East and West

Synopsis: (Continuation of Power and Beauty) As negotiations with the Legion go south, Sage and her team have to confront difficult questions about themselves. (T)


Arizona, September 2283.

Juno felt like a prop in her own story. Captured, bought, and inherited at the whims of others. And it was... fine. She managed. The human mind adapts to its circumstances, and Juno was no exception. But some periods were more bearable than others.

Juno had been in the Legion for two years when she lost her best friend. It was a horrible time. She feared for Gabriel, but she almost feared for Joshua more. She feared the hardness in his eyes when he ordered Cassius's execution. She feared his silence, and the set of his jaw. Most of all, she feared the loss of his conscience — his growing obedience to Caesar. He was done rationalizing. He became the monster he had always feared himself to be.

He was still good to her. Caesar was, too, in a way. Juno was NCR-educated, so he automatically liked her more than pretty much any of his legionaries. (Juno wondered why he'd burnt all those books if he liked education so much.) He told her his thoughts and feelings, and he usually let her get away with mouthing off to him.

Caesar never followed through on his plans to have her bear children. He didn't want her, but he didn't want anyone else to have her either. He didn't exactly leave her alone, but he wasn't the pervert she'd have thought just by looking at him. It would have been far worse with another master. She got used to life by his side, passed between two households like the child of divorced parents. She began to love her life again.

The holding pattern continued. The war raged ever onward. The Legion grew.

Then, one day, it overextended itself. The words "Boulder City" still sent a chill down her spine, even years later.

Joshua had been angry when Gabriel was lost. But she was never afraid of him, only for him. But Caesar... everyone was afraid of Caesar the day the news from the Dam reached Flagstaff.

Caesar locked her in his room so she couldn't warn Joshua when he arrived. But she heard the sounds of the Praetorian guard seizing him through the walls. The entire army was marched out to the lip of the Grand Canyon, where... where it happened.

He didn't beg, or scream, or even struggle very much. It was dead silent, so surreal that Juno half-convinced herself her brain was playing a prank on her. She felt his agony, though. All the way down.

She knew there was something she could have said to make it all better, to remind Caesar of thirty years of friendship, something brave and eloquent and everything she wasn't. But even when she played it back in her head, tried to go about it differently, her words fell on deaf ears. She had lost her father, then Gabriel, then Joshua and even Rex. And then she was alone, with Caesar.

But really, just alone. Caesar sent the new legate — Lanius — on campaigns against the tribes, and parked himself at the western front. Juno stayed in Flagstaff. It was there she heard about her master's death.

The strange thing was, she grieved him. He was all she'd had left. He had made her his own, and was forever rooted in her mind. He was an evil, evil man, but charming. Whip smart. Very persuasive. Dead and gone.

Her time with Lanius was short. He spent almost all that time away on campaign, so she was of no use to him. She mostly hung out with his dozen other slaves. Within the year, Lanius was dead as well. But she didn't come out of it without... scars.

Lucius was as unprepared for the throne as he was to inherit thirteen slaves. He was happily married to his wife, so the human transplants were largely ignored by their master. He expected them to be producing children, but but with much bigger things on his mind, he put his wife in charge of household affairs. After thousands of casuaties in war, the Legion had a surplus of women. They were rarely bothered.

The neglect gave Juno time to sneak into the throneroom at night and kiss Marcus the guard. Juno was infatuated with him. His strong hands. The smell of training sweat. The feel of his beard. His rough voice turned soft at the edges when he spoke to her. The sneaking around may have been unnecessary — Lucius didn't exactly protect his slaves from the men — but their feelings had to be hidden. Lust was safe. Love, for another man's slave, was dangerous.

Marcus took Lucius's place as captain of the guard. The two had joined the Praetorians at vaguely the same time, so they were close as brothers. Marcus finally gathered the courage to ask to buy Juno. Instead, Lucius granted her as a gift to his new third-in-command. They were married within the week.

She had never thought she'd be allowed those months of newlywed bliss that she'd dreamt of as a girl. Marcus was the answer to her prayers. He was benignly sexist, he worked long hours, and he snored like a beast, but he loved her. And she loved him back.

Marcus was happy to work under Lucius again, but captain of the guard was a difficult duty. There was a problem. Since the war, the Legion has fallen into complete instability. Out of respect for their leader, the Praetorian Guard had never challenged Lucius for his position, but Marcus was new — new and vulnerable. Anyone could become the new leader. But first, he had to fight his predecessor hand-to-hand, to the death.

Felix was younger. He trained harder. He ate more. He exercised less restraint. He was on Marcus's radar, but he hadn't proven himself ambitious, until the day he issued the challenge.

From the spectator seating, Juno could only hear male grunting and the sick thunk of fist on flesh. The fight escalated and the crowd drowned it out.

Juno had fisted her hands into her hair and curled her face into her knees. She was so sick of losing people.

She'd heard Lucius call the fighting to a halt. He'd announced that the fight was decided, but the Legion need not lose another warrior. So Marcus would live to fight another day.

