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Radscorpions: A Narrative Fiction

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From New Vegas to Novac, Novac to Cottonwood Cove, Eve walks, her shadow an Eyebot she repaired. The desert fights against with hordes of Radscorpions and ants but it’ll take an army of Deathclaws to stop her. The Mojave sun dips below the horizon as she reaches the Legion camp, sky a picturesque mix of pink, orange, and purple. In another life, she’d pull out a camera and snap a picture of the sunset. For now, she’s content with committing the beauty to memory. Too dark for Lucullus to ferry her to Fortification Hill, too early for sleep, so Courier Six sits by the fire. Flames illuminate the surrounding area, providing enough light for weapon maintenance. The men ignore the stranger until there’s a pistol in her hand. As if she’d shoot …show more content…

Bedtime. She stifles a yawn as she drags her heavy limbs to an empty tent. A sleeping bag is laid out, but she pushes it to the side and unrolls her own. Legionaires don’t have the best hygiene. ED-E hovers outside the tent, senses on alert. “If anyone gets too close, let me know,” she instructs. It beeps in confirmation. Clothes make for an uncomfortable pillow. There’s not enough cushion to block out the hard ground underneath her head. Her pack is the only alternative but sleeping on firearms doesn’t seem like a good idea. Next time she goes exploring, she’s bringing an actual pillow stuffed with polyester and not pre-war currency. Sleep is elusive, only gracing her with shuteye after hours of tossing and turning. When the rays of sunlight trickle into her tent, she rolls onto her stomach and closes her eyes with the hopes of dozing off. The rest of the camp is awake and bustling, dashing her plan to rest her eyes once more. With an angry huff, she rouses herself, gathers her clothes and sleeping bag and stuffs them into her …show more content…

When Eve approaches him, he leans forward but does not extend his hand in greeting. “If it isn’t the courier who took a bullet to the brain and lived to tell the tale. You do know why I’ve summoned you here, yes?” “I assume it has something to do with House’s bunker, my lord.” The words leave a bitter taste in her mouth, but Caesar is pleased by both her knowledge and servility. “Correct. If what Benny says is true, House has stored something important behind the impenetrable doors. So I want you to take this”—he throws the Platinum Chip to her with a deep scowl—”and destroy whatever’s in the bunker.” “Yes, my lord.” It’s sickening, talking to Caesar like the god he thinks he is. If she hadn’t thrown up her breakfast earlier, she would have now. But the NCR is relying on her to infiltrate the Legion so it doesn’t matter that she’d rather drink nuclear waste than aid slavers. Eve takes a near-fatal risk, deciding to upgrade House’s securitrons but Caesar is oblivious to her betrayal. He’s even generous—his word, not hers—enough to allow her to choose Benny’s fate. “Crucify him, shoot him, strangle him, I don’t care. But before you do, there’s another matter you must take care of: Mr. House. I’m afraid his time—and luck—has run

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