.

The cazador swarm hit the wall of fire at full speed. Carried by their momentum, the creatures quickly passed through the man-made firestorm, but the burning fuel tenaciously clung to their exoskeletons and wings, forcing them to the ground.

The creature at the front of the formation had been spared the worst of the firewall, and charged furiously at Red Lucy. The leader of the Thorn's eyes blazed with the reflection of the raging fire before her and an inner satisfaction at the success of her ambush. Calmly, she pressed the trigger of her shotgun back.

The weapon roared and flaming buckshot exploded out of its barrel, enveloping the cazador before it in the modern-day equivalent of Dragon fire. The blazing magnesium pellets embedded themselves into the cazador and covered it in a raging inferno. Stepping to the side, Red Lucy let the flaming monstrosity fly past her and crash into the ground with a resounding thud. Pulling out a long knife, she calmly stalked the writhing insect as it desperately tried to crawl away from her.

In all the other creatures she had encountered, she was able to find fear – the terror all living things shared when their life was almost over. She couldn't see it in the cazador. All she saw was hate, even as her knife pierced its armored skull.

Red Lucy frowned. This reaction wasn't natural, it was taught. Cazadors were the most vicious creatures she had ever come across, attacking without provocation and seemingly without reason. They implanted their victims with eggs, yes, but more often then not the cazador's poison killed the host long before the young could hatch, denying them a viable food supply and causing them to waste away. Every other creature she had encountered existed as a part of the natural order, either as a hunter or as prey.

Cazadors existed only to kill.

"Leader?" a voice asked from behind her.

Red Lucy turned, her frown disappearing as she observed the remaining hunters disposing of the cazador swarm. "Begin salvaging poison glands and brewing additional anti-venom," she ordered. Moving past the man who had addressed her, the leader of the Thorn made her way to the NCR caravan. "Use what supply we have ready on those NCR closest to death." The woman stopped over a scorched creature and turned back to the silent hunter.

"See how long you can keep their eggs alive."