But Felix was the victor, and he demanded tribute. He demanded Juno.

Lucius was caught between his love for his friend and the need to be impartial. Before he could make a ruling, Vulpes Inculta swept in. Whether he meant to smooth over the administration's show of weakness, correct what he saw as a potential injustice, or simply be insubordinate, he acquiesced to Marcus's demand. Lucius, whose control over his legate was tentative at best, failed to respond, and Juno was taken away.

Juno was not an object. Juno was not a dog. She raged. She disobeyed. She spat and bit and took punishment. But nothing could bring her back to her husband.

And now, here she was. Five months, a slave once again. The least favorite of Felix's three women. Never given a pass to leave the house. Marcus under Felix's thumb. Her beloved, less than a mile away, but she couldn't see him.

She couldn't tell him.


"You heard me right. Vulpes Inculta is negotiating for the Legion."

Joshua and Boone both grunted stoically over the communicator. They were two peas in a pod, those ones. Two mutually unfriendly peas.

"Be careful, Sage," came Joshua's voice. "He isn't educated like you or me, but he's ruthless and intelligent. No doubt, he's been studying your weaknesses. Ambassador Crocker has trained for these situations. He needs your support."

Boone reluctantly agreed. "You're the muscle this time around. Legion knows it can't handle your army. Let the NCR negotiate."

Sage half-laughed. "Boone, the only reason I have this power is through negotiation. Vulpes may be a sleazebag, but surely he knows when he's pinned in a corner." She took an audible swig of water to show just how unconcerned she was. "I've dealt with guys like him before. The first step is not to be intimidated."

"The second is not to be overconfident," Joshua countered sagely.

Sage rolled her eyes. She feared no man. She'd stood up to Elijah, Lanius, Ulysses, even Joshua himself. Her confidence against powerful men was so inborn, so automatic, that it must have been a conscious decision, made sometime before Victor pulled her out of the grave. She couldn't think of why this would be — why a package courier would need such an ironclad defense mechanism — but even her earliest memory had her kneeling, bound, entirely at the mercy of an uncaring man. And she told herself that the memory was behind the strange twitch of uneasiness in her chest whenever the drunken soldiers on the Strip got a little too rowdy, or her disproportionate anger when Boone or Arcade raised his voice.

She managed to blame a lot of her problems on Benny, actually.

"Back into the fray," she muttered into the radio.

"Watch your six, Six."

"The Lord be with you."


Lake Pleasant allowed the use of their town hall for a meeting room. The townsfolk were especially accommodating toward the legionaries, but Sage noticed they only sent men to deal with them.

The room was far from ornate, but they'd dragged in several upholstered dining chairs around a grand mahogany table with only a few bullet holes. Everyone was on-edge, and no one seemed to want to sit down first.

Lucius's cupbearer, a waifish girl not much older than Molly, passed him a bottle of wine. Sage was surprised and pleased to hear him mutter his thanks. He wasn't very entitled, for a legionary. She wished Vulpes would get himself hammered, but all of them (sans Cass) wanted to keep their inhibitions high for today.

"So," Sage addressed the man across the table. "You want my help."

"I was under the impression that you called this meeting, Courier," said Vulpes, the corners of his lips upturned.

"Of course. To help you. I know you're not exactly sitting pretty right now."

His voice was like a mirthless laugh. "Oh, is that what you think? You'll be glad to hear that we have no such insecurity. Nor are we intimidated by your firepower. The Legion has reserves. It will not fall." He leaned over the table, palms flat. His goggles held secrets. Sage hadn't expected this response, and her tongue somehow refused to counter him.

Crocker, standing, leaned with dignity against the back of a chair. "With all due respect, Mr. Inculta, the Legion wouldn't have entertained a diplomatic meeting unless they had a firm upper hand... or they were truly desperate. If you had the advantage you seem to think you do, we'd be seeing it now."

Vulpes threw up his chin with a smirk. "All the more respect to you... ambassador. But the Legion does not solicit the help of profligates. All my lord expects from this meeting is... justice." It was just the sort of smooth non-answer Sage would have employed, but Crocker had called Vulpes's bluff. The Legion was starting at a disadvantage.

Vulpes was not a powerful man, not the way Sage thought of them. He was like her — swift, cunning, and proud. She understood so little about her own mind that she found herself unprepared for its mirror image standing before her. She didn't have a defense against him. She had made the fatal mistake of underestimating her opponent, and her ally.

She tried again. "Look. I'm sick of ordering my Securitrons after your boys. Their blood is on my hands, and yours for sending them. I'm ending it, and you're gonna help me." She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Veronica cringe from the corner of her eye. What? I'm trying to be direct.

"How sweet," Vulpes crooned. "I'll remember that. It must be difficult for you to kill our legionaries. It isn't a role suited to women at all, is it?"

His patronizing tone set her teeth on edge. "Mowing people down with a robot army isn't suited to any decent person! I'm done with it!"

"What she means to say, I believe," interrupted Crocker, "is that this senseless war has gone on long enough. Though she's perfectly able and willing to continue the fighting if provoked, your men's deaths are benefitting no one."

Sage realized her mistake. Vulpes's casual chauvinism was targeted; he'd meant to make her lose her temper. She shouldn't have shown weakness in the first place, even as a show of good faith. Not against Vulpes. She changed tactics, composing herself. "The Legion's quest for revenge is killing it, and quickly. We offer mercy. Aid, technology. Things your pride has held you back from."

Vulpes pursed his lips, irritated. "You offer your societies' weakness. The Legion wants no part of it," he hissed. "The attacks will cease if you meet our demands. That is my bargain."

Sage met Crocker's eyes, and he smiled. Finally, they were on the same wavelength.

"If you insist," she said sadly.

"Now you're seeing reason," Vulpes smirked.

"Reality is so unfortunate. And here we thought we were getting somewhere." Crocker shook his head. "We'll take our people and go, then."

Vulpes's smirk tensed, and Lucius turned to him angrily. The delegations from the NCR and New Vegas left to give them some time alone.


It took Boone awhile to realize his smoking was bothering Graham, at which point he started smoking faster.

He was on edge being so close to the Legion. It wasn't that he didn't trust the others, but he didn't like the girls being around those beasts without him watching their backs. Especially Sage. Stupid, stupid Sage.

He took an especially deep drag on the cigarette to settle his nerves, then fought a cough. He noticed Graham side-eyeing him critically.

"Is something troubling you?" Graham asked mildly. Boone couldn't have been more off-put if he'd insulted his mother.

He grit his teeth. "Don't like not being there."

"Your friends can fend for themselves. The NCR rangers are there for support too."

Boone threw the rest of his cigarette onto the floor, just to bother him. "I know better than to think things are safe. Especially when it comes to the Legion." Foggy, amorphous memories crept in; he refused to give them the clarity to bother him further.

Graham studied him. Even though he was covered in burn scars, and by no means young, he sat ramrod straight and observed the world like a battlefield. "A harsh way to live. What's made you so afraid?"

His question was genuine, and Boone hated being the target of the man's empathy. "I know what the Legion is, and I know Sage thinks she can do anything. Don't need anything more." He saw Graham's eyes drift instinctively to his wedding ring, and he curled that hand into a fist. "Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"The Legion sent the White Legs to kill my family," he reminded him. He was making assumptions, trying to bridge the gap between them. (Unless Sage had told him the truth, but Boone couldn't believe she would betray him like that.)

"Save it for someone who cares," he spat. Graham's eyebrows rose. "Don't want a pity party."

"Forgive me." Silence fell tensely. As if drawing parallels between the two of them would make Boone like him more. Doubt settled on him once again, and horrible possibilities rose and fell one by one.

The negotiations hadn't gone south. She'd have called.

It wasn't an ambush. The Legion wouldn't put their king in the middle of it, and there was nowhere to hide the extra troops.

The NCR hadn't betrayed them.

She hadn't been shot dead like a game of Poker gone bad.

They weren't all collared and on their way to Flagstaff.

He muttered a curse under his breath. Graham did have a point; Boone wouldn't have been so paranoid two years ago. It was coming up on the anniversary of his wife's death, and everything felt rawer and more dangerous in light of it. Hearing Sage's overconfidence worried him, and he was reminded of all the times she'd have died if he hadn't been there to back her up. He knew he would never hurt like he did the night Carla died, but the prospect of feeling that bleeding desperation again made his blood run cold, even if he did manage to save his team. That Graham was here was next-to-no comfort.

He glanced at the older man, who looked up curiously from his book. His mildness and religiosity covered up sheer brute force and competence, which covered up something worse. That near-paternal steadiness, though superficial, would be an attractive lure for a woman with no identity nor caution. Sage trusted him. Boone didn't.

"Yes?" Graham asked after a moment, and Boone realized he'd been staring.

"You told the kid to stay away from me," he blurted.

Graham blinked, marked his page, and closed the book. "Did she tell you that?" It wasn't a denial.

"Didn't take a lotta guesswork," Boone grumbled.

"Yes, I did tell her to avoid you. Hope is the most important thing in the world to me. Still, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Sage's word not good enough for you?"

"No. It isn't that."

"Then what is it?"

"It's only that you wear that beret so... proudly."

Boone immediately got up and stormed away.

He had nowhere to go, so he climbed into the cockpit. He stewed in the blood rush, enraged that Joshua Graham, of all people, was judging him for his past. How dare he.

After a few minutes of sizzling anger, punctuated by the turning of pages in the background, the radio crackled on.

"Hey, guys. How's it going back there?" Sage greeted.

"Great," Boone spat. "What's happening?"

"NCR and Vegas are pulling out of the negotiations until Lucius makes Vulpes swallow his pride... and his fist too, probably."

"Good," said Graham from behind Boone's shoulder. "Lucius is entirely devoted to Caesar, but he would rather forsake revenge than allow Caesar's legacy to destroy itself."

"You know Lucius?" Sage asked.

"Yes. We were good friends, until he threw me off a cliff."

"Eesh. Right."

Boone grit his teeth. "How much longer is this gonna take?"

"Why? Not getting along?" Sage guessed.

"Not exactly," Graham admitted. "But don't worry about that. We're handling it like adults." Boone released a scoff.

Sage huffed, expelling pent-up energy. "Look. If you can work with me, then you can work with each other. If that's a problem, then either of you can find another cause to fight for."

Both of them paused. She was bluffing, of course, but the bluff was significant. Sage was dynamic, but rarely aggressive. If she was threatening to excommunicate either of them, then either she was far more stressed out than she let on, or Joshua was more important to her than Boone had thought, and vice-versa.

"You're misunderstanding. We didn't fight. It was an unpleasant conversation," Graham insisted.

"Sure, that's all," Boone scoffed.

"It isn't my fault you're lashing out like an animal—"

Sage sputtered, her temper flaring, "This — this is completely insane. I trust you both with my life — with my city — and you can't even handle each other for an hour?"

Boone pushed back. "You know what he's done? He's a monster — you can't trust him—"

"This man is unstable, Sage. He is dangerous," Graham countered.

"You don't know a thing about me," Boone growled.

"You think word hasn't reached me of your unit's sins?"

"Guys—" Sage interrupted, and was ignored.

Boone climbed out of his seat to face Graham on level footing. "You really think you can talk to me about sin just because you carry that book around?"

"SHUT UP," Sage roared.

There was a pause as Arcade, from the other end of the radio, asked her what all the yelling was about. She snapped vaguely about a 'situation,' and Boone was about to use the silence to get another hit in (figuratively, but he was all too willing to get physical), when Sage's voice rose again from the radio, quieter this time.

"Stop fighting about your pasts. I've done worse things than either of you."

They were silenced by the sheer absurdity of this claim. She gave no evidence or rationale, but her voice had been so stark, and the words so unlike her, that neither could come up with a response. Boone couldn't think of anything she'd done that struck him as even morally ambiguous, except killing Mr. House. He was almost offended that she expected his baggage but refused to even allude to the existence of her own. But he was more confused than anything.

Silence hung heavy over the radio. Finally, Graham attempted to prod her. "'As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.' Do you understand?"

Awkward silence.

"Sage?"

"She turned off her radio, numbskull."


I shouldn't have said that. That was a stupid thing to say.

Sage felt the spidery cracks of her mind shifting and clinking against their metal hull. Any more of this and the shards would shatter — the whole frontal lobe, reduced to a fine dust, leaving her a gaping, drooling lobotomite. She reflected on her future as the first feral smoothskin with professional detachment, noting with disappointment how it would affect the negotiations.

It wasn't real, of course. She knew it, and it kept her heartrate in check. Her brain was just excitable, and it used the energy saved on memory to come up with wild sights and sounds for her to freak out about. Reality, though, was just as weird as anything she could hallucinate, so it was often hard to distinguish.

Even so, what she'd faced on the Lonesome Road was no mirage. She had the scars and the riot gear to prove it. And she had the knowledge, completely divorced from memory, of what she had done there in 2277.

The urge to confess was strong, had been for nearly a year now. But what good would it do? None of them would believe her. They knew full well about the splintered jumble in her brain, and they didn't believe half of the things she told them. She remembered her return from the Big Empty, traumatized but victorious, and their sympathetic smiles when they realized she was going to stick with her story about the talking brains. The way they talked to her, the same way they all spoke to Lily on her off days, made her sick, and she had never mustered the courage to talk to one of them about the Divide.

Joshua might believe her. The first she had heard of the Divide came from him (not counting a throwaway comment from Johnson Nash, which she only remembered in sick, stark hindsight). Besides that, he knew less than her companions about the extent of her brain damage, only that it had wiped her memory. And he would listen, she knew. The problem was that telling him about the Divide meant telling him about Ulysses.

The shards behind her forehead swarmed like a whirlpool, around and around and around. Joshua destroys Vulpes's home. Vulpes destroys Ulysses's home. Ulysses destroys Joshua's home. Sage destroys Ulysses's home. Ulysses destroys Sage's home. Tries to, anyway. Cogs in a massive gear, or players in the world's largest and longest chess game. Back and forth, until all of humanity is lost to the bloodlust of a few.

"Courier?"

A voice drifted from miles away. Sage snapped back into her own body, the pieces of her mind clicking into place once more.

"Yeah, yeah, what? What is it?" she mumbled, seizing control once again.

"You're on," Veronica said hesitantly. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She schooled her features into a crafty smile. "Ah, men. You know how it is."

Her friend smiled back, looking relieved. "Sounds like the moment for you to show them who's boss." Veronica took her hand, and Sage squeezed. Time to be a leader.


Sage perched on the razor's edge of her chair. Lucius had ordered Vulpes to directly ask Sage to return to the negotiations. She had been kind and only made him beg a little bit.

It was no secret that Sage and Crocker had gotten exactly what they'd wanted by threatening to leave. But it was the truth: they wanted this to go well, but they didn't need it. The Legion did.

They had to end the cycle.

"Courier Six and I discussed our primary term beforehand — besides, of course, the cease-fire," Crocker described diplomatically.

"And what would that be?" Vulpes was keeping up his air of superiority, but it was in spite of the negotiations rather than because of them.

"A total, unequivocal prisoner exchange," Sage smirked. "That means the repatriation of all Legion prisoners of war held in the NCR, and the release of any slave formerly a citizen of the factions we represent."

Vulpes bared his teeth. "That's absurd."

"We have it on good authority," explained Crocker, "that since the Second Battle for Hoover Dam, your women outnumber your men five-to-one. This would be a step towards reconciling that disparity — and it would all be left to the prisoner's choice, of course. All parties will send officials to ensure that every missing person is accounted for. Quite the undertaking, but worth it for the amount of good it would do."

"The rest of our negotiations are contingent upon this term," added Sage. "We're not going to have a cease-fire with a nation that's keeping our people as prisoners. We know you have no respect for life, but we do."

Lucius spoke up, leaning heavily on his arm. "The Legion respects life. We simply believe that sacrifices must sometimes be made. This is one of those times. We accept your term."

"Excellent," Sage smiled. She had done what she came to do. Her thumb brushed absently over the collar of her riot gear.

"I have a term for you," Vulpes added. "Your Legion coin. Taken as trinkets from dead soldiers. It doesn't belong to you. We will see it returned." Ego bruised, he was firing back.

"We cannot violate the property rights of our citizens," said Crocker. "We will need time to compensate our citizens properly."

"I can change the exchange rate in my casinos," Sage added brightly. "I'll be able to make regular shipments back to you. It'll affect profit margins, but I think we'll survive." She chanced a roguish wink at Vulpes, receiving a flat stare in response.

"What can you offer in return?" Crocker asked.

Vulpes frowned. "I think the prisoner exchange is payment enough. Most of the burden will be on the Legion's shoulders."

Sage glanced at Crocker to see whether she should argue, but he shook his head.

Big victories, small losses. Sage felt confident. And when she felt confident, she took risks. "We need to open up trade," Sage blurted. Crocker blinked; this wasn't something they'd discussed.

Vulpes dismissed her coolly. "There is nothing you produce that the Legion desires."

"How about medicine? Your people are dying, Lucius." She turned to address the emperor, appealing to his sense of duty. "Humanity spent thousands of years perfecting the art of preserving life. What we know of their progress is flawed and incomplete, but we make the most of it. You don't need all these preventable deaths."

Vulpes spoke before Lucius got the chance. "Humanity was weak. The world as it used to be was purged by the gods to make way for the Legion." His mouth curled around the words, fearless and dogmatic.

"That's mythology," said Sage. "It's not how it actually happened."

"Not literally," Vulpes admitted, maybe a little too quickly. Sage noticed a few of the Praetorians in the background blink in surprise at the admission. "But a myth isn't true because it's factual. One way or another, the humanity that came before fell victim to its own carelessness."

"To war," Sage corrected him. "To retribution. To disregard for life." She probably should have asked Mr. House more about it, while he was still alive. "Overconsumption started it, but in the end, the world is the way it is because somebody somewhere pushed a big red button. Not because of stimpaks."

Lucius stared at his folded hands, looking grim. The man was exhausted, Sage noted. His hair was certainly grayer than the last time she'd seen him (not counting their little Flagstaff infiltration; she'd had other things on her mind then). She pitied him for a moment, but on the bright side, he seemed ready to get this over with. "What would we trade you in return?" he asked. He sounded dangerously close to conceding.

"The NCR is dealing with a bit of a food shortage at the moment," said Crocker. "With our attempts to take the Dam rebuffed, we could use any extra produce you've grown." He didn't seem to remember that Sage was the one who'd rebuffed them.

"That would be feasible," Lucius conceded, "until the Legion's population begins to recover."

"You'll have plenty of time to adjust before then."

Lucius suppressed a sigh. "The details will have to be decided later, but the Legion agrees to legalize trade with the parties you represent."

Sage finally sat back in her chair. "Can't promise that all the factions confederated with me will do the same, but the Strip is with you."

"As is the NCR," said Crocker. "Once the president signs this treaty."

"And where is the coward?" Vulpes asked, his cool voice and goggles barely concealing his rage. "Lucius and the Courier managed to be here."

"If you'll remember, your Frumentarii recently made an assassination attempt on President Kimball."

Vulpes looked genuinely incredulous, even under the helmet, and he gestured wordlessly to Sage. He had a point — he and Lucius had been present during the assault on the Fort, when Boone had killed Caesar.

Sage just shrugged.


"Well, howdy, folks. This is your forever friend, Mr. New Vegas, here with a very special broadcast, just for you. The aftereffects of the peace treaty between the NCR, the Legion, and the New Vegas Strip are still in their early stages, but here in the Mojave, we're already seeing changes..."

The sun was about to rise from beyond the Colorado, but they would be at their destination before the day's heat crept in.

"...The town of Nipton is being reconfigured into a Legion embassy. Visitors to the town are advised to be polite, stay sober, and carry a weapon..."

They'd dropped Raul off at home a few hours ago. Sage didn't know when she'd see him again. Cass was moving back west soon, and there was no telling how long the others would stay. Sage had been ready to end the war, but she hadn't been ready for the war to be over.

"...The Tops, the Ultra-Luxe, and Gomorrah are advertising double the chips for Legion money. In addition, the credit check for entry to the Strip has been temporarily lowered to just 500 caps. Tops owner Benny had this to say:"

"Gonna be a tight squeeze in there, but the Chairmen can dig it. You better believe the Tops will treat you right, baby..."

Boone scoffed. "I know you let him live, but did you have to give him his job back?"

Sage didn't look behind her or break pace. "He's a snake, but he's a competent snake. And he's terrified of me."

"...And finally, the first wave of Legion prisoners has arrived at Bitter Springs Refugee Camp. The camp is experiencing shortages of supplies, and asking for donations. To the refugees, on behalf of all of New Vegas... welcome home." The anchorbot's warm voice wasn't directed at Sage, but she felt a surge of victory. Despite setbacks, the peace talks had concluded with everyone better off. They were headed with Joshua to Bitter Springs right now, to drop off supplies and find Juno.

She hadn't asked questions when Boone had asked to tag along. If he wanted to involve her, he would. He was taking responsibility for his own healing process, and Sage really tried (with limited success) not to be a busybody about it.

When they reached the outskirts of Bitter Springs, Boone stopped suddenly. Joshua and Sage turned back to him curiously.

"I've gotta go," he said, clipped and tense.

"Okay," she said, without hesitation. "Catch up with us at the camp."

He nodded sharply, brow furrowed over his shades. Then he took off quickly around a burnt-red rock wall.

"Don't mind him," Sage told Joshua. "He's just... well, I don't know what he's doing, but he'll be back."

"Is he alright?"

Sage shot him a matter-of-fact smirk. "Is he ever?" She forged ahead into the valley, not taking notice when Joshua peeled away from her side and disappeared.


The graveyard was borne of tragedy. Mounds of dirt hasty and unmarked, dug deep to fit multiple bodies in a single hole. Abandoned and unkempt — one of the mounds had been clawed at by an animal, and another had lost its cross. Joshua knew this graveyard well, despite visiting it for the first time. One just like it sat on the outskirts of Ogden, Utah.

Boone stood by a grave, seemingly selected at random. He stared down at it without moving. Joshua couldn't read any expression on his face.

The sniper tensed in surprise when he heard footsteps approaching, but didn't turn around. He broke eye contact with the grave and looked vaguely towards the dirt at his feet. "Thought you said I'd meet you there," he muttered.

"I misjudged you," said Joshua.

Boone spun around, frowning. Joshua was not the person he'd expected. "You need to go," he ordered.

Joshua glanced at the tomb behind him. "I'm sorry to interrupt." There was no one nearby, so he took off the riot gear helmet Sage had lent him. He turned it over in his hands — Sage said she'd found it in Zion Valley, with "FORGIVE ME MAMA" already written across the forehead. He continued, "I hope you can tell the difference between respect for what happened here and torturing yourself. Don't cause yourself unnecessary pain."

"There's no 'unnecessary' for guys like me and you," Boone hissed. "We get what's coming to us. And if you hadn't noticed, the people around us tend to get... hurt." The final word fell awkwardly.

"You won't trust me, you're uncomfortable making peace with the Legion, and you struggle to live with yourself." It was a bold set of statements, but Boone didn't stop him, so he made his point. "You believe in justice, but you've lost sight of mercy."

"Can't have both."

Joshua felt a gentle smile pull painfully at the corners of his mouth. "My God finds a way."

Boone didn't seem to have a response to that. He looked up to the grey-yellow sunlight filtering in from the east. The graveyard was in shadow, but it wouldn't be for much longer. Finally, Boone spoke.

"I'm sorry for... the way I was. About Hope. If I had a kid, I wouldn't let her around someone like me either." His voice was gruff, but Joshua caught the notes of pain lacing through.

"That was my mistake. I told Sage I trusted her judgment, but let my suspicion get the best of me. I didn't know what to make of the fact that you killed Caesar." Edward. His friend. His tyrant. His murderer.

"Yeah," Boone said. He didn't seem to have much more input on the subject. "Guess the truce wouldn't've happened if he'd lived." He sighed through his nose, strain setting his jaw. "It's over."

"...Yes."

"And now," Boone continued suddenly, as if compelled, "we all get to go home. We collect our pensions, and live with ourselves. Well, I tried that, and so did you. It didn't work out." His voice was harsh, but not aggressive. This had been building up for a long time.

Joshua paused. "Are you going back West?"

Boone turned toward New Vegas, looking distressed. "I should. But I can't leave her."

"I'm sure Sage will support whatever decision you make."

"Not... her." He winced; he'd said too much.

"Raul told me you were married."

"...I was."

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter now," he lied. "But I still... She loved the city. I don't want to go."

Joshua nodded slowly. "It's safe now, thanks in no small part to you. That's the best gift you could have given her."

"Hm," Boone said. "Guess I made something right." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Time for you to do the same." A dismissal, but also an encouragement. Boone paused, nodded sharply, and left him standing there.

For the moment, Joshua didn't follow, despite the draw of seeing Juno again. Buying her had been his mistake, yes, but far from the worst. His greatest mistake... that was something he'd never found a way to correct.

But then there was Sage. She'd tracked down Benny across the Mojave just weeks after a traumatic brain injury. She'd found Joshua in his hiding place, hundreds of miles away and entirely by accident. She'd even found a way to recover Juno.

But if he asked her this, it would be unlike anything she'd done before.


The refugee camp was nothing short of chaotic. Former slaves, almost exclusively women, sat around dozens of tents, fires, and bedrolls. NCR soldiers moved about with clipboards, taking down refugees' personal information. A few Legion soldiers were there too, resting after their long escort mission. Followers of the Apocalypse darted in between the small, huddled groups, passing out water and administering first aid. Securitrons wobbled about, reminding visitors to remain orderly, but they only added to the tumult. There was little room to move through the crowd.

They found Sage among a small group of visitors hoping for a glimpse of a long-lost loved one within the masses. She was staring at the raucous camp with a satisfied smile on her face. She didn't mention their disappearance.

"Here it is," she said. "You see Juno?"

"Not yet." Joshua had been scanning, but he saw no glimpse of his friend's honey-blonde hair and bright green eyes. He felt for these people, and for the ones assigned to take care of them. This was only the first wave of refugees to come in from across the river.

He moved into the wake of a passing Securitron. The crowd parted easily for the metal beast, and he was able to make his way through uninhibited. Women looked up at him in awe of his desert ranger armor, but didn't attempt conversation. They were exhausted and downtrodden. The least of these.

It took him three glances to recognize the filthy woman perched on a log nearby. He wasn't even sure what had tipped him off. It was Juno... but not the Juno that Joshua had known.

She no longer held herself with the pride of the most valuable slave in the Legion. Her dress was covered in dust kicked up by the caravan that had brought her here. Her hair was ratted and limp. Her skin was sunburnt. A black blindfold covered her eyes. Her round belly swelled out over her lap.

Conversation halted in the circle as the women slowly realized they were being watched. Juno saw nothing, but noticed the change in atmosphere with discomfort. Joshua tried approaching her.

"Mikayla," he murmured, gentle so as not to startle her.

She looked alarmed anyway. "Wha-" she whispered hoarsely.

"Shh. It's me. I'm going to get you out of here."

Disturbed at hearing a dead man's voice, she answered a bit shakily. "Give me a minute to say goodbye."

Joshua stood away from the group as they exchanged hugs and well-wishes. He observed her; her mannerisms were quiet, but she seemed more alive now. When she turned back to Joshua, she was smiling.

He looped her arm through his own, and led her arduously through the crowd. The refugees mostly moved out of their way, but several were asleep in their seats, or dazed from the long journey. Joshua guided Juno away from obstacles and back to where Sage and Boone were helping the camp move supplies.

"Oh!" Sage shouted, and Joshua felt Juno jump in surprise. "You found her?"

"We should go someplace private," he said.

"In this place?" Boone asked critically.

"Maybe there's somewhere near the medical tent you could be alone," Sage reasoned. Joshua nodded.

Safely near the tent, Juno turned on him. "I don't understand. All those stories — the Burned Man — they were really you?"

"Not all of them. But I'm here now. I'm so sorry that I wasn't before."

She didn't answer, but threw her arms blindly at him in the approximation of a hug. He felt her heartbreak through the embrace as much as he felt his own burning skin. Without breaking apart, he asked the obvious question.

"Juno, what did they do to you?"

She pulled out of the hug but didn't let go of his arms. "Lanius..." she began, her voice breaking. "He strikes all of his slaves blind. He threw my eyes on Caesar's funeral pyre..." She shivered. "I never really even met him. I guess it was... symbolic or something. I don't know. I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Then don't think about it," he said gently. He didn't intend to ask about her pregnancy yet, but she continued.

"Um, this—" she touched her belly. "The baby is my husband's. Marcus's." Her voice, still mournful, was tender. Joshua got the sense that it wasn't a typical Legion marriage.

"Did you love him?"

"Yeah." She sniffed. "But I couldn't stay with him. I hope I see him again, but... I don't want my baby to be born into slavery. I didn't know if there was anyone to come home to. But the risk was worth it." She rubbed the baby bump absentmindedly.

"You made the right decision, Mikayla."

She smiled self-consciously. "You can call me Juno."


The Tops rumbled with just as much disorder as Bitter Springs had, but its energy was the polar opposite. To say business was booming was an understatement. Business had detonated, with the force of a very profitable mushroom cloud.

These days, it was Sage's responsibility to be present in her city. The struggles, the successes — all the fallout from the negotiations fell on her shoulders. To her surprise, the reception was mostly positive. Maybe just being present was an improvement over Mr. House. She hoped so, anyway.

Even the Families took the business surge in stride. Sage was receiving a far smaller cut of profits due to the increased exchange rate, so the casinos weren't seeing too much of a loss. The whole thing was actually working out, and who knew: She might never change the credit check back.

She scaled the grand staircase up to Aces, passing Benny and his entourage on their way down. He shot her a wink, and she suppressed a laugh as she entered the theater.

There were more tables than the last time she'd been in here, and though no one was performing at the moment, they were all filled up. A seat had been saved for her, though.

"Enjoying the festivities?" Sage asked, sitting down.

"It isn't my idea of fun," Joshua mused.

Juno chuckled, her hand resting on Rex's head. He had taken to guide dog duties surprisingly well with no training, but he wasn't exactly an average dog in the first place.

"We have something to ask you," Joshua began. "But it's not a request that we take lightly." He trailed off, unsure.

"It's kind of a lot to ask," Juno added, scratching Rex's ears.

"That's what Joshua said about finding you, but I managed it well enough," Sage said assuredly. "Coming off of that high, you could ask me for anything and I'd probably say yes."

There was a pause. Finally, the silence was punctuated by Joshua's weary sigh. It was rare that he seemed his age, but it was unmistakeable now. He looked straight at Sage. "Have you ever read The Divine Comedy?"

Well, that was unexpected. "Uh..." Sage hesitated. "Can't say that I have. I don't think Daniel gave me that one."

"No, no. It isn't scripture. It's an epic poem from another denomination, far away and in a different time. But you reminded me of it, when you said you'd done worse things than I ever did."

Sage felt a blush tinge her cheeks. She hadn't meant for that to come up again. "Uh. Yeah, I guess I remember saying something like that."

His voice dropped. "You're welcome to talk to me about it. I'm here for you, Sage. But that isn't my point."

A frenetic giggle escaped her throat as she attempted to mask her relief. "Oh yeah? What is it, then?"

"In the Inferno, there is no act more heinous than treachery. A great breach of trust is the worst sin a person can commit." He stopped for a moment, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"Is something wrong?" Sage prodded, eyebrows knit.

Juno took over for him, placing a hand on his to ground herself. "We need you to find someone. Someone who's been missing for sixteen years."

Finally, Sage relaxed. She had no idea what the deal was behind Joshua's weirdness, but a cold case sounded... exciting.

"What are the details?"

"He's tall," Joshua cut back in. He sounded like he'd run through this description in his head multiple times. "Early thirties. Red hair. He's a skilled combatant and may be hostile when you meet him. He won't be alone."

"You seem to know a lot for not having seen him for so long," Sage remarked. He had to have been a kid when he got lost. And then she realized — Joshua had told her about this person before. "Your apprentice?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"You should probably know he's brainwashed," Juno said. She turned to Joshua. "Were you going to tell her that?"

"Yeah, that might have been good to know!" said Sage emphatically. Someone at another table turned around to see what the yelling was about. "You brainwashed a kid?" she asked, lower.

"Yes," Joshua confirmed, voice hollow. "And if he still lives, he's in the service of a stranger. He could be in danger, with no defense against the person who holds his contract."

Sage sighed into her fist. Of all the directions this conversation could have gone, this wasn't what she'd expected. "Alright, I'm listening. What's this guy's name?"

Juno answered for him. "Gabriel. His name is Gabriel."


AN: Josh's Bible verse is Psalm 103:12

2266-
January - Distance, No More
October - Power and Beauty
2267-2276 -
2277-
January - Sage destroys the Divide
February - First Battle of Hoover Dam
July - The Mummy Returns
August 17 - Aniss leaves Vault 101
The Prodigal Son
September - To Set the Record Straight
November - The Burned Man Walks
2278-
April - James dies (Purity War begins)
June - Guide Her Through the Night
Bitter Springs
September - Project Purity activates
November - Human Capital
2279 -
Adams Air Force Base (Purity War ends)
2280-
May - Dogmeat's Vacation
August - Boones are married
2281-
New Canaan is destroyed
October 11 - Sage is shot in the head
October 19 - Sage wakes up
2282-
ED-E, My Bud
2283-
January - Second Battle of Hoover Dam
February - To Have and To Hold
April - Awake, O Sleeper
May - Worst-Case Scenario
July - Mercury's Messenger
August - Safe Haven
September - Power and Beauty (pt. 2)/East and West begins
October - East and West ends