Fallout: Equestria: A Cut Above

Author: Wirepony

Synopsis:

Wicked Cut, a Tribal pony learning to be civilized, faces exile from his hometown to 'learn how to be a better pony'. Can he survive the Wasteland long enough to gain the knowledge and experience he needs to earn his place? Set in a post-Battle of Sunshine and Rainbows Equestria, this story will follow its protagonist through caves grimly holding the last of their radiation, abandoned pre-war facilities, and even to the clouds above.

Chapter -1: Disclaimer

Fallout is property of Bethesda Softworks, LLC. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is property of Hasbro. No infringement is intended with this unauthorized, not-for-profit fanwork.

Fallout: Equestria belongs to Kkat, and was popularized by Somber, before which we all appear as insignificant motes...

The original concept of ponified fallout can be traced back to a picture by Dan Shive.

The conceit of the naming of Our Tacksworn was shamelessly copied from The Ambassador's Son, an absolutely wonderful and unique take on Equestria. http://www.fimfiction.net/story/4413/The-Ambassador's-Son Go, Read. Enjoy.

I can be reached via PM at this site, or at Wiregeek on the domain tertiary.net

I'm currently looking for editors and pre-readers, as well as a better timeline for the Fo:E and PH universes.

Chapter Zero: Prelude (Leaving Town)

My first 'published' fic in years. Dedicated to Kkat and Somber, who brought the most bizarre crossover universe possible to brilliant, vibrant life. Also dedicated to Dan Shive, who may have started the whole thing off. Please review, Please comment.

I was almost done cutting off a section of the aircar blocking the Subway tunnel when somepony tapped me on the shoulder. The horrific screech of the auto-axe chewing through ancient metal ceased as I jerked away from the car, whirling around with the trigger still held down. A flare of brown light edged with white filled my vision and I felt the ground fall away as I was thrown away from my attacker. Thankfully, the auto-axe, spinning down as I lost my grip on it, flew one way, and I flew the other. I wasn't so thankful about the unyielding floor of the Subway tunnel as I hit it with my head. Blackness unceremoniously swallowed me.

I returned to consciousness sprawled in an untidy heap on a cold, hard surface. My head hurt, but tenative poking didn't seem to reveal anything broken. I made an attempt at opening my eyes, and immediately recognized the black-and-white checkered tiles of my father's 'Council House'. The House used to be a restaurant, and we had plans for it to be again, once we got the ovens and ranges working, and could cook inside.

Opening my eyes didn't seem to cause the brisk throbbing coming from my head to get any worse, so I made a stab at getting up. As I sorted out my legs, verifying that all four were still there, and yep, they were long enough to reach the floor, I heard a heavy, familiar sigh. My head dropped as I finally stood, and it took an effort of will to look up at my father, sitting behind the counter on a stool, a red-and-white paper hat neatly covering his bright yellow curls, idly playing with a bottle of Sparkle-Cola. I stood for a moment, head down, while my memories caught up with me. I looked back up at my father, and the disappointment was clear on his face, which dropped my head back down again in shame.

"Come on, boy, pay attention now. What happened?" My father has always had the perfect voice, I thought. Whether he was telling stories to the entire tribe, or teaching me some tricky secret to extracting a tasty and healthy meal from the wasteland we had lived in, it always had meant strength tempered with kindness. My father cleared his throat, and I snapped from my woolgathering. I straightened up and looked around, finding the silent form of Strongback sitting on one of the customer stools on my side of the counter. I kept my eyes on him as I climbed up onto a stool of my own, next to him and directly across the counter from my father, but his expression was unreadable and wooden.

"I think I screwed up, dad, but I'm not sure how. I was down in the North Subway, cutting apart that aircar we were going to use to reinforce the South Barricade, and somepony, I think it was Strongback, tapped me on the shoulder. It startled me, and I jerked away from the car." I trailed off, still watching Strongback. My father divided his attention between the two of us, and Strongback nodded once, then clopped a hoof on the counter, shooting an expectant look at me.

"Strongback doesn't seem to think that was all, son. What happened then?" My father said, more a statement than a question. Father had always trusted Strongback, who for all of his silence, was still one of the more dependable ponies in our tribe, and now in our settlement. I blinked and rubbed around the sore spot on my head, delaying momentarily.

"Well, he flung me away from him, thankfully the auto-axe shut off when it came out of my toothgrip – it could have cut somepony!" I finally supplied, a flinch of unexpected fear shaking me as I considered what the spinning blade of the auto-axe could have done to unprotected flesh.

"Ahhhhh, I think I have it surrounded now." My father said, his expression somber and focussed. He switched his attention from me to Strongback, who was intent on my father. "So, my boy pulled out of that car and swung that auto-axe like a bludgeon, didn't he? Blades a twirling and a whirling.."

Strongback nodded, then pulled his hoof across his neck in an unmistakable gesture, then pointed angrily at himself.  My father nodded at the tan unicorn in understanding, then sighed, shaking his head. "What will we do with the boy?" Father asked, looking Strongback in the eye.

Strongback sat back on the stool and thought for a few minutes, blinking his big grey eyes distractedly. I sat silently, starting to realize what I had done, what I had almost done. Once, I opened my mouth to say something, but my father silenced me with a glance. Strongback shook himself and opened his own mouth, but nothing emerged by a clotted grunt. Strongback shook his head angrily, then levered himself off his stool. Pointing at me, Strongback stared at my father, who finally nodded. "Wicked" he said, and Strongback nodded once, firmly. He then trotted to the door, turning to wave at my father, and pushed the door open with a thrust of his nose. "Leave?" My father said, and Strongback nodded once, paused, then nodded hugely, a thrust of his head downwards that almost put his face on the floor and almost lifted his front feet off the ground at the other end. "Leave..  big?" my father hazarded, and Strongback nodded again, then trotted back to his stool, climbing on and favoring me with an intense look before he poked me with a hoof.

I turned to face the mute unicorn, and he considered me with an intense, considering look. Then, with many glances at my father, he poked me in the eye, slowly enough that I closed it reflexively. He tapped my eye twice, and then I saw him look at my father from my remaining open eye. "Ah! To see!" My father said, his mood brightening. Strongback nodded again, and removed his hoof from my eye, poking me on the ear twice, then knocking gently on the top of my skull twice, before he put his attention back on my father. "To see, to listen, to learn." My father offered, drawing a firm nod from Strongback. My father sat back on his stool, idly stroking his chin with a hoof as he thought, his eyes unfocussed. "Staring into the future", Big Bear had called it, though he got the same look on his face when the pipeweed harvest came in.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, my father came back to reality with an almost audible snap, focussing on the patient Strongback, not even glancing at the fidgety Me. "Well, I think that works. The only question is, how long?" Strongback shrugged, then clopped twice on the countertop. "Weeks?" my father asked, and Strongback shook his head. "Months?" My father asked, and Strongback hesitated for long seconds, before shaking his head again. My father grunted, and said "Years?", which drew a confident nod from Strongback.

By now, I had figured out what I had done wrong, and I had a pretty good handle on what was going to result from it. Shocked covered my current mental state, but it was such a tiny word to cover the yawning chasm I felt opening up under everything that had, until now, been the bedrock of my life. I was..  going to leave..  for two years?

My father stroked his chin again, deep in thought. Strongback watched him calmly, a tension that I hadn't even realized was in him eased. In fact, I think I had caught it. My father returned from thinking-land again, and favored Strongback with a wry grin. "You're not even mad, are you?" Father asked, smiling. Strongback grinned in return, holding his front hooves a small distance apart. Father laughed, and Strongback grinned like a wolf.  "Think it'll be good for the boy, eh?" Father said. Strongback nodded, and stretched a hoof over to ruffle my mane, which I tolerated with a grumble. Father laughed again, harder, and stretched over the counter to clout Strongback on the shoulder. "You're a damn good hoof, Strongback. I wish I had a dozen of you." Strongback shrugged and grinned sheepishly, and levered himself off the stool again. Tapping his hoof against the floor, Strongback looked from me to my father. "Tomorrow, I think" Father replied, and Strongback nodded, before turning and heading unceremoniously out the door.

As the door swung closed behind him, I sat in a stupor, staring at the the departing form of my father's second. My father moseyed around the counter and through the swinging divider that kept the public from his private domain. Drawing my stunned self into a firm hug, my father patted me on the back. Drawing away, my father lifted my chin so I was forced to look him in the eyes, and he nodded approvingly at what he saw.

"He's right, boy. You're stagnating here. Me and Bear have taught you everything we can. Hay, I'm sure you've learned a thing or two from Strongback, too, but this place is too small, too few ponies." I snuffled, tears starting and my head smarting. My father embraced me again, letting me cry myself out, which didn't take that long.

"Two years. That's nothing, Papa. I'll be back almost before I've left." I ventured, my voice thick.

"Boy, it'll seem like forever from back here, I assure you."

"I-  I..  " I broke out sobbing, again, throwing myself at my father's embrace like I hadn't done since I was a tiny colt. My father held me, rocking me in his strong embrace.

That didn't change anything, though. The tears passed, as tears will, and the reality stayed the same. I returned to my house, a mane and tail salon I had gravitated to as soon as we had arrived in town. The business area was still a little rough, but we had killed off the radroaches infesting the dark spaces, and cleaned the filth out of the entire building. I was rummaging through my belongings in my upstairs bedroom, throwing items out of my footlocker onto the bed.

"Teddy bear, nope, bits, yes, bottlecaps, yes, saddlebags, of course, baseball, nope, baseball, nope, baseball? Nope. Baseball!? No! Baseball...   hnrg." Having exhausted the footlocker, I turned to my wardrobe. "Leather armor! Perfect, definetly. Scarf, nope, boots..  boots. Yes. Dawn? Nope. Giant Hat? Nope." I ignored the giggling filly I had tossed onto my bed as I shuffled through the remaining clothes and clutter in my wardrobe. When I had exhausted the contents of the drab furniture, I turned back to my bed.

"Hi, Dawn."

"Hi, Wicky." Dawn Hope replied, sitting smug and cute on my bedspread. "What're you packing for?"

Dawn Hope is one of the youngest ponies in our settlement. Her orange mane and yellow coat never fail to remind me of the first sunrise I had ever seen. Coming out of the Bridle Pass, worn out and exhausted, the storm that had taken Dawn's mother had snowed itself out, the clouds retreating back into the mountains as if ashamed of ending the life of a sweet and kind pony.

Which was kinda weird, since Dawn's mother was a bit of a bitch. The clouds had went away, though, and instead of returning us to the everpresent cloudcover we had all grown up with, that had been the normal background of the Equestrian Wasteland, we stared in awe at a clear starfilled night sky. The Sun chose that moment to edge above the far horizon, and the thirty or so of us that had survived the trek through the mountains and the gruelling trail before it just stood in the cold and the wet, watching the glorious orb spill its true light across the short piece of road between us and our new home.

Dawn got her name that day. A tiny filly, strapped to my father's back in a bassinet, Dawn was a reminder, at least to my father, of the hope that we would be able to survive and flourish in a new place. To me, she was just my younger sister, with a cute little giggle and a bad habit of treating locked doors like a challenge.  Finding her in my room wasn't even unexpected at this point.

"Well, I'm tired of my little sister showing up in my furniture, so I'm leaving!" I declared, blowing a raspberry at the giggling filly. We laughed together for far too short a time before she grew serious, and stared up at me.

"No, really..  what's going on?"

"I messed up, Dawn. I almost hurt somepony."

"So they're making you leave?"

"Well, yes, but I think they're right – and it's not forever!" I hastily added, as the sunny little filly began to tear up. "Dad thinks I have to leave the tribe – leave the town, to learn more than I have here."

"To finish growin' up." Dawn sniffled.

"...Yeah."

And that was all that was said. I held Dawn while she cried herself into an exhausted doze, and took her across the hallway to tuck her in to the couch she used as a bed when she stayed with me. The slumbering filly sniffled in her sleep as I closed the door behind me, and I could feel myself panicking as I returned to my room.

I was going to leave. The tribe I had been born into, 15 years previous, had settled into this town, named 'Our Tacksworn' in a fit of whimsy, 6 years ago. Ponies had joined us, ponies had left, but all the names and faces I had ever known were here, and tomorrow morning, I would be leaving them.

END CHAPTER ONE.

Wicked Cut

Earth Pony - Light Tan coat, Auburn mane, Hazel eyes

Cutie Mark - Silver Scissors cross with Comb.

S P E C I A L

6 5 4 7 5 7 6

Barter            19

Energy Weapons    17

Explosives        14

Guns            12

Lockpicking        13

Medicine        23

Melee            33

Repair            17

Science        5

Sneak            32

Speech            32

Survival        29

Unarmed        30

Hot Blooded - When your health drops below 50% you gain +10% more damage, but you also suffer -2 to your Agility and Perception attributes.

Tribal Son - As the son of the leader of your tribe, you've recieved the best of training in every skill the tribe has to offer. Unfortunately, shooty and blinky things aren't on that list. Take +5 to Survival, Medicine, Melee, Unarmed, and Sneak, and take -5 to Energy Weapons, Explosives, Guns, Repair, and Science.

Chapter One: Field of Brown, Skies of Grey

As the sun departed, turning the tired fields south of town from tired brown to tarnished gold, I wandered aimlessly around the ground floor of my house, recalling each memory as I passed or touched it. My course took me through the 'sitting' area of the ground floor, past the tired couch I kept meaning to repair, past my trophy case, an old wardrobe with glass doors to show off the mementos of triumph.

