"Frumentarii, Courier—whatever you are now… [beyond the Hoover Dam] lies a symbol of a two-headed bear, an idea great enough to challenge Caesar himself. Might kill him, taking it, whether he won or lost. The Bull needs to fight, needs the challenge, without it…it falters, dies in the dust" – Ulysses, Lonesome Road

—

Delilah, better known as Lilah, found herself feeling exposed by the amounts of attention being given to her as she climbed the steps of Fortification Hill. She had come back from Hoover Dam victorious, and the word of the Legion's triumph had already reached the legionaries who had stayed behind to protect their leader. The legionaries applauded her as she walked by, greeting her with the familiar words of ave and true to Caesar. It was vastly different from the quiet repose she had previously associated with the camp.

The path up the hill was steep, but it was nothing compared to seemingly endless maze of stairs she had found at Hoover Dam. She recalled the dizzying confusion of the battle, how she had moved through each Power Plant clutching her gun tightly and forcing herself to concentrate to her objective and not on the combat that surrounded her. She had been there to kill the NCR's General Oliver, to leave the NCR with a open wound in command that would ensure Legion victory and the conquest of the Dam.

When she reached his compound, he had been standing on the second floor balcony looking down on her as if he had been waiting for her arrival. Not that it had mattered. She had no intention of trying to talk him down. He was knee-deep in the delusion that the NCR still had the possibility of holding onto the Hoover Dam, and she had determined to prove him wrong with the .44 Magnum in her hand.

She had no choice but to follow him deeper into the compound when he fled with his guards. As she crossed the room, she fired two rounds into an unsuspecting NCR soldier unlucky enough have been stationed on the ground floor wearing nothing more than the standard uniform. He died easily, too shocked by the impact of the bullet piercing his chest to fire an accurate shot at her. The NCR trained their soldiers well, but many, like the man whose body laid before her, lacked experience with actual combat. Lilah, on the other hand, was all instinct. She fought as if her fight or flight response had been triggered so many times that pulling the trigger of her gun was a compulsion.

She had found Oliver inside his office. Even without the protection of his guards, he had been ready to fight her. He had stood before her with his pistol drawn, even though he knew that the Magnum in her hand was stronger and faster than his own pistol. He had been the perfect image of old world military propaganda, a captain prepared to sink with his ship. In the end, it only took two bullets to bring him to the ground and a third shot in the head to kill him. Others might have let him bleed to death, but his death had never been personal. This was war, and she only hoped that he died with the realization that the blood of the NCR soldiers who died that day stained both Legion armor and his own hands.

After reaching Caesar's tent, Lilah was dislodged from her thoughts as one of the Praetorian guards greeted her with a nod. She didn't know his name, but she had seen him guarding the outside of the tent in the past. Taking in a breath, she pushed aside the tent flaps and made her way to where Caesar sat on his throne.

The tent, always guarded on the inside by soldiers, was empty. Relaxing back into his throne, Caesar addressed her, "I hear Oliver fought until the end."

Lilah nodded and replied, "I suppose the remaining NCR troops will laud him as a hero, as a man who clung to his pride and beliefs even in the face of his own inevitable defeat. He should have taken a hint from his guards and wore metal armor—would have made him a more difficult kill."

His reaction was a mixture of pleasure and amusement. "You have served us well, and your part in the victory at Hoover Dam will not be forgotten. But, as you know, this has only been the first hurdle in driving the NCR and what they stand for from the Mojave."

"What will you have me do next?" she asked.

"We will discuss that in a moment; there are other things we must attend to first, such as your place within the Legion. As you know, I don't allow women as soldiers. Women are considered property; they are healers and procreators. Unfortunately, most women come to us intent on holding onto their old world ways. That will change with time." He watched her face for a reaction, but only her eyes betrayed the worry that crept into her mind.

"Don't worry," he told her. "I have no intentions of holding you to the same standards I hold other women. You have proven yourself where most men would have failed. I am told even the Legate praised your actions at Hoover Dam, which I'm sure you can imagine does not happen very often. When you first stood before me, I admit I was hesitant about capabilities, even after hearing everything that had been reported back to me. But you have proven me wrong in so many ways."

At his pause, she replied with thanks but was still uncertain of where the conversation was heading.

He held eye contact with her as he continued, "You have, until now, been operating as an aide of the Legion but not a member of the Legion. I know you believe in my vision. Our goal now is to extend that vision across the Mojave. We will start with the Strip, tearing down the image of New Vegas decadence your former acquaintance Mr. House fought so hard to preserve. We will make examples of them—the addicts, the gamblers, the prostitutes—and, of course, anyone who dares to stand in our way".

The mention of House's name brought back a memory of the frail old man exposed from his tube. He had been an abomination; a man who thought he could defy the laws of nature with technology. Looking upon his deteriorating body had stirred up a mix of emotions. But, in the end, pity won, and she had given him a painless death by pressing the cool tip of her pistol to his forehead and pulling the trigger.

Caesar continued, "I want you and Vulpes to head to the Strip before I send troops in. Vulpes already has a plan in play with the Omertas there, and I want you to help him with the final arrangements. You will also be checking in on the White Glove Society and making sure they plan to uphold their agreement. Any individual you meet could have NCR sympathies, so I advise you to be careful. Vulpes has been given the task of ensuring you blend in as much as possible while conducting these tasks."

She preferred to work alone but didn't dare question Caesar's orders. She paused, thinking for a moment, before asking, "And what is my role within the Legion now?"

"You will serve under Vulpes as one of my Frumentarii. I suggest you keep in mind that he will be your direct superior from now on. He will punish you for any of your failures from here on out. You will begin travel tomorrow."

At his dismissal, she left the tent, only just realizing how tired she was when she began heading to the nearby tents. She might have once feared sleeping here, but she knew she was now too valuable to Caesar and the Legion for any of the lower ranks to risk assaulting her. Even Otho, who never failed to aim a sexist comment in her direction, had looked at her with a hint of respect when she entered the Fort.

By the time she reached the tents, she was too tired to remove her leather armor. She had worn it so often over the past few months that it felt like a second skin. The mat she chose to lay down upon was comfortable enough. She only wished there wasn't a tent between her and the night sky.