2 Chapter 2

They took her weapons, her supplies, and then subjected her to a taxing march through the Mojave.

She didn't know what became of Boone; she was their only captive. If he had survived, she didn't expect him to chase the Legion for her. So she faced her fate with as much gravity and stoicism as she could muster.

They passed settlements she barely recognized, Camp Searchlight chief among them. They gave the town a wide berth as the Legion Explorers expertly dodged NCR troops and dangerous terrain.

They fed her nothing on their journey. Surprisingly, with the Legion's infamous reputation with women, they didn't touch her either. She didn't see this as a blessing just yet.

When her head hurt and her lips cracked from the heat, they arrived. Cottonwood Cove. It was then she knew she had been brought to be made a slave.

For a small pouch of bottle caps, she was passed over to a man named Canyon Runner, and she watched the worth of her life being haggled over the light chink of rusted metal and a few reverent remarks of Ave, true to Caesar!

But here at Cottonwood Cove, she was apparently not good enough to be called a slave yet. A Capture. A man named Silus graced her with the slave collar, the instrument that would ensure her obedience over the possibility of an exploding decapitation. As Silus happily tightened it around her neck, he explained the significance of the collar's tightness.

"You'll never forget your place," he sneered with unflinching flint eyes. "With every swallow, every turn of the head, you'll feel it cutting into your skin even more."

She said nothing, returning his steely gaze with one of her own.

He smirked. "Silent but deadly, aren't you? Don't worry, we'll break you of that too."

He passed her back over to Canyon Runner who asked her a few questions to asses her value.

"Ever had children?" His voice was monotone, as if these aspects of her life had no real significance outside the quality of Legion livestock.

"No," was her quiet, severe answer.

"Do you know anything about medicine?"

"Quite a bit," she admitted smugly. "But I know more about computers, technology."

He gave her a blank, almost disbelieving look and then continued with his questions, as if her skills with technology were of no importance.

Whatever value he determined that she had, he decided she would remain in the Mojave, to be put to use at the Fort. She had changed into the designated slave rags made of dirty canvas marked with red paint. They had allowed her to keep her precious shawl, and she counted that as a true blessing.

But her journey to the Fort was delayed for some mysterious reason. She stayed at Cottonwood Cove in their penned-in cage. Her head pressed against the chain-link fencing for several days. She often dozed to the sound of insects buzzing with the sun beating mercilessly on her back.

She was vigilant for any possibilities for escape, but the primary concern was pilfering the key that unlocked her slave collar. Without that key, any escape would be futile. And she would not be driven to the edge of suicide by these people. She valued her life more than that.

So in the long, painful moments of the day, she imagined her escape, stealthy and brilliant. She fancied Boone returning for her. She fantasized a long cool draught of water on her lips. Canyon Runner took his time in assessing the other captures, a family called Weatherlys, and individually determined their usefulness. The girl Sammy was almost immediately whisked away. Her mother and the man lingered for a while longer.

Then one day in the middle of her fantasies, the gate banged open, and Canyon Runner approached her.

"It is time. The Cursor Lucullus will take you to the fort."