Past that rack of memories and the bucket full of weapons next to it. I shuffled through the bucket, pushing aside different types of weapons and different sizes, but nothing seemed worth the extra weight. I had my weapon of choice already lashed to my saddlebags upstairs, a custom poleaxe Dawn had nicknamed 'stickbird' when I tried to explain what a crowbar was. I pulled a machete out of the bucket and mouthed it, swinging it at full extension, then trying some closer cuts.

Still not right. I never did like giving up the range benefit of a good long stick. I spat the machete back into the bucket and turned to one of the mane dryer stations I had cleaned up. We were supposed to have power 'real soon now', and had been for the last two years. I ran a hoof lovingly over the clear plastic dome. I had two, spares that had been stored well enough that two hundred years hadn't even yellowed the plastic. Two would have been a start, a centerpiece to something I hadn't been able to even dream about until after my first year in Our Tacksworn.

I pulled a plastic sheet over the dryer and lashed it in place with a rope. As I pulled the knot tight with my teeth, a knock came on the door. I dropped the tag end and turned to face the door as Strongback pushed it open. As he came in, I shuffled nervously on the cracked old tiles in the salon. I was staring at the floor when he laid his neck alongside mine in a hug, drawing me into an embrace strong enough that I could feel my chest creaking. I hugged back, and we stood there for a moment in the sunset's golden light.

The hug ended, as they do, and I looked Strongback in the eye as he considered me. A small smile on his face, he pointed at me, then then floor.

"I stay here?" I questioned, and he nodded once. He pointed through the window at the setting sun, and then pointed at the opposite horizon.

"Tomorrow morning?" Drew another nod, then Strongback pointed at himself, then the door.

"Ah, you'll be here to get me tomorrow morning." This brought a smile to the face of the burly tan unicorn. Strongback hugged me once more, then ruffled my mane. As I squawked in protest, Strongback left, shooting me one last smile over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

I fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, staring blankly at a patch of the tired grey wall. Strongback's short visit had knocked me off of the job of packing I had been using to distract myself, and the fact of my exile from the tribe I had been born with and the town I had grew up in came up behind me like a radscorpion, it's poisoned stinger hitting me directly in my heart.

The sun slid below the far horizon as I lay there, and as darkness fell, so did my eyelids, until I passed from miserable wakefulness into a more unconscious misery, and I slept.

The sun woke me before anything else. I'm fortunate – most of the tribe is fortunate, really, in that even after 5 years of new arrivals, children, and rescues, there's still less than a hundred of us in a town that used to have a population of over a thousand ponies. There's a lot of room, and a lot of space between homes. My house used to be tucked in between a convenience store and a store that sold boots and berets, but we had removed almost all of the wreckage, which let the larger windows draw a lot of sunlight.

I levered myself to my feet and stretched off the cramps from sleeping on the floor, maundering my way to my tiny kitchen where I mused on sunlight as I cooked breakfast. Bacon on the spark battery-powered hotplate, eggs set aside for after, a couple of the incredibly precious pre-war bread for toasting, and two glasses of milk.

Sunlight was new to me, I was only ten when the skies parted for the first time, but ten years was plenty long enough that I had a strong idea of how the world should be. When the gray skies had parted to reveal our first dawn, we were insulated by the fatigue and stress of the ordeal of getting through the mountains. It had been a blessing that the shock of such a change had been spread out over several days, as we cleared a core of buildings from the abandoned township. The warm light of the sun had changed us. Smiles and laughter were more frequent, ponies seemed more willing to forgive minor trespasses, and, well, ten months after we made it out of the mountains, we suddenly had quite a herd of children underfoot.

Sunlight and meat. Two things that we took for granted, really. My father didn't know, but could talk theory for hours, what made us different from raiders. We had only lost two or three tribe members over the years to 'Raider Sickness', which wasn't fun. Having to put down someone you'd known for years, cutting their throat or bashing their head in as they gibbered madly...  I shuddered in memory, then pushed my thoughts past that familiar stumbling block. Raider sickness was a terror of its own, thick in layers like an onion of misery, but most of us didn't suffer from it. Not the complete version, anyway. It seemed that everyone had an appetite for meat, which had led to the glory that is bacon.

Let's all take a moment to praise bacon. Pigs aren't people, all praise be to Celestia's name, and they are delicious. The bacon itself, Celestia's love made food, was sizzling and spitting in the pan when I heard the clatter of a filly coming down the stairs at speed.

"Good morning, Dawn" I greeted her as the filly yawned her way through the open doorway into the kitchen. She hopped up on one of the stools at the tiny counter, waving with one hoof while rubbing sleepily at her eyes with the other.

"Bacon." She greeted me, blinking in that adorable drowsy way that only young children seem to pull off. I stretched a hoof over and ruffled her mane, drawing a sleepy bleat of protest that I met with laughter.

"You sound less sad than last night, big brother. Are you feeling better?" Dawn asked as I pinched a spatula in my fetlock and slid the bacon onto a plate to cool. The eggs went into the pan moments later, sizzling in the hot grease.

"I am, a bit. Strongback came over last night after you went to sleep, and we talked." I told her seriously. Dawn nodded, and grinned wolfishly at her breakfast as I slid it in front of her, followed by a glass of milk. Eggs, Bacon, Toast, Milk.

I couldn't help but smile myself as I put my own plate on the counter and sat down next to her. I favored her with a look before I dug into my own plate, crunching my way through crispy bacon and slurping up the over-easy eggs with gusto. Dawn looked OK. Mussed from sleep, her orange mane stuck out in bristly chunks, bobbing as she ate. At five years old, she was still a very young filly, but she was healthy, confident, and well fed, like most of us since we had brought a farm back into production. We finished our breakfast in a comfortable silence, and Dawn drug a stepstool over to help me do the dishes afterwards. Earth ponies are just as good as unicorns, don't let anyone claim otherwise, but it does make it difficult to talk while doing the dishes.

We finished with the cleanup and returned to the living room. The rising sun painted the old brown couch into a dramatic monument. I plopped down, and Dawn curled up into a little filly ball next to me.

"So what did Strongback have to say last night, Wicky?" Dawn asked as I brushed her bed-mane into submission. I transferred the brush from my mouth to a fetlock grip, slower and less capable, but still OK.

"Well, he said I was supposed to stay here until he came to get me. I don't think I'm under arrest or anything, but I'm not going anywhere until I'm told."

"I think they just don't want you wandering off or doing something stupid." Dawn offered, and I grunted in agreement, working at a particularily nasty tangle.

"Probably. He hugged me real hard, I don't think he's mad at me at all." I replied, and Dawn sprang to her feet, snatching the brush from me and thumping me on the forehead with it.

"Well I am! Why do you have to leave, anyway!" Dawn said, then sat back on her haunches, a stern look on her face. I couldn't help but grin as I snatched the brush back from her and ran a thick lock of her mane over her face.

"I think I get it. There's only like 50 ponies here, and we're all tribals or wastelanders. Dad and Strongback don't want this place to turn into just another raider nest or mass grave...  we need to connect with something...  bigger."

"Like a teacher?"

"Right. Or a big brother." Dawn considered this, staring cross-eyed at the forelock I had brushed over her face. She was about to reply, when there was a knock on the door, and I jumped off the couch, suddenly nervous. "That's probably Strongback, let him in while I go grab my stuff."

I mounted the stairs in a hurry, and in my bedroom I shrugged into my leather armor, fumbling with the unfamiliar clasps and straps as I cinched it tight. The saddlebags came next, once I had lengthened the straps to account for the armor, and their familiar fastenings went on easily.

I stretched this way and that, settling the weight and bulk of the armor, and considered my Stickbird. The pole was a support from an awning, with a crowbar wired securely to the shaft, point forward. I could hook incoming blows fairly well, and develop a mean strike with the leverage provided by the springy, sturdy pole. I slid it under the straps of my saddlebags, in the scabbard cunningly built into my leather armor, and bent my neck around to check clearances.

A couple of frog hops to make sure nothing was loose or rattling, and I trotted back down the stairs, anxious and shaky, but not willing to wait any more. Strongback was there, as I had guessed, and had Dawn wrapped in the white-edged brown of his levitation magic. Dawn floated in a fillyball, giggling as she extended one leg or another to change the slow tumble she was in, floating just above the floor. Strongback looked up at me as I reached the ground floor, and set Dawn gently down.

She sprang to her hooves and looked at me, then at Strongback, her ears flat to her head, and a scowl on her face. I patted her on her cheek, and then turned to face Strongback.

"Is it time?" I asked. Strongback replied with a nod, then turned without another word or gesture and held the door open. I walked out with my head high, the leather armor hopefully hiding my shaking knees. Dawn came out after me, and Strongback brought up the rear. He closed the door behind him, and I pulled the key from my saddlebag, locking the door. I considered the door lock for a second, before pulling the key out and tossing it to Strongback.

"Keep an eye on the place for me, SB. I'll be back."

Strongback caught the key in his magic, tucking it into his own saddlebags, and turned a look on me that I couldn't decipher, before nodding once and heading off.

I followed his amble down Night Guard Avenue, the little street with the big name, and we made our way through town to the amphitheater.

The amphitheater was our biggest luxury, and one of the hardest challenges we had faced as a community. When we had first moved in to the town, the amphitheater was a deadly swamp, swarming with bloatsprites and haunted by a nightstalker nest in the backstage areas. The thick, heavy stone construction of the facility had stood the test of time almost undamaged, and the nightstalkers had taken advantage of the shelter to thrive.

Once the dangerous animals had been dealt with, we still had a swamp. Work underground on the tunnel system had turned up a map, and the map showed an oversized storm drain from the center of the conical theater. It wasn't until somepony found a rebreather, and got it working again, that we were able to free the drain and clean the seating. All this work had left us with an imposing and grand public meeting area, with excellent acoustics and lines of sight. We used it for public meetings and events, marriages and duels. A small group of ponies was even trying to put together some of the old plays from scripts and leftovers found in the backstage.

Today it was going to be the site of my exile. The nervous tension spiked as we pushed through the street access into the backstage spaces, and I began trembling hard enough to rattle my Stickbird in its carrier. When we reached the wings and stopped, I wasn't able to do anything but lean against the wall and shake. Strongback leaned against me, pushing me into the wall with his warm comforting weight, and Dawn climbed up onto my back to throw her forelegs around my neck. I stood there and shook for a few minutes, until I heard my father's voice.

"Boy? You in that chunk of Brahmin somewhere?"

I lifted my head to see my father gazing sadly at me. I shoved to my hooves, Strongback shifting sideways to let me off the wall, and plucked Dawn off my back. Dropping her gently at my side, as I faced my father squarely.

"Hi, Dad. I'm scared."

"I know, son. It'll all work out, I think for the best. Me and Big Bear were talkin' till all hours last night, and we think this is the right thing, the only thing to do. We got you a passel of supplies laid up, too. Bear will have it for you at the gate." My father turned away and coughed vigorously, rubbing at his eyes with a forehoof.

"Actually...  I agree, Dad. We've got to move forward, here, or we're gonna start sliding back." I paused to snuffle. Shaking my head, I fought back the tears and set my stance. Raising my head confidently, I continued. "It's still bucking terrifying!"

I threw myself into my father's embrace and just broke. Dawn was clinging to my side bawling as well, and it was quite a while before any of us could get our equilibrium back. My father pulled a chunk of rag out of his saddlebag, and we were able to clean up and put our game faces back on. Dad ruffled my mane one more time, then put on his Leader Face. I stood at attention as well as I could manage, while Dawn sat next to Strongback watching us and sniffling.

"It's about time, son. The lot of us should be here by now. Sit tight, and I'll call you out when it's time."

"OK, Dad."

And nothing more remained to be said. My father made his way back onto the stage, dragging the portable lectern that we had pieced together, and began to address the assembled ponies.

"Pipe down, you insolent lot! How is a stallion supposed to get a good tyranny going with you unruly nags to lord it over!"

Dad's initial joke was met with a good rooba of laughter and some spotty clops of applause. I'd always, once I understood what was going on, admired how he used humor and intelligence to hold our tribe together, where another might have used brute force or simple volume.

"OK, ok, let's see, one, two, three, four..  looks like everypony's here, if there's someone who isn't, tell 'em what you heard."

The crowd had gone almost completely quiet. Not the silent of terrified or cowed ponies, but the attentive hush of ponies who were interested in what the speaker had to say.

"You all know me, and I know you. But let's lay it out in a little more detail. I'm Egg Forbreakfast. I'm the leader of this town. We call it Our Tacksworn, and we smile when we say it. You are, each and every one of you, citizens of this town. We are all different, we know different things, each of us help in our own way."

Father paused to let the approving murmurs swish through the audience before continuing. His voice, confident and proud before, held a tremor now. Not quite fear, but certainly apprehension.

"For five years we've built, and cleaned, and repaired. But that's not going to be enough, because for three of those years, we've done nothing new."

And his voice surged out of fear, past his earlier confidence, and straight into firey oration territory. I was smiling big, by now. My father wears a lot of different hats, but one of his favorite is his speechifying hat.

"The first year we conquered terror! We cleansed the town of bloatsprites, nightstalkers and bloodwings. We rescued DC and Deerjohn, and they're part of our group, part of US now!"

Dad paused, I imagine to let DC and Deerjohn stand up and be recognized.

"The second year we cleansed the bloodwings, began farming our own fresh, wonderful food, began raising chickens and pigs, and restored this very amphitheater."

Here dad's voice dropped to almost a whisper – only the excellent acoustics of the bowl ensured that everyone would be able to hear him.

"And since then...  nothing. We've knocked down a few buildings. We've cleared a few streets, and put another foot of height on the walls. We aren't moving forward any more. And when you've stopped moving forward, it's only a matter of time until you start sliding back."

And now his voice swelled back to a more normal range, almost businesslike.

"There's nothing we can do in and amongst ourselves to change this. It's not any individual person that is at fault, in fact there's no fault to be had. We simply do not have the resources or the learning to go farther in making this town a viable, healthy community."

Dad held silence while this settled in the minds of the townsfolk. The disturbed rumble that came back was punctuated by a female voice shouting a question.

"Well, you got any idea what to do about it?"

I couldn't recognize the speaker, but that didn't bother me. I figured Dad would never miss such an opportunity, so I shook myself to settle my armor and saddlebags in place, then ran a quick hoof over my mane. Dad's reply was pretty much what I was expecting.

"In fact, we do. Big Bear and I got this idea from Strongback, and we've kicked it around enough that we think we've killed it dead, and now it's time to fry it up. Boy, come out here."

I gave Dawn a quick, but firm, hug and stepped out of the wing, blinking in the bright sunlight as I took my place next to my father. He stood on the low pedestal of the podium, and laid a foreleg over my shoulders as I sat on my haunches next to him.

"We're gonna send one of our best and brightest out there, back into the wasteland, to learn somethin', and maybe to bring somethin' good home for us."

I waved at the collected ponies, all the faces I had grown up with blurring as I had to blink away sudden tears. I coughed once and rose to my feet. "The idea, I think, was that I could get out there and figure out what's good to bring home better than a message or a signal. And if I failed, if I die...  I'm not necessary. There are ponies here who do every job here better than I can. I'm sure I'll be missed, but nopony is going to suffer because I leave."

"Well, that, and I'm still young enough myself that I can make another one, looks just like him!" My father joked, and a laugh bounced around the crowd. Silence fell, and a female stood to her feet.

"OK, boy, we all know you, and you're plenty smart, and pretty tough, so what you gonna do?"

I had to pause for a moment before answering. "Well, I've been thinking on it, and I've talked about this with my father and Bear before. I'm going to go south. We came from the North, and we know there ain't nothing behind us but slavers and miners. I wasn't one of the ponies to escape Shattered Hoof, but I've heard the stories, and I don't want none of that."

My answer seemed to satisfy her, and she knelt back down on her bench, nodding. I fielded a few more questions (was I going alone; yes, how long was I staying; two years, unless I had to come back, was I insane; quite possible), and my father closed the session down, saying that they had to have me 'good and kicked out' before high noon. Father and I left the stage back to the wings, and joined up with Dawn and Strongback, and Big Bear, who had joined them. Bear looked pleased, which was normal. Bear almost always looked pleased, an amiable grin was the normal expression on his shaggy features. Bear embraced me, briefly but warmly, and we got on our way, headed towards the south gate at a steady trot. Dawn jumped up on my back and hugged my neck, her weight bouncing against me as we neared the gate.

Our Tacksworn isn't a small town. With the added area of the farm fields surrounding the athletics center, it can take the better part of an hour to trot from the north side of town to the far south, and it's far too large to wall effectively. Our defensive strategy, which was almost completely untested, was to instead clear the east and west approaches, piling rubble and taking advantage of terrain features to funnel attackers into more easily guarded and surveyed paths. The south side, though, had an actual wall.

Even if it only extended a hundred lengths from the lakeshore, and was only two lengths high for most of that, it was still a wall, and it had the South Gate of Our Tacksworn, which was an important symbol for what we were doing today.

We had a small crowd with us by the time we got to the gatehouse, but they stayed far enough back to give us some amount of privacy at the Gate. My father embraced me once more, shaking a little himself, and I hugged him back as hard as I could, Dawn clinging to my neck like a barnacle. Strongback clouted me once on the shoulder and ruffled my mane, turning and trotting back towards town. Big Bear plopped down on his haunches, turning to nose through his saddlebags. He tossed a cloth wrapped bundle to my father, who passed it to me, and turned back to pull a strange segmented bracelet out, which he spat into his hooves.

"We are going to miss you, Wicked." he intoned in his low, rumbly voice. "But your father was right, we aren't going anywhere right now, and something's gotta change. It's your job to find a way out there to make that change good."

My father nodded and gestured at the weird thing Bear held. "We think this can help. Me, Bear, and Rocky have been working on that thing on and off for a couple months, now, and we want you to take it with you." Bear tossed the bracelet at me, and I examined it. It was thick and heavy, the segments rounded and a dull greeny-brown color. One of the segments had a shiny black display, like a tiny terminal, set into it, and the segments above and below that one had buttons set into them.

Bear gestured at the bracelet I was examining. "That's an S.M.A., a Stable-tec Mapping Assistant. It knows where it is, and where it's been. Got the same mapping setup as one of those fancy pip-bucks, basically. None of the combat or medical stuff, but we've actually got one of these."

My father laughed. "Now, Bear, let's not let reality get in the way here. Put the thing on, boy. It'll teach you how to use it on the road, and, well, it's that time."

I did so, then shook Dawn off, hugging her tight before I shooed her back to my father. I then stood as straight and proud as I could, facing the big gate as my father yelled for it to be opened. The grinding clanks of the pony-powered winches seemed to be the loudest thing I had ever heard, but I kept my face composed and my stance confident as I trotted forward into the cleared verge.

I couldn't resist, and as the gate started to close behind me, I turned and reared, punching at the air with my front hooves as I yelled back. "See you in two years!" I dropped out of my pose back to all four hooves, turning the maneuver into the start of a gallop, south, away from my home town and into the unknown.

I didn't make it very far that day. I had been south of the gate before, but what little familiarity I had with the rolling hills ran out before my first burst of energy did. I dropped awkwardly out of my gallop into a rough canter, sorting my leading legs out over several steps. I settled down into the divided push of the canter, my back legs alternating while my front legs beat time against the ground. The green healthy land in and around Our Tacksworn swiftly faded into the brown scrub of the Wasteland.

Whatever had happened shortly after the skies had cleared was still a fascinating thing to us, something we chewed on around the fire or at the dinner table. Waves of rainbow light, cascading over the mountains, had stripped the radiation from the amphitheater and from the factories. The ground had been cleaner afterwards, easier to farm. The soil around the town and a fair distance out into the Wasteland had started to green, long-dormant seeds and shoots pushing their way up through the soil. The greening didn't stretch far from town, and it was starting to fade even as I passed out of sight of the town wall. I loped along in the canter, my mind stuttering and wavering between excitement and quivering terror.

I popped up over the crest of a small ridge and slid to a stop, confronting a terrible menace. The flat rounded paddles of the cactus only waved slightly in the afternoon breeze, and the pinkish flowers almost glowed in the sunlight. I kicked a hindleg up to knock Stickbird out of its sheath, and caught it as it flew forward. I slashed at the cactus monster, knocking several of the thick, fleshy flowers and a couple paddles off, and then threw my weapon back into its sheath.

"Yaar, vile wasteland monster, cower before me!"

I glanced around for the smiles and laughter of my appreciative audience, and seeing none, bent down to sniff at the fallen plant matter with a scowl on my face. The unfamiliar cactus had a light, pleasant aroma, and was weeping a clear fluid from the crushed and smashed damage done by my crowbar. I knocked the spines off of the paddles as best I could and wrapped them in a scrap of canvas before tucking them into my saddlebags...  that smell had possibilities, oh yes it did. Looking around for signs of life and again finding none, I sidestepped around the cactus and pushed off into the wasteland with a ground-covering trot.

Time passed uneventfully for the afternoon, the rolling hills flattening out into a variegated plain, covered in scrubby grasses and the occasional nondescript bush. I harvested several of the infrequent mesquite bushes for their beans, stashing them in my saddlebags with the bundled cactus. As the sun lengthened, I began casting further away from my southern course, searching for a protected spot to spend the evening. Eventually, the lowering light revealed a clot of green, and I almost fell into the small pond surrounded by mesquite and other shrubs.

My stumbling push through the thick, thorny hedge startled the current occupant of the waterhole, who lunged at me with a screech, and gashed my left foreleg with its incredibly sharp teeth. Screaming, I managed to dance around the horrible fleshy thing and kick my weapon into my mouth grip. Stickbird sang through the air as I slashed at it, and the critter tried to dodge my strike, but failed. The pointy steel tip of my weapon ripped a furrow across its shoulder, and the creature, which I realized was a molerat, now that I had a moment to look at it, squealed again and charged. I was much more prepared this time, with better footing, and I met its charge with a powerful stab, putting my neck and shoulders into the strike. This, in addition to the molerat's own momentum, would...

Glance off its shoulder and leave me open to another bite on that same left foreleg. I managed to knock the horrid thing back and get my leg out of those gnashing teeth, but I was hurting, and the molerat hissed triumphantly at me before charging again. Desperation and pain-fueled anger added strength to my strike, and this time I struck true, putting the tip of my weapon directly between the molerat's eyes. The steel of the crowbar crunched through the skull of the molerat and into its brainpan and I dropped my end of the weapon and backed away as the dead thing started thrashing out its death convulsions. I quickly checked around for more of the naked, ugly creatures, and found nothing. I watched the molerat warily as its convulsions quieted to quivers, then ceased with a flatulent sound as everything in its body relaxed, spilling out both ends to join the bloody pool coming from its head.

I retched at the smell, then, my vomit joining the disgusting mess that had slumped noisily out of the molerat. Never my favorite part of hunting, to be honest. My saddlebags yielded some of the fragrant mesquite leaves, which I crushed and rubbed around my nose. Smell much improved, my saddlebags yielded one of the healing powders I had squirreled away, and a fresh cloth. A sprinkling of the powder directly into the wound caused me to hiss in fresh pain, but with a little more on my improvised bandage and a quick knot, I could feel the wound closing.

The corpse of the molerat was fortunately not leaking into the water hole, so I drug it out of its puddle of filth and splashed it with water from the pond, cleaning it as best I could. A cautious sniff indicated that the water was fresh and pure, and the healthy green surrounding the water argued in its favor as well. Deciding I was as safe as I could be, I cleaned my mouth of the taste of vomit and drank deeply, slaking my thirst and cooling off the heat of my day's travel and short combat.

Thirst quenched and wound dealt with, I kicked dirt over and into the puddle of sick from the death of the molerat, burying it neatly. The stench eased, brightening my spirits quite a bit, and it was with a happy spring to my step that I returned to the molerat corpse and dressed it out. The critter was light boned for its size, and had the subtle wrongness of proportion and form that mutated critters all seemed to possess, but the meat was firm and well marbled, there didn't seem to be any parasites, and it looked and smelled rich enough that with a little work, I might have bacon in the morning!

My joy doubled shortly thereafter. My decision to camp here for the night proved even better than I had thought, as the spring feeding this water hole had hollowed a small cave, just big enough for the sort of compact one-pony operation I was running. I setup a campfire near the front of the cave, but far enough away to keep from smoking myself out. The surrounding mesquite and scrub yielded more than enough dry dead wood to keep me in fire all night long, and I couldn't help but feel smug as my fire crackled to life, the first flames flickering up as the sun dropped below the horizon.

I processed the molerat into dinner and supplies as the evening turned to night, content and confident. The bones and tendons were too weak to do anything useful with, but the meat was fatty and smelled incredible, wrapped with mesquite leaves in a section of hide and roasting on the edge of the coals. I put together several meals worth of molerat steaks, wrapped in mesquite and grasses, and sealed in rough-stitched bags made out of the creature's own hide. While the hide didn't impress me with its toughness either, I was sure that it would last long enough to keep the meat from soiling my saddlebags. The creature wasn't naked, as I had thought, but only had a few sparse tufts of rank hair, useless. The smell of the molerat cooking changed subtly from 'cooking' to 'done', and I drug it out of the fire with the tip of my Stickbird. The meat went on one of my plates from home, and I filled a bowl with a rough field salad before digging in.

Victory, it turns out, is the best seasoning. Either that, or molerat is just good eatin'!

The mesquite branches and deadfalls I had started the fire with were very well behaved, burning long and hot. I didn't have to maintenance the fire too enthusiastically, which left me with plenty of free time. My first order of business was to check my gnawed foreleg, which was already well on the way to healed, thanks to the healing powder, and didn't look poisoned or infected. I washed the bandage out in the waterhole and hooked it on a mesquite's thorns to dry. I settled back down next to the fire, and pulled the bundle Big Bear had given me out of my saddlebags. The rough cloth sack revealed a treasure trove of chems, at least two Mentals, Buck, Dash, Stampede, even a couple doses of Fixer and a single dose of Hydra. As big as the chems were, they paled next to the two healing potions, cloudy bottles of darkest purple in their individual leather covers. The bag of a thousand caps stuck in the bottom of the sack was almost a letdown after the healing potions. We didn't have the ability to make them, and what few we had left were jealously guarded and precious.

I started crying as I put the bag back together and secured it in my saddlebags. I let the tears flow, staring into the fire. Everything was starting to sink in, and it was overwhelming. I thought this wasn't supposed to happen, I thought that I understood what was going on and that once I got started, I wouldn't be this scared. Not just of the Wasteland, though I knew it would do the best it could to kill me, but of failure.  My home town was stagnating. We didn't have the tools or knowledge to do anything but fight, and the rejection of the 'raider thing' was one of the defining characteristics of our community.

If I couldn't find a next step, a way forward, we were doomed. That sobering, terrifying, horrible thought ushered me off to sleep.

Chapter Two: Cactus Flowers and Judgement Calls

Author's Note: Many thanks to my pre-readers, $Roomate_1 and Arcane_Scroll, and to coffee!

I woke in the middle of the night, darkness complete and heavy, cloudcover barely visible, blotting out everything but the faintest of glows from the full moon. I stared blearily into the near total black of night, before rolling onto my side and stretching my neck around to work the clasps and buckles of my armor. I had fallen asleep fully dressed, and I was certain to wake up chafed and sore if I didn't get this armor off. Disturbed by my shifting, the warm weight tucked in behind my forelegs grunted and snuffled closer to me, tucking up against my chest.

I immediately leapt to my hooves and started screaming. The heavy weight clung to my chest, managing to hold on to the straps of my armor, and I flailed at it, panicking and screaming. The whatever it was on my chest screamed along with me, and I flailed my way out of the cave, knocking the cold ashes of my campfire asunder, and fell into the water hole.

I stiffened in shock as I fell into the water, and by the time I had regained control of my muscles and stood up, my armor was without passenger. Barrel heaving as I gasped for breath, cold water streaming off my hide, I stared across the scattered wreckage at the indistinct blob crouched in the mouth of the cave, making squeaking noises and quivering. I lunged into my saddlebag, frantically shuffling through my belongings, and gasped in relief as my lips closed on a familiar knobbly cylinder. I pulled the flare out of my saddlebag and crunched through the cap before throwing it off to the side. The flare ignited with a hiss, casting its red-orange light across the clearing, revealing my assailant to be a tiny molerat.

For it's part, the tiny molerat squinted shut its beady eye and hid from the flare's light, squeaking pitifully. I made my way out of the watering hole, pausing to shake off as best I could. The molerat watched me as I made my way slowly up the bank. I sidled over to where I had leaned my weapon earlier that evening, and snatched it into my grip. Confidence restored by my Stickbird, I levelled the point at the molerat and eased myself towards it, slowly, slowly. The molerat swung its head from side to side, keeping me in the focus of one of its beady black eyes at all times. I closed the distance between me and the diminutive critter, and it backed away slowly, still nervously keeping an eye on me at all times. When it ran up against the wall of the cave, it whirled around, and I hesitated, my weapon lifted to strike.

Seeing the cave wall behind it, it tried to dig into the smooth rock, but failed, its juvenile claws skittering across the hard surface. I paused as it tried to escape, uttering small whistles of fear as it dug at the unyielding stone. Shortly, it gave up, and turned back to me. The sharpened point of Stickbird was right before it, motionless in my grip. The sputtering light of the flare gave a reddish cast to the hairless rodent, making it look like was already bloody and wounded. My unease at this sight fueled my hesitation, and I remained motionless as the creature considered the tip of my weapon. Moments stretched before the molerat collapsed with a sigh, ignoring me and my weapon and just staring at the far wall, lit with the ruddy light of the flare.

Its mother had tried to turn me into a meal earlier that day, but there didn't appear to be any harm in her cub. I poked it in the nose with the tip of Stickbird, and it grunted, but made no motion to flee or attack. I drew back my weapon for a powerful strike, and couldn't follow through. With a grunt of my own, I tossed my weapon back into its sheathe, and knelt down to face the small limp figure of the molerat. I stretched out a hoof and poked the critter in its shoulder. There was no reaction, and I pulled my hoof back to my side, and considered the actual events of the evening.

I had passed out in front of the fire, fully barded, without checking the security of my campsite, I hadn't even looked thoroughly into the cave to check for other critters. I had gotten so wrapped up, first in the field dressing of the adult molerat, then in my own introspection. I had fallen asleep in front of the fire, my night vision ruined by its light, my nose filled with fragrant mesquite smoke. When I had woken up, the molerat pup had been cuddled up against me, the warmest thing in the cave. It hadn't been attacking in any way.

I heaved a sigh, and got back to my feet. I kept an eye on the molerat pup as I checked the cave, finding nothing but the den that had likely held the pup. I shed my armor, hanging the wet leather on bushes to dry. I rebuilt the fire, and managed it back to life with the stub of the flare. My saddlebags had survived my impromptu bath without soaking the contents, and I pulled a bundle of grasses I had stashed earlier that day out before I lay back down in the firelight.

Reaching to the still-motionless molerat, I dropped a twisted grass stalk in front of it, and waited. Shortly, the little critter blinked and sniffed at the grass, before inhaling it, crunching vigorously on the slender strand. The molerat eyed me again when it had finished the grass, and I pushed another twist to it, which it devoured immediately. The third twist I didn't push as far, and the pup had to come away from the wall slightly to get it. I repeated the maneuver with the rest of the grasses, and I still had a small amount left when I finally convinced the molerat pup to cuddle up in the hollow of my foreleg again. I munched idly, staring into the flames.

"It looks like I've got to keep you, little guy." I mused aloud. The molerat did not reply, grunting and wiggling a little closer. "Well, you've got to have a name, then. Without a name, you're just..  vermin."

I pondered on that while I ate the rest of my grass. There was one easy name, suggested by the critter's normal behavior, and it sounded good to me. I just needed to get his opinion. "Hey." I said, nudging the critter with a hoof. It grunted and looked up at me, blinking. "Your name is Blinky now. You like that?"

Blinky appeared to consider this for a moment, before grunting and tucking his snout back into the warmth of my foreleg. I laughed at him, and drifted off to sleep again, dry, warm, and not alone.

The next morning was excellent. I had slept peacefully until the bright sunlight had filled the shallow cave, heating my coat and dragging me out of my slumber. I stretched the night's stiffness out of my hips and shoulders, almost a stylized dance of lunges and poses that got my blood flowing and shook loose any stiffness I had acquired during the night. The streaming sunlight helped a lot, and as I drank my fill from the water hole, I felt great, muscles loose, warm and happy.

I made a circuit of the water hole, pulling my armor off of the bushes and dressing. While the leather had held up well this time, I needed to oil and clean it before too much longer. Salt from sweat or blood would cause the leather to dry out and crack, rapidly making it useless. Water would stain, and worse, strip the oils out that kept the leather supple and waterproof... ish. Today was OK, though, and I worked my way into the protective barding. Blinky, as wide awake as he ever got, was watching me intently, making soft little wuffing sounds. It wasn't until I was stretched down, trying to get the very important 'sheathe plate' that protected my nethers settled, that I figured it out. The little varmint was laughing at me!

Blinky fell over, wuffling, and I snatched the belly strap for the sheathe plate in my jaws, pulling it taut and clipping it off before levelling a glare at the rodent. "As soon as I get some spare time and supplies, Blinky, I'm making you a set of armor, and we'll see how you like it!" I stuck my tongue out at the laughing molerat pup, and blew him a vigorous raspberry before tightening my barrel strap.

Once the straps and clips and clasps were right, I stretched again, feeling the pull of leather against my hide. A couple straps needed tightening, a couple loosening, but a few minutes of work had my armor as comfortable as a second skin. Blinky had recovered from his bout of hilarity, and was snuffling his way around the walls of the cave. I tossed my saddlebags on, gave them a quick adjustment, and returned to the water hole to fill my canteens. I cast about the water hole and the cave, looking for anything I had forgotten, and kicking water over the ashes of the campfire. I've never had to outrun a grass fire, but I had been told...

Blinky met me at the mouth of the cave, and I grabbed him by a loose fold of hide at the back of his neck, and slung him up onto my back, forward enough that he could curl up in the hollow of my shoulders, which he did. I made my way through the bushy hedge surrounding the water hole, and pointed my nose as straight south as I could. Overhead, the sun was high, and the Wasteland stretched out before me as far as I could see, an unchanging rolling carpet of brush and scrub. One last quick shake to settle my saddlebags, and I started out.

Boring boring bored boredom boring. Bored bored bored. Boars. Boring bores bore boreholes in boring books of boredom. The sun had sunken a noticeable distance towards the horizon, my hooves were starting to feel sore, and the molerat pup tucked up on my shoulders was starting to infuriate me just by being comfortable and asleep. I had mostly held to a loose loping trot through the course of the day, covering lots of boring, nearly identical ground. Bored by the ground. Boring into the ground. Bores of ground miles.

The raider attack was actually a nice change of pace at that point.

The subtle, rolling contours of the Wasteland had pinched in slightly, the hills more abrupt and the valleys between them more defined. This bare minimum of cover was apparently enough to justify an ambush position, which I discovered by the reliable tactic of running right into it. My first warning was a sharpened blade stabbing at the bottom of my barrel, wielded by a quivering wreck of a pony, crouched in a depression I had had trotted right past. I squealed and dodged, managing to keep the sharpened spade of the shovel out of my hide. My dodge, luckily, also took me out of the way of the bullets fired by a second pony, hidden behind the first.

My luck didn't hold, and behind me, the third pony, behind me, laid what felt like a thousand pounds of stone across the back of my head. I dropped like a rock. By the time I hit the ground, I had my wits back about me, and I was able to get my legs under me and roll, hard, in the direction of the hitty pony. Things began to happen very quickly, then. I rolled under Hitty Pony's front legs, and ended up on my back under his barrel, as his front hooves came stomping down to smash out my life. I arched my back and curled my hips in to make power, and struck upwards, smashing Hitty's stallionhood squarely with one hoof, and driving the other into his breadbasket, just ahead of his sheathe.

Hitty Pony fell over with a squeal, bucking and thrashing. I managed to stay out from under him as he fell, and was awkwardly scrabbling away from him on my back, legs thrashing. Shovel Pony sprang over the body of his fallen buddy, waving his shovel threateningly, bouncing on his forelegs as he swung his head back and forth.

Blinky surged off the ground and bit him on the sheathe, and hung, swinging, from his nethers. The screams were amazing. I got my feet back under me and backed away further. Blinky swung wildly as the shovel pony flailed, trying to knock the miniature molerat off of his stallionhood. The shovel clenched in his jaws kept digging into his already-scarred flanks, though, not effecting his target in the least. The gunpony jumped over the still-crumpled form of Hitty Pony, and charged past Shovel Pony, screaming around the grip of the gun clenched in his teeth. I managed to kick Stickbird out of its holster, finally. I rode the initial surge of kicking the weapon free into a lunge, and thrust Stickbird over the barrel of the gun clenched in the oncoming pony's mouth. My thrust hit true, and our combined weight forced the tip home, crunching through eye and bone and beyond. The gunpony dropped like a sack of crap, taking my weapon and my head with it. I dropped the handle of Stickbird as the dead pony flopped, and regained my stance to see the former shovel wielder on hindlegs up in front of me, striking with his forehooves and missing his shovel as Blinky swung from his crotch, both of them squealing.

I managed to roll enough with the first strike that it didn't knock me senseless, and dodge the second all together. I reared and lunged, managing to get my forelegs outside of shovelpony's, and my teeth on one of his ears. I instantly regretted that part, his filthy ear making my taste buds scream in agony as I pushed. Shovelpony was scrawny and disgusting up close, his stench almost worse than his attacks. I pushed at his scrawny torso and pulled on his disgusting ear, and like a tree giving up the ghost, Shovelpony fell back.

Back and over. Neither of us had noticed Hitty Pony getting back to his feet, and our bipedal stance put our centers high enough that we toppled completely over the bulkier stallion and went tumbling down into the depression Shovel had originally been hiding in. I managed to get a knee past the tenacious Blinky and into the pit of Shovel's belly, and when we hit, I was on top. Shovel landed very wrong, and went completely still with a crunch.

I spit the hideous ear out and rolled off of Shovel in a hurry, certain that Hitty Pony was going to shortly be stomping me into a paste. I whirled to face him, stance wide and legs sprung loose, ready to dodge one of his powerful blows. The bulky form of Hitty Pony was laying on its side, facing away from me. I skirted his quiescent form and made for gun pony, who was just beyond Hitty, Stickbird jutting from his eye like a flagpole. I snatched the handle of my weapon and jumped over the corpse of gun pony, pulling hard as I did. Stickbird came out of the dead pony's head with another crunch, and I cautiously approached Hitty Pony, who lay still.

Very still, in fact. The only motion there was the trickling of blood from his nose and mouth. I kicked him in the gooblies, hard, and nothing happened. Shovel Pony was dead, like I thought. On closer examination, his cutie mark was a shovel, too, with red dripping off of it. Gunpony only had half a face left, and the wreckage sent me stumbling away from the dead three to puke. I returned to the corpses, empty and wobbly, and rifled through their saddlebags. Lumps of loose flesh, rotten and worthless, mixed with bullets in Gunpony's bags. Shovel's bags hung slack, except for a few smallish rocks, and some hunks of grass.

Hitty Pony was a different story. His pouches were practically bulging with empty Dash inhalers. A couple full ones were rattling around among the empties, and I stashed those in my own saddlebags. The shovel was almost broken, worn out rickety wood and a blade almost rusted through. Hitty pony didn't have any gear to speak of, aside from his saddlebags. None of the raiders were wearing armor.

Blinky was still clinging to Shovel Pony's crotch, and had actually fallen asleep. I left the vicious little critter dangling from Shovel's summer sausage and checked over my armor and saddlebags, all thankfully undamaged from the fight. I cleaned off Stickbird on the hide of Shooty Pony, and re holstered it. I nudged Blinky awake, and with grumpy grumbling, the molerat let go and dropped to the dusty dirt. I hoisted him up onto my back, grunting at the pain moving was starting to cause, and set out, alert and paying attention now.

It was a fair piece of time since the fight. I had gotten well clear of the combat scene, eyes and ears alert for other raiders. No other ponies were nearby that I could see, and the throbbing in my head was getting worse. I stopped in a tiny gully, smaller than the one I had been ambushed in. Bowing my head, I was able to get to the back of my skull with a foreleg, gingerly probing at where Hitty had smashed me. The wound was tender, painful to the touch, but there was no softness, no crunching or movement.

I heaved a sigh of relief, and just stood with my head drooped, staring at the ground. I had just killed three ponies. I had fought animals before, and killed a few feral ghouls underneath the town, but this was the first time I had met a living, breathing, feeling pony... and ended his life. I  kept trying to compare that to the sewer ghouls, or to the bloodwing nest, or even to Blinky's mom, who I'd just executed. The stench from her corpse had bothered me more than the fact that I killed her, but now, now these were ponies.

Were they? All three of them had been unhealthy. Shovel and Gun Pony had both had sores. Hitty Pony had looked..  bizarre. Thinking back on it, he had almost been transparent, dark shapes of veins snaking around his huge malformed muscles clearly visible under his hide. The sores on Shooty and Shovel ponies were actually a pretty big deal, they were a visible symptom of sickness, most likely. Unless something's wrong, our hides protect us fairly well.

I blinked fuzzily, standing there with my legs locked and my head danling. I poked and prodded at my heart, my emotional center, and all I could honestly feel was aggravation, irritated anger that these three raiders had endangered my life and well being. This was a big worry all by itself, I had just killed three ponies, and I was more worked up about possibly getting my head cracked than taking three lives.

It didn't make sense. These were ponies, sure, but they were raiders. They had, whether by conscious decision or failure to resist the infection, stopped being the kind of ponies I would, or needed, to feel bad about killing. Vermin extermination, not murder. We had encountered raiders before, as a tribe. I was young, but I remembered one raider, one of a group of  five. Our scouting party had spotted a group of raiders and pulled back without making contact. The scouts rejoined our marching order behind the warriors, so it was eight heavily armed and armored warriors that confronted the five raiders huddled around a burning barrel fire, instead of three unarmored scouts.

The odds didn't faze the raiders, though. Four of them had immediately opened fire or lunged to attack. Our warriors weren't Reapers, but they weren't pushovers, and had destroyed the raiders in short order. The four that attacked had died immediately, but the fifth...

The fifth 'raider' had assumed a surrender pose, stretched out on his back with his belly and throat exposed, and remained motionless while his fellows were slaughtered. The warriors had held him at bay, silent and trembling, while the rest of our tribe had caught up. I was 8 or 9 years old, and I didn't understand the significance of what happened, but Big Bear had examined the raider closely, still held at spearpoint in his supine posture. The raider was shaking, and had wet himself at some point, but was quiet and motionless, aside from the trembling, as Big Bear poked and prodded at him, and my father asked him questions. The questions went well, apparently, as one of the warriors helped the scrawny buck to his feet, and led him into the midst of the vanguard.

I smiled as I went over the memory. I hadn't realized it then, but it made sense now. That scrawny buck had been under guard, even if we had tentatively accepted him. The armed and armored warriors surrounding him were as much a threat of what could happen to him, as a promise of what he could become. And he had proven out. By the time the tribe entered the mountains, that turned out to be our last trial before Our Tacksworn, he had grown into a trusted member of the scouts, and we had mourned him as one of the beloved fallen, when we finally had time for a memorial.

That wasn't the case, here. These raiders had never had the chance or inclination to reject the mad, bestial state that was the end result of the 'full' infection with raider sickness. They weren't ponies. They were just...  pony-shaped. The tears that had been falling dried, and I wiped the last of them off with a foreleg. It made sense, then. I didn't feel bad about killing ponies, because I hadn't. The distinction wasn't...  completely solid... in my mind, but it was stable enough that I was able to wipe off my tears and shake myself back together.

Back together was relative, of course. I had checked out my own head as best I could, and checked all my gear and bags, which were intact. That left only one thing, and I craned my neck around to grab it. Blinky snuffled and grumped as I swung him around in front of me, and when I dropped him, he turned around and stretched up at me, patting my muzzle with his blunt claws. I poked him with my muzzle a few times, checking his movements and reactions. Blinky was game, forelegs and hind legs moving well, no injuries on his wrinkly hide. I gave the ugly little thing an affectionate nuzzle, and set him back on my shoulders.

All present and accounted for. The sun rolled high in the sky, not too terribly far after noon, and time was wasting. I rinsed my mouth and spat, clearing the last of Shovel Pony's foul taste, and took a small drink before stowing my canteen, and moving out into the Wasteland. An easy canter served to warm me up, and once everything was flowing and loose, I shifted back into my original loping trot and started to lay some miles. I stayed alert, this time, which of course meant that nothing happened. There was still some sun left in the sky when I stumbled on a low, empty cave. The cave was little more than a hollow in a hillside, but it was protected from the wind and weather, and reduced the amount of area I'd have to keep watch on.

A few twists of mesquite and some sparks from my flint and steel served to make a tiny fire. Blinky, pulled off his comfy perch on my shoulders, immediately curled up in the back of the cave. I roasted up some of my molerat steak on the small fire, chowing down on greens from home, sizzling happiness, and a preserved pre-war snack cake for desert. Blinky roused himself from his doze long enough to steal half my snack cake, before returning to his nap. I tucked in next to the ball of molerat, watching the flames of my small fire flicker in the angled light of the evening.

My forehoof caught on the stretchy band around my off hoof as I knelt down, bringing my father's weird gift to my attention. I settled down in front of the fire and considered the device. The band was curved blocks of some hard material. It felt slick and hard like the plastics I had worked with repairing my mane driers, and was a soft black. There looked like wires in the stretchy parts, joining the blocks to each other, and to the main unit. Bear had called it a mapping assistant, said it was related to the vault-issue pip-buck. Looking closer, the device only had three buttons, two big ones on either side of the screen, and a smaller one tucked away in a recess. I poked at the two larger buttons, and got no reaction. The screen itself wiggled when I poked at it. Having ruled out the obvious, I poked the recessed button with a hooftip, and was rewarded with a flash of light and bright green scrolling words across the screen.

The text faded, swiftly replaced with a green linework image of a staring eye. I blinked at the eye, and it blinked at me, before it pulled away from the screen, inside the device. Pulling away it revealed another eye, and a little lineart nose, and then a whole pony face, drawn in simple green lines. Text popped up below the little face, welcoming me to the 'Stable-Tek mapping assistant', and I settled myself in for a long evening of learning. The device was cunningly built, and let me see the trace of where I had been, and a lot of cities that looked to be days and days of travel away. There were lines, roads according to the mapper, far to the west, over the same mountain range we had come to find Our Tacksworn.  While I wouldn't mind a road, so far the cross-country travel had been working out just fine. South-East was a transition and the symbol indicating 'Lake', which sounded like a good enough target for me. Water meant survival, after all, and the chance of finding a decent-sized settlement was better near water.

I poked around in the mapper for the rest of the evening, learning what the neat little device was capable of. Nightfall snuck up on me, and as my fire guttered and flickered in the gathering dark, I made myself comfortable, and drifted off to sleep.

Morning came with grunts and a cold, wet nose, snuffling and nuzzling in my ear. All four of my legs jerked straight out in a spasm of shock, and I knocked Blinky tumbling as I surged to my feet. The wuffling of molerat laughter accompanied my panicky surge to my hooves, and I glared at the laughing pup. Blinky was unrepentant, so I blew the varmint a raspberry and went about my morning.

Blinky had rudely awakened me in the gloomy false dawn, just before sunrise. I hustled to get my armor and saddlebags on and settled before the sun made its first real appearance. True sunrise found me and Blinky ready to travel. The mapping assistant, active now, nudged me towards South-East – towards the water labeled on the map as the Inland Sea. The sun crept above the horizon, and I reared to welcome it, dancing in the first rays of the sun. Blinky chittered angrily as I fell back to all four hooves, and I laughed at him as I set out, bound for the water I should reach by the end of the day.

The rolling plains slowly flattened as we made time, Blinky passed out on my shoulders, me fighting to stay alert. The shorter hills stretched my visibility out, and the horizon seemed to be running away from me as fast as I was trotting towards it. High noon saw me and Blinky curled at the base of the tallest of the scrubby mesquite trees we had seen in hours. Tree was, perhaps, too grandiose a term for the spindly, short wood, but it served to break the direct glare of the sun. Lunch was simple, pre-war snack cakes and twists of sweetgrass from home. We napped through the worst of the day's heat, then, with Blinky tucked between my forelegs. Napping was one of the best ways to pass through the worst heat of the day. It was still hot when I woke, but it wasn't nearly as oppressive as it had been. As it was, my canteens were running low, and I was hoping I found a good water source by nightfall.

The Wasteland stretched before me, empty as far as I could see. Distances were still confusing, but they were starting to make sense. I marked a cactus with what looked like an upturned hoof, as it showed on the horizon, and it was just about a half hour before I passed it. It didn't look like an upturned hoof as I reached it, but I was able to process enough watery juice out of the cactus to quench my thirst, and half-fill a canteen besides. I spent a few minutes at the cactus, chewing the pulpy flesh into a slime, collecting it in a shallow bowl. Poking and sniffing at it, it seemed promising. I processed one of my remaining cactus paddles, mashing it up into a goopy mess as best I could, and mixed it in with the pipe cactus. The resultant goop was pleasant smelling, if a bit strong. Blinky sniffed at the bowl and sneezed, before grumbling his way to the shadow provided by my haunches and curling up.

I worked the cactus matter into a thinnish paste, light green and fragrant. The resultant goo smelled good, clean and sharp, and folded good around a hooftip. VERY promising. An empty syringe provided a place to store the sample, and with a shrug, I licked the bowl clean, and stashed it in a saddlebag. Back on the road – South-East and trotting, making tracks up and down the endless small hills. Cresting another of the proud little hummocks, a glint of silver caught my eye, off to the right, and ahead. With a mental shrug, I adjusted my course and slowed my approach. The deviation put me off the direct course to the water feature on my mapper, but that wasn't a terribly big deal, all things considered. The shiny disappeared as I dropped into the next valley, and showed itself again as I mounted the next hill. Closer in, the glint now resolved itself into a roof, standing slightly proud of a hill. The next hill revealed it to be corrugated, and I slowed even further, getting into a walk while I was still two hills away. I approached closer and closer, my senses at full alert. The corrugated roof ended up being a simple sheet of tin, nailed up on tired old grey boards, partially sunken into the hillside. The lean-to couldn't even support the title of 'shack', with no walls but the hillside, and that scraped back into a shallow cave. A filthy mattress, caked in old dirt and stains, lay inside the area defined by the roof supports. Makeshift shelving held a trio of old-style ammo cans, dark green and unremarkable, and the pink and yellow square of a first-aid kit.

Sprawled across the mattress was the remains of a pony, long since turned to jerky and rags by the heat and dryness of this desert area. His skeletonized, outstretched hoof lay on top of a ragged book. Scraps of cloth and a worn hat were all that remained of his clothing. After my initial examination of the lean-to, I made a quick circuit of the hill it was set into the side of, alert for any interlopers or attackers. Paranoia didn't pay off today, there was no one coming, or even visible. I returned to the dead pony, kneeling slowly next to his book and his body. I gently pulled the book out from under the dead weight of his forehoof, and flipped it open.

Dear Diary.

Day one of my assignment to the Inland Sea. Here, for the glory of Equestria and the war

effort, I'll be working with a picked crew to improve the efficiency of the desalinization

plant. Fresh, drinkable water is precious, since the war is on. Normal civilian usage has

skyrocketed, factories and production lines spinning away into the night. I keep telling

myself that this is an important position, that I'm really helping, but it still feels like an

exile, here across the mountains and far away from anything I've known.

I'll try and keep this up. Mom says that I should track my thoughts and feelings, since I'm

going to be so far away from home. We'll see. So far, I just feel exiled.

Day Two of my exile sucks – there's no way to put it easily. The desalinization plant is junk.

Robronco gear doesn't want to interface with the Stable-Tec infrastructure, and the massive

freaking turbines don't even have manufacturers marks on them, and they don't want to

interface with anything. Step one is going to be rebuilding every sensor run in the entire

Celestia-scorched facility.

Buck my life.

Day ten. This has been the single busiest week of my life. This is the first time I've been able

to stand still long enough to write. Mom has no bucking clue how bad we are fucked. We've

re-built every sensor run in this place, every control lead, and finally got the damn turbines

spinning.

AND THE BUCKING THINGS ARENT PLUMBED INTO ANYTHING.

The main inputs and outputs terminate three sub-levels down, in locked, shielded, barred,

ARMORED BUCKING EMPTY ROOMS. Celestia fuck me with a pure horn of fire, What

were these shit-sucking son-

What's that noise?

Day Fuck. Colossal explosions over the mountains. Lots of them. Mom's dead. Mom lived

in Canterlot. Canterlot's got to be gone. Zebras. What..  what now?

The only thing left to do is survive. The rest of the staff and techs are headed inland, going

to cross back over the mountains and try and get to mainland Equestria. I'm...  I'm staying

here. Everypony's dead. There's no way anyone could have survived it. I don't even know

what 'it' was. Zebras, probably. We were at war, after all. Water's receding. I'm running for

high ground, bringing some gear and some supplies. And some weapons.

Day Fuck +1.

Nopony is safe now. Not with huge bombs, not with crazy ponies with guns roaming around.

The water did come back, like I'd thought, but not as a tsunami, just as a corrupted tidal

wave of death. The few techs who had stayed behind didn't make it. I heard their screams as

they burned.

Day Fuck +7, me, you, and a dog named Sue.

Everything is blue in this world. So much blood, for such a tiny little hole. He thought he

was a big stallion, going to take my stuff. Thought wrong. Took his gun. Took his life.

One easy shot.

I'm going to bury him by the facility. Then I think I'm going to lay down and die.

The diary ended there. Not very many pages filled, and difficult to read in the early evening sun. But enough was left to follow along. It looked like this poor buck had seen the End, the genesis of the Wasteland we all suffered in. He hadn't dealt well. 200 years later, we were better prepared mentally, but physically, we still lived a risky existence.

The lowering sun spurred me back into action. I shucked Blinky off and tucked him into the hollow that made up the back wall of the shack, then carefully drug the desiccated corpse of the poor technician out, and buried it as best I could. The sandy soil made digging easy enough, and it was only a short time until I got the body underground. Nothing was handy for a memorial, and after 200 years, I didn't have a clue what to put on one. The mattress was stained, and dirty, but it was old and better than dirt. Dinner was cold, greens, field salad, and one of the cactus flower, which had a crisp, almost minty taste, even after days in a saddlebag.

A breeze, salt-smelling and cool, blew up from the lake. Blinky, relocated from his earthen couch, tucked in behind my forelegs like a lump of sleep, warm and sweet smelling. I fell asleep as the sun pulled itself below the horizon, pondering on the difference 200 years had made in ponies, and in the world.

Footnote: Level Up! Skill upgrade – Melee +10 (43), Survival +5 (34)

Companion Perk: Sneak Attack. Molerats are the lowest form of wildlife in the Wasteland, and most ponies will ignore them as no threat. Blinky can prove them wrong, often in extremely uncomfortable ways. Provides one free bite attack per combat.

Level Perk: Animal Friend. Animals will not attack you, unless the animal is threatened or attacked first. Insects such as Mutant Ants and Radroaches are not affected by this perk, nor are rabid or crazed animals.

Trivia:

Trivia: The character 'Egg Forbreakfast', our protagonist's father, was directly inspired by the libertarian comedy stylings of 'Burgers Allday', a frequent commenter on theagitator.com

Chapter Three: The Rain is a Pain, it falls Mainly on my Mane

Author's Note: This chapter benefited from the twin spurs of shame and sleep deprivation – it's tough to keep up with mutant text-producing abominations like Volrathxp. My thanks still go out to my pre-reader, Arcane_Scroll, who saves me from my comma abuse.

I woke up cold. The evening breeze had been to the south, and had been little more than a distraction thanks to the protection by the bulk of the hill. The morning brought reversal of the wind, carrying a chill and a salt smell off of the water. The cold had soaked through my armor, damp from the dew, and I was not having a good start to the day. I managed to get myself to my feet, cursing the cold and the wet. Blinky was still in his normal comatose state, and didn't react except to grunt and cuddle in closer when I moved him up onto my shoulders.

I picked up the unnamed pony's hat. It was faded and worn, but it was still a hat, and it fit well enough. Screwing the fedora onto my head, I nosed around the shanty for anything I had missed or neglected the night before. The back of the shanty held nothing of interest, nor did the side. The remaining side of the three-walled structure held the ammo cans I had noticed on the way in, and first aid kit. Grumbling at the uncomfortable feeling of the wet leather, I turned to the ammo boxes. The first one was unlocked, and had a handful of smallish bullets in it. I tucked the stubby brass into  a saddlebag, on the theory that someone might want it enough to trade for it. The second ammo can was locked. I pulled a screwdriver and a bobby pin out, and did my best, but couldn't get the lock open. I moved on to the first aid kit, and it was locked, as well.

I bit down on my rising irritation, and the screwdriver, and concentrated on the bobby pin. I had never had much training in picking locks, and little opportunity to use the skill I had. The bobby pin rolled off to the left, slowly and carefully. Ears forward, I listened to the tiny sounds coming from the 200 year old lock. Finding a pin I felt confident in, I slowly rotated my head to the left. Awkwardly, I craned my neck around nearly a full circle, and when the lock clicked open, I dropped  hat, screwdriver and bobby pin, and fell over in surprise. Righting myself, I took a second to nuzzle Blinky, who was complaining about the trip to the dirt. Once he calmed down, I replaced my dapper new hat, and opened the first aid kit. With a smile, I snatched out the magical bandages, still sealed in their original plastic. Into the saddlebags with them, and with the two syringes of Med-X that were all this kit had in it.

Back on my feet, I stretched again, working the weirdness from cranking my neck over out of my system, cursing my damp leather armor. I fired up the mapping assistant, orienting myself back towards the lake, which was almost directly South now. I took one last glance around the lean to, delivered a sharp kick to the ammo can that had resisted my lockpicking attempts, made a final adjustment of my nice new hat, and set off. Blinky spat and muttered from my shoulders, grumpy about his rough handling during my lockpicking. I ignored him, tipping my hat to the fallen technician pony, under his mound. He'd faced a terrible time, been witness to the end of Equestria-that-was, and died alone in this desert. I felt pretty good about having gotten him under the dirt, where he belonged. Laying forever in an abandoned shack or food to raiders or animals was something I was probably going to face, some day. But that was me, born in the Wasteland, and part of it. That wasn't the pony I had buried, though. He was part of a softer, better place.

Dark thoughts rolled and boiled through my head, aggravating me as I trod circles inside my mind. The sun hadn't properly come up this morning, hidden behind grey clouds that thickened and filled the sky as I creaked and grumbled my way South along the dunes, my wet armor slowly warming and drying from my exertion.     I kept a wary eye on the clouds, and sure enough, almost as soon as my armor stopped being irritating because it was wet, the rain started. The first fat droplets of rain hit my hat with weird 'paff' noises, and I stopped cold to pull my rain cape out of my saddlebag and toss it over my barrel. Blinky would stay dry, at least. The cape fastened around my neck, and just covered the base of my tail, adding another layer of aggravation to my day as it tugged at both ends.

Aggravating or not, the cape helped protect me against the moderate rain that followed. I trudged across the Wasteland, occasionally pushing into a canter on the downhill slopes, and the Wasteland flattened out. Midmorning, I found a lower than normal low spot, one that had collected a decent puddle in the rain. Fishing one of my empty canteens out from under my rain cape, I filled it and drank. The gritty, earthy-tasting water did nothing to improve my mood, and I grumbled my way onward. The rain increased in force as the day went on, and at noon I stood in what was certainly a downpour, my rain cape and armor soaked through, Blinky the only spot of warmth on my hide. I was starting to pass beyond aggravated and towards concerned. The mapper said I should have reached the 'Inland Sea' already, and there was nothing but the steadily fading hills. Much more of this, and I was going to have to do something about warm and dry, and that promised to be very difficult in the unceasing rain.

I was almost literally blown out of my funk. The crater that appeared in the sand to my left came on the tail of a blast that sounded like thunder, and startled me badly enough that I somersaulted off of the dune and slid down its sandy side in a miniature avalanche. I came to rest on my left side, facing South with a mouthful of sand. I spit sand, and started sorting limbs and leather, when a booming voice interrupted me.

"Stop right the fuck there, fucko! That wasn't a miss, that was a warning shot. Do anything but wave a hoof, and you're a splatter!"

I stopped everything, falling back onto my side. Blinky growled and dug his claws into my shoulders, poking me through my armor. I twitched, and froze, shivering, when a heavy 'KaCHOK' sound came from overhead. I slowly raised my right forehoof, and just as slowly waved it.

"Good boy. Now, roll onto your fucking back and stretch all them legs out." The unknown voice demanded.

"I can't, I'll squish Blinky!" I protested, and another crater blew out of the sand, this time just to the right of my head. I kicked over onto my back, trying to avoid squishing the indignant Blinky, who pierced claws through my armor and what felt like several inches of meat. "Owwww, FUCK!"

"Alright, just sit tight and someone will be out to see to you." Demanding Voice said, and I heard rattling clanks and a creaking squeal of a door opening. Hoofsteps thudded across the sand, and shortly someone came into view, a heavy figure swathed in a hooded rain cape, black and shiny in the pouring rain.

"Huh. You don't look much like a raider, son." The shrouded figure said in a gravelly tone.

"I'm not. I'm fucking –OW- hurting here, though!" I replied. "Blinky's trying to dig his way out of my fucking chest, the long way!"

The figure snorted, and backed away a step. A gun of some sort floated around in a green magic field, pointed at my head. "That Blinky thing under your rain cape?" he asked, gruffly but not impatiently.

"Yeah. He's kinda my pet."

"Tell you what. Unhook that rain cape and roll out of it. Don't make any sudden moves, or Mabel here will ruin your whole fuckin' day. OK?"

"Yea- Yes." I sputtered, and slowly reached up with a forehoof. The latch of my rain cape popped open obediently, and the strap fell loose. Moving slowly and smoothly, eyes on the looming prescence in the grey rain, I opened my legs as wide as I could, and twisted myself over. I ended up kneeling, facing the unicorn in the rain cape, soaking in my already wet armor. Blinky, unsquished and furious, pulled his claws out of my shoulders and swarmed up my neck, chittering a molerat war cry. His rear claws dug into the back of my head as he launched himself at our captor, and the unicorn shied away and caught the poor molerat in another magic field. His gun never so much as wavered.

"Ha- heheheh! Is that Blinky?" The unicorn asked, laughing. I nodded assent, and stayed kneeling and quiet. The unicorn floated Blinky towards him, Blinky gnashing his oversized teeth and flailing all four stubby clawed feet. The unicorn laughed again, and then swung Blinky back towards me. Blinky hit ground close enough that his thrashing rear feet kicked sand into my face as he touched down. Squinting my eyes against the grit, I snaked my head forward and caught the pissy molerat by the nape of his neck. As I gripped him, the magic field faded, and I tucked Blinky between my forelegs, keeping a firm grip on his wet hide. "OK, son, I'm gonna take that oversized toothpick off your armor. You'll get it back, don't worry."

I nodded again, my mouth full of molerat hide, and Stickbird slid out of its strap in the unicorn's magic field. The unicorn examined it as well, before moving it well away from us both. "You can stand up now, son. Just take it slow and easy."

I followed direction, as smoothly and slowly as I could. As I got my hooves under me, the unicorn pulled his gun back, though it never wavered away from pointing at my head. The unicorn considered me for a few long seconds, then nodded. "You gonna have to put that little ball of angry down if you wanna talk, boy. You think he'll stay put?"

I nodded, then made a short gesture towards my shoulder, Blinky swinging like a bag of sausages in my mouthgrip. "We'll see. Turn to the side, here, and take it slow. Slow is the good word today, understand?"

I nodded again, and turned to put my side to the unicorn. Blinky had stopped thrashing and growling, and had subsided back to a more normal grumbling. When I – slowly – put him on my back, as far forward as I could manage, he nipped me once, right through my armor, and subsided in his normal spot on my shoulders. Mouth free, I carefully looked at the unicorn, very aware of the gun still pointed at my head. "Thanks.. I think."

"You're welcome, son. And I think you actually might be. You got a name?" The unicorn asked.

"I'm Wicked Cut. I'm not a raider, I'm a tribal." I said, trying to keep my voice level.

"And what's the difference, exactly?" The unicorn responded in his gruff voice.

"I don't eat ponies, and I only kill them if I have to." I replied, my voice staying level easier now. This was one of the things we had talked about a lot, back home. I had a sudden shock of homesickness, and combined with the rain, that was enough to start me shivering.

"Fair enough, boy. Let's get you and your Blinky in out of the rain before you catch your death. I'm Four-claw. Go on ahead, now."

Four-claw stepped aside, his gun moving smoothly and easily in his telekinetic field. He picked up my rain cape and hat in other fields, and gestured smoothly southwards. I started out ahead of him, my shivering making my soaking armor even more uncomfortable, and it was just a few steps before a wall loomed out of the rain, a pony-sized door open in the side of it. I walked through the door, Four-claw behind me, and stepped between an earth pony and a griffin. The earth pony managed to grin around the fire axe clenched in her jaws, and the griffin twitched a nod in greeting, holding a massive rifle easily in his claws. Four-claw nudged me as he came through the door, and I continued forward, eyeing the place I had found myself. The wall continued to either side, further in either direction than I could see in the heavy rainfall. A platform ran along the inside of the wall, allowing somepony on it to see over the wall and shoot, if needed. Directly over the door stood another griffin, this one in flat black combat armor and carrying another massive rifle.

This griffin launched off the platform and landed in front of me, slinging the rifle with the ease of experience. Drawn back to the center of the compound, I saw a squat, massive building, standing square in the distance. Rain reduced visibility to blobs, and there were two large ones off to the left of the building, hulking round in the grey.

"Welcome to Saltfort, youngster. Four-claw let you live, so you aren't a raider or nutjob. What's your name?" The griffin, who was the Demanding Voice putting craters next to my head from earlier, asked.

"I'm W-ww-wicked Cut, and I think I'm f-freezing to death here." I ventured, and the griffin laughed and gestured with a broad sweep of his wing.

"Take him inside, Four-claw, we'll send Knock-knock out for the next one." The griffin's broad grin didn't change as he winked at me, and Four-claw nickered laughter behind me as he squished my sodden hat on my head and ushered me towards the bulk of the central building.

Whatever sort of people these were, they at least seemed happy, if a bit trigger-happy. Four-claw guided me to the front door of the building, which seemed almost fortified – the doors were thick, and only had tiny windows in them. A dark green earth pony mare opened the door from inside. This allowed me into a small square entryway. The mare caught my eye - her colorful coat was almost completely hidden by the same style of black combat armor Demanding Voice had been wearing, and like Demanding Voice, she had no head covering. I couldn't help but wince at the sight of her mane, which had been cut short, almost to a fuzz of lighter green.

"What?" she said, raising an eyebrow at my reaction.

"It's just…  your mane!" I said, and the mare's jaw dropped.

"Soaked to the skin and shot at, and you're worried about my mane?" She said, surprise on her face. Looking past me, she eyed Four-claw, who shrugged. "You're a weird one." She stated, turning from me to open the inner door. I looked to Four-claw myself for guidance, but he just repeated his earlier shrug, and gestured towards the door.

Obediently, I trotted through this door, which was just as thick as the outer door. Sockets on the top and bottom of the frame looked like nothing other than a bank vault we had found in Our Tacksworn. The inner room that this door led into was dry, relatively clean, and dominated by the long desk thalt spanned the far wall. Doors in each wall hinted at the rest of the building. Another griffin sat behind the long desk, his sooty grey feathers shined by the glow from a working terminal. The overhead lighting was inconsistent, many of the panels dark or missing, but what panels remained glowed steadily, giving the room a much brighter light than the rainy gloom outside.

As soon as we were both in, Four-claw nudged me on the shoulder and waved at the griffin. "Hey, Grimfeathers. Pull your head out of the past and get this kid dried off and fed while I go talk to the boss. Find out what he wants, you know."  He said, then turned to me. "I'm gonna go put your weapon in the armory. You can have it back whenever you decide to leave, OK?" He asked. I thought about it quickly, and didn't like the idea.

"Alright. Thank you, Four-claw." I replied, not seeing any way around it. Four-claw thumped me reassuringly on the shoulder and moseyed off through a door to the south-east, after dropping my sodden rain cape on a bench. The griffin behind the counter sighed, and I walked up to the worn wood structure.

"Lemme guess, kid. You're some sort of wasteland hero, looking to set things right." The griffin said, eyeballing me. I shrugged, eyeing him right back.

"Right now, I'm just a soaking wet tribal dude looking to dry off, actually. I can save the Wasteland tomorrow." I shot back, winking at the griffin, who laughed.

"You're alright, kid. I'm Engineer Grimfeathers, sent to this slab of rock to help the eggheads figure it out. What are you?"

"I'm Wicked Cut, and I was kicked out of my tribe's hometown to figure out how to make the jump from Tribal to Villager." I replied immediately, and Engineer's beak gaped in a griffin laugh. We shared grins for a moment, before the raggedy griffin rose to his feet, coming out from behind the long desk. Moving, he had none of the grace or predatory swagger of the griffins in stories. Instead, he gave the impression of falling over and catching himself, especially when his left hindleg would hit the ground.

The reason for his awkwardness became apparent when he rounded the corner of the long desk. His left hindleg terminated in a wooden stump affair, with a leather stub on the end of it. It didn't seem to slow him down, terribly, and he lead the way to the two doors on the east side of the room. Pushing open the one closest to the door I had entered by, he waved me in. The restroom was clean and empty, two of the stalls repaired, the only sink present intact, and the normal complement of rubbage and rubble missing. Engineer followed me in, and worked the taps on the remaining sink.

"Hot water, even. Floor drain works good, too." Engineer burbled, happily showing off this amazing rarity. I stood astonished, my jaw hanging open, as steam started to roll up from the basin of hot water, Blinky stood on my shoulder, looking past my head and wrinkling his nose at the oddness. Engineer laughed as I started frantically stripping out of my armor, moving to a cabinet I hadn't noticed, tucked in behind the swing of the door. As I swung my hat onto the pile of armor, Engineer returned with a sponge, which he tossed in the sink, and a big fluffy towel, which he hung on the wall of one of the stalls.

"I..  I just..  wow!" I managed to sputter out, switching my stunned gaze between the clean towel and the sink, now full of steaming water. Engineer laughed as he stepped around me to shut the hot tap off.

"This has been a hell of a contract, kid, but it does have its perks. Wash off and scrub up real good, we've got tons of hot water. Make sure it all goes down the drain. Come see me once you're cleaned up." Engineer explained, then left me in the worn, but clean, confines of the bathroom. I proceeded to put deed to word, rinsing all of my canteens and scrubbing everything as best I could. The sponge was worn, but in good shape, and it was still clean enough when I finished working on my gear that I had no problem with the idea of using it on myself.

I checked the temperature of the water in the sink, which was pleasantly warm now, and grabbed Blinky. Blinky, who had been very interested in the bizarre activities going on in this strange place, did not like the idea of his molerat posterior being dunked in the sink, and made his displeasure known with spits and snarls. His complaining availed him nothing, though, and in he went.

The screaming fury of an enraged molerat is pretty high on the 'loud' scale. It didn't compare to gunfire, but it carried. I was holding Blinky down with one forehoof, scrubbing with the other, and the water in the sink was running tan with dirt, when Engineer stuck his head back in the door, his eyes going wide as he took in the scene. Without a word, he closed the door again.

Blinky squalled and fought through his entire bath, but was pink and clean when I was done. He smelled good, fresh and only a tiny bit ratty. I almost pranced over to the pile of cleaned armor, and plopped him on top of it. Giving his considered molerat opinion, Blinky hissed in my face, curled up on the armor, and farted, before beginning the long process of washing himself with molerat spit.

Laughing, I returned to the sink, drained and refilled it, and started sluicing myself clean. The hot water kept coming, and I put serious mileage on the sponge. Hot water was uncommon. Pots big enough to heat enough water to make a difference were rare, and it wasn't often that the effort needed to put together a hot bath couldn't be spent on more useful or immediate things. I scrubbed and scrubbed, dirt and dried blood, grease and ground in sweat swirling off my hide and into the floor drain. I tilted my face up into the sponge, hot water rolling past my closed eyes like liquid pleasure. The sink kept providing hot water, and I kept using it. My mane ran with dirt, brown streaming off my dripping hair. The bite on my leg had almost completely healed, only a pair of red marks remaining after I peeled the bandage off and gingerly scrubbed the area.

I was amazingly clean and felt better than I had since I left home. Considering my mane in the cracked-but-usable mirror, I returned to my saddlebags, displacing the sleeping and shiny molerat, and pulled out the syringe of mixed cactus goop I had created. I squirted a small amount onto a hoof and sniffed at it. It had retained the pleasant, almost minty odor it had when I first made it, which was a good sign. The creamy texture had remained as well, which was key. With a shrug, I wetted my hair with a fresh hot sponge, and rubbed the entire contents of the syringe into my mane. It foamed up!

The foam wasn't terribly thick, or incredibly consistent, but as I scrubbed my mane clean, I could feel it working. Soap, as such, was an incredible rarity, precious when it could be found. Even the harsh Abraxo cleaner was prized, and this stuff didn't burn when it didn't get rinsed off immediately. I scrubbed vigorously at my scalp, working my way across my entire hairline, the thin lather rolling down forelegs and hair. I dunked my head completely into the sink afterwards, rinsing and throwing water everywhere. I began stripping the water from my mane while the sink refilled, marveling at how even this primitive soap improved the feel of the individual hairs. I rinsed twice more before the last of the soap washed out, and couldn't stop myself from shaking.

The animalistic pleasure of a good shake is not something to be discounted. I finished the simple, energetic procedure centered between all four hooves, almost gripping the tile floor. I tossed my head back and pranced back to my saddlebags, extracting one of the few 'nonessential' items I had brought from home. The hoofbrush slid into place on a forehoof, and I brushed my mane out. This was, in its own way, as pleasurable as washing my mane was. I cranked my head over to one side, stretching out the neck tendons as much as I could, so my mane hung down, and brushed that side, then flipped my head over to do the reverse. I was a few strokes into this side when the door opened again. Fortunately, I was already facing the door, so I saw the green earth pony from the door stick her head in. I waved with my brush-encumbered hoof, and the mare's eyes went wide.

"That's..  wow. OK, I kinda see what you were saying earlier." The mare said, trotting over to the towel hanging on one of the stall walls. "Bossman says you need to get fed and briefed…  he's got an offer for you."  She then tossed the towel at me, a high arc that I was able to catch without the towel hitting the wet tiles. I shook off the hoofbrush, tossing it onto the pile of armor and saddlebags, and began drying my mane. Once I had the long flamelike sweep of my mane acceptable, I began working the towel around my barrel and shoulders. The mare stepped forward to help, which made things a lot easier, and I noticed her eyes straying to my mane, which I flipped across my neck, whipping her nose with the wet strands. She jumped back with a snort, and we both broke into laughter.  After I was dry enough, the mare took the towel from me and hooked it back on the stall wall, while I slid my hoofbrush back on and threw a quick swipe at my mane. I stuffed the brush back into a saddlebag and latched it, shooting a glance at the patiently waiting mare with her stubbly mane.

"So what's your name, anyway?" I asked, as I started shuffling my armor into carrying mode – basically two heavy leather bags that would sit forward of my saddlebags.

"I'm Main Spring. I help keep the various shooting irons working, and help out with the soldierey stuff." The mare answered brightly. I clipped a strap closed and slung the converted armor up onto my back. My saddlebags were occupied at the moment, so I smiled at Main Spring.

"Well, I'm Wicked Cut. My tribe kicked me out so I could go learn something, help us grow into a village. Pleased to meet you!" I shook hooves with the green mare, then nudged Blinky with a forehoof. Blinking, the molerat uncurled from his nap on my saddlebags and eyeballed me. I pointed a hoof at him, then swung it to point at Main Spring. "Blinky, meet Main Spring. She's nice, even if she abuses her hair. Main Spring, this is Blinky. He puts up with me and bites."

Blinky rose up on his hind legs and sniffed delicately at Main Spring's hoof, getting a giggle for his efforts. I picked up the saddlebags he had abandoned, slinging them  onto my back. I clicked my tounge at Blinky, and he dropped back from the petting he was receiving from Main Spring. I picked him up and set him on his normal spot, where he curled up and went back to sleep. Favoring Main Spring with a smile, I nodded at the door.

"Shall we?" I asked. Smiling back, she led the way. The room I had come from was more populated now, with Demanding Voice chatting idly with Engineer and an unfamiliar unicorn. This massive beast looked more like some sort of architectural feature than a pony. Some sort of bridge abutment or pillar. His brown mane was shaved short on the sides, and stuck up in a well kept brush on top. He was gesturing when I walked out, and his hoof hitting the ground, even in idle conversation, thumped hard enough that I could feel it through the floor. My eyebrows shot up at the sight – this had to be the biggest pony I'd ever seen. He looked like he could overtop Deerjohn for height, and had a lot of pounds on the leggy deer.

Engineer noticed us coming out of the bathroom, and alerted the other two with discreet nudges. Demanding Voice grinned toothily at me, and the slab of unicorn next to him eyed me, taking me in in a glance. With a friendly clop on the shoulder and a nod of his head, the huge unicorn sent Demanding Voice on his way. Demanding nodded at me on his way out the front door, and I nodded back. Walking up to the imposing slab of muscle, I stood in front of him and saluted sloppily. The unicorn laughed, and reached out a hoof. His hoofshake was strong, but controlled. None of the pushing strength displays I'd seen from younger ponies.

"They tell me your name is Wicked Cut, the messiah of the Wasteland. I'm Brick Wall, the leader of the Talon mercenary group assigned to this expedition. I think you can help us, Lightbringer."

My shock must have shown on my face, since Brick Wall broke into a grin that looked like a fence made of yellow tombstones. Engineer fell off his bench laughing, pounding on the floor as whooping guffaws shook his body. I stood in a state of shock, jaw hanging open as Brick and Engineer laughed like madponies. Main Spring trotted past me to smack Brick on the shoulder, cutting his laughter off.

"Come on, Boss, the kid's good people. Why you gotta mess with everyone?"

"Awww, Springy, I didn't mean no harm. Besides, it seems like every other bumpkin or vault crawler thinks they're the next Stable Dweller or security mare. Gotta see if the kid's got a head on his shoulders before we try and make use of it." Brick explained, giving me time to put my head back together, and for Engineer to drag himself back onto his seat.

"You are such a tool, Brick." Main Spring retorted, trotting past our little conversational group to one of the doors I hadn't been through yet. "Just tell the guy" She shot over her shoulder as she nudged the door open and walked through.

"Tell me what?" I asked, trying to regain my composure.

"Well, I wasn't precisely kidding about needing your help. The Talons here are damn good fighters, but we're almost exclusively ranged specialists. There's a vault tucked under this place, and I could use a decent melee fighter to back up the shooters when we go in."

"And I just happened to be handy."

"And you just happened to be handy." Brick agreed, another grin flashing onto his broad face. "You've also reacted appropriately to our little greeting outside the wall, and have treated me and mine with respect. I wouldn't hesitate to recruit you into the Talons, actually. But I think you'll be a big help when we go downstairs, Talon or not."

"Besides, you know what to do with hot water, unlike about half of these stinky bastards" Engineer added, sniffing approvingly. "If we can pull this off, the Eggheads will have a field day with the equipment, and we get first crack at the salvage. You want in?"

I stopped to think it over, rubbing my jaw in thought. Brick clopped me on the shoulder, again a well-measured gesture, not the punishing blow someone less aware of their strength would have delivered. "Let's get you fed while you think, kid. We've got plenty of chow in this shack, at least."

I nodded at that – it had been a long cold day, and after that bath, a meal would be heaven itself. Brick waved at Engineer and headed around the desk. The griffin threw a casual salute, and left his seat, joining me on the far side of the desk. Engineer guided me through the same door Main Spring had used. On the other side of that door, there was a large hallway running to the left and around the corner, and a stairway up on the right. Engineer went straight up the stairway, which wrapped around further right, and opened into a large room filled with ponies and griffins.

The murmur of conversation in the room died as I went in, and I had plenty of time to note the benches and tables, tough simple constructions of wood and scrap, and the long counter at the far end of the room, echoing the layout of the room below. Dishes and utensils decorated the tables, Griffins and ponies both eating from bowls of soup, griffins with meat alongside their bowls, ponies with piles of hay. Licking my lips, I shot a glance at Engineer, who gave me a griffin grin.

"Head on up to the counter, let's grab some chow."

I put deed to word, and approached the counter. Another griffin was behind it, an apron and a squashy white hat on her head, idly twirling a ladle and staring into space. Engineer swatted a talon on a bell sitting on the counter's surface, and the countergriffin neatly fumbled a catch, dropping her ladle with a crash. Engineer's smile was as big as I'd ever seen it, the tiny feathers around his eyes crinkled by the force of his amusement. With a snarl and a rude gesture, she dived under her side of the counter after the ladle. Having retrieved her utensil, the griffiness brandished it at Engineer like a war club. "Egglebert, you bastard!" she screeched, waving the ladle threateningly. "No fucking eggs for you, you reprobate!"

Engineer (Egglebert?) was busy laughing his head off, so I slid past him to approach the counter. The furious griffin held her glare on my grey guide for a long moment, before transferring it to me. Nervously, I smiled, and waved.

"Hi!" I said brightly. Apparently, this was the last straw. I could see the pupils in her eyes contract into pinpricks, and I could hear the scraping of feline claws on the tile floor. Crouching, she quivered just long enough for my own eyes to open wide, then she was in the air lunging over the counter at me. I threw myself backwards and to the side, but not nearly fast enough to avoid her outstretched talons. Fortunately for my continued good health, she ran into the massive shoulder of Brick Wall, and crumpled on him like he was his namesake.

Brick, calm and unruffled, stood between me and the griffin, who was back on her feet, her tail lashing behind her, but her posture subdued, almost crouching over her forelegs. Ignoring the griffin, Brick helped me get back to my feet. "You OK there, boy?" Brick asked in his surprisingly pleasant voice.

"Yeah. If you hadn't shown up, though, I don't know what would have happened." I replied, stretching the foreleg I had landed on, jumping out of the way. I craned around and checked Blinky, who hadn't even bothered waking up, his claws hooked into the straps of my bundled armor. Brick nodded once, then turned back to the agitated griffiness.

"Hellen. Get topside, run a patrol. Don't come down until you can think again." Brick commanded brusquely. Hellen gaped her beak in a snarl, crouching further as if to pounce at Brick, then flashed past him in a scrape of claws on tile, and was gone. Brick shook his head, then nodded at one of the other griffins, who jumped to his feet and hustled to Hellen's recently abandoned spot behind the counter.

"What can I get you guys – we got fried hay, fried eggs, hay fries, some fresh cattails, even a little bit of grass. We've got some pre-war apples, sugar bombs, even some potatoes!" The light brown griffin was cheerful and good natured, pointing out the various items as he named them. I nodded my way along, pointing out some fried eggs and cattails. I held onto my plate as Engineer moved past the vegetables, picking out some fried tunnel rat and a brahmin steak-and-eggs combo for himself. The griffin had moved back to his interrupted meal, so I scooped some of the brahmin steak-and-eggs onto my plate for myself. Engineer had made it to a table already, so I scooted in next to him, hoisting Blinky onto the table next to my plate. As Blinky dug into some cattail, I snatched up a tunnel rat half and started crunching bones. I finished off the last of the tunnel rat, spitting the little claws and legbones back onto my plate, and cleaned my teeth with the tail, preparatory to switching to the eggs.

I noticed that the room had gone silent. Looking up, I saw everyone in the room, pony and griffin alike, staring at me. Picking my teeth with the rat tail, I looked around, meeting their confused gazes.

"What?"

Footnote: Level Progression: 57%, Sorry, maybe next time!

Chapter Four: Claw's Well That Ends Well

I'd like to take a moment to thank Arcane_Scroll, the mad genius responsible for Fallout-Equestria.com, the IRC crew on #Falloutequestria, and specifically Volrathxp - it's his fault this chapter wasn't posted three days ago! All thanks to Kkat, Dan Shive, and Somber.

The shocked reactions of the other people eating in the cafeteria puzzled me – everyone I knew liked a good steak, and fried tunnel rat, while not exactly a delicacy, was a welcome change from the increasingly greasy molerat steaks and preserved bundles of grasses I had brought from home.   In the hush, I looked around, paying attention to the contents of plates. Aside from the four griffins, including the one that had dished chow out for me and Engineer, every pony present had purely vegetarian plates. Engineer was staring at me with his beak gaping open in shock, so I gave him a shrug, cut a chunk of brahmin steak, dipped it in the egg, and slurped it off my fork.

The murmur of conversation picked back up slowly as I worked through the solid meal in front of me. Blinky seemed quite pleased with the cattails, and gnawed his way through almost all of them before passing out face up on the table, his belly distended and round. I was chasing the last legovers of egg around my plate with the last of the cattails when Engineer nudged me. Looking up, I spotted Brick coming in the door from below, a small smile on his face. I waved, and Brick tossed a nod my way. I returned to my plate, and had just slurped down the last of the cattail when Brick sat down across from me and Engineer.

"Looks like we're about ready to go in tomorrow morning. I've talked to the Eggheads, and they'll be ready right after breakfast." Brick announced, drawing attention from everyone in the room. "We're going to be taking the Tribal, Egglebert to keep an eye on him. HQ Squad will be me, Gnash,  Windy, the tribal, and Egglebert. Squad one will be Jimstone, leading Todger and Frybread. Squad two will be Squirt, leading Kettle Bell..  and Burns."

Around the room, ponies and griffins were reacting to the list of names, most of them muttering comments to their neighbors, except for one pony, brown with a spotty dark red mane, who jumped into the air shouting. "Wooohoo!" and hoofing at the air. The dark blue unicorn sitting across the table from him facehoofed, and the burly orange female unicorn patted the blue one on the shoulder, grinning widely. Brick grinned at Engineer, who was just finishing off his own steak, and hoofed me on the shoulder.

"Get some sleep tonight, kid. Tomorrow's going to be fun. Stick with Egglebert, here, and he'll get you dossed down." Brick made to get up, but was interrupted by a dark grey griffin with a shockingly red breast, sliding onto the bench next to him.

"You know I've got your back, boss – but do you think Squirt can keep Burns from turning us all into cinders?" The griffin – Windy, I assumed, asked. Brick settled back onto the bench and snorted a laugh.

"Yeah, Squirt bitches, but he's got Burns on lock. With the kid here, we've got enough close-in fighters that Burns shouldn't need to even fire up his roaster." Brick said, getting back to his hooves. He clapped the griffin across the shoulders. "Introduce yourself to your squaddies. I'm gonna go shake down the armory for some AP ammo for that cannon of yours."

And with that, Brick was gone. I waved at the griffin, who waved a taloned foreleg back at me.

"Well, Brick hasn't fucked up big that I know of, so what the hell." Windy said with a shrug, before reaching across the table. I met her fisted talons with my hoof. "I'm Iron Gale – call me Windy."

"I'm Wicked Cut, my friends call me Wicky. This lump is Blinky." I added, poking the comatose molerat with a hoof. "What sort of cannon do you use? How do you lug a whole cannon with you?" I asked, smiling across the table. Windy stared at me, her beak gaping open. Engineer reached across the table, and gently closed her beak. Shaking her head, Windy shot a look at Engineer.

"Tribals." She said, disbelief etched on her face. "I use a .50 calibre recoil-stabilized anti-material rifle with one of the most advanced pre-war optical targeting systems in existence. I can shoot hairs out of your tail from far enough away that you'd never hear the gun fire." Windy said, shooting a glance at Engineer. "Why the hell are we bringing some ignorant tribal along on this fuckarow?"

Engineer laughed. "Because the kid's got chops. He faced Four-claw on the wall, with backup from the Big Bird, and kept his head. The way he moves, he's a fighter, but he still treats even littles like Main Spring with respect." Engineer bragged. Tapping his beak, he added. "And the first thing he did when he got into the bathroom was to scrub like he needed it."

Windy accepted this with a grunt, considering me evenly. I shrugged under her scrutiny, uncomfortable. Nothing Engineer had said was untrue, but I didn't see what the big deal was. Who didn't like to stay clean? Shaking her head again, the griffin rose to her feet, pushing off of the table. "I'm gonna go talk to the boss about this. I gotta figure out what's going on." Tail swinging lazily behind her, the grey griffin strode out of the room.

"I have to admit, Engineer – I'm curious, too. You guys haven't even seen me fight." I said to the raggedy griffin, who was considering his plate.

"Well, kid, we're Talons. Some of us, like Four-claw, and the griff who had you pinned down outside the gate, know the score. Windy's damn good, a regular Hoof of Celestia, but she's not a fighter..." Engineer trailed off, gazing blindly at the ceiling. Shaking himself out of his fixation, he continued, looking me directly in the eye. "It sounds kinda silly, but she's not truly a Warrior. Brick gets into the whole 'Path of the Warrior' mysticism thing when he's drinking, but there's really something to it." The griffin finished, rising to his feet and grabbing his plate off the table. "I'm not one, but I can certainly see it." he finished, heading back to the food counter.

I pondered that, idly pushing tunnel rat bones around my plate. I didn't consider myself a "Warrior", or even a warrior, for that matter. Warrior mysticism was something that had died away shortly after we had crossed the mountains. There wasn't much call for the 'steel of the brave' when the lion's share of available work was hauling rubble or sweeping. The peculiar and abnormal way the raider plague had affected us didn't leave us with the mindless urge to violence that seemed so common in the Wasteland. With the safe space to breathe that we had found in Our Tacksworn, the warrior cult had just gone away, leaving a handful of brands and pierced ears behind as its only legacy.

I was too young to join the warrior cult before it faded, and what little I'd learned of it was never that attractive. There wasn't any honor in battle – not against the animals and zombie ponies we'd wiped out clearing the town. My battle in the Wasteland, against the three raiders, hadn't been much better. The warrior cultists were all about the glory of steel meeting steel – I didn't see how there was steel against steel in a scrawny pony with a shovel getting his neck broken by a bad landing.

Not much glory, either. Shovel Pony had been malnourished and naked and crazy. Hitty Pony, while not exactly malnourished, wasn't quite right. His bulging muscles hadn't looked healthy. I wasn't a doctor, like Big Bear, but that hadn't been a healthy pony. Shooty Pony was mutch the same – while he hadn't been as scrawny as Shovel Pony, he had had open sores on his legs and flank. How could there be anything good gained from fighting such sick creatures?

I snapped out of my meandering thoughts to see Engineer – Egglebert, I guess, sitting across the table, calm and amused. I smiled back at his surprisingly expressive beaked face, and looked down to see my plate gone. I grinned sheepishly, and Engineer shrugged with a gaped-beak griff grin. "You were thinking hard, didn't see a reason to disturb you." Engineer offered, and climbed off the bench. I snagged Blinky up, and deposited him on my back, drawing a sleepy grunt from the molerat. Waving a loose gesture at the door off to the left of the one we had come in, Engineer led me through new hallway, which led the long way around the cafeteria and kitchen. Making a final turn, the hallway extended on, opening four doors on the right and ending at an elevator.

Engineer sauntered down the hallway, the leather stump of his hindleg thumped on the floor as we made our way down the length of it. The first door had a wing crudely scratched into it, and deep scratches . Engineer pushed the door open, leaving a fresh set of scratches on the edge, and I peeked inside. Two curtained bunk beds on either side of the room had foot lockers at their feet, and another pair of lockers at the end of the room. One set of curtains rattled open, and the black and tan feathers of Hellen stuck through the opening. Her eyes focussed on Engineer, shot over to me, then shrunk to pinpricks. I started backpedalling, but she pulled her head back inside the curtain and slammed it shut. I heard banging and squeaking, and saw the bunkbed shivering, as Engineer shut the door, laughing. We proceeded to the next door, which had a crude claw-sketch of a shoe on it.

Engineer pushed this door open too, and the same layout met my peering eyes. A glow of magic shot one of the curtains open, this time, and an unfamiliar unicorn peered out, his pink mane contrasting nicely with a purple coat. His face twitched in the beginning of a smile, and he waved a short chop before swishing the curtain closed again. The third door was blank, and locked. Engineer tapped it, and said "Armory.", then continued on. The last door was blank as well, and revealed another pair of bunk beds, these empty with the curtains pulled back. Engineer stumped his way into the room, dragging one of the footlockers around to rest on, before waving a wing at the bunks.

"These were setup for the reinforcements, but those guys won't be here for another week or so. You might as well use one."

I decided on the bottom bunk on the right. They all looked the same, barring minor differences in curtain color. The mattresses were surprising, clean and firm. I loaded my armor bundle into the footlocker at the foot of my chosen bunk, and after a moment of consideration, set Blinky down beside it. I left the lid open and came back around to the bunk. Hopping onto it, I rolled around until I had made myself comfortable, ending up kneeling with my chest propped on the provided pillow, which was also clean and firm.

"How'd you guys get all this...  Stuff?" I asked, settling in. Engineer met my question with a quizzical expression, head tilted to focus on me with one eye. "I mean, the mattresses are clean, you have pillows..  pillows!" I expanded, waving a hoof to include the whole building. "Even the walls are clean, and the lights work." I levelled a hoof at Engineer. "Reveal your secrets!"

Engineer laughed, a griffin grin stretching his face. "We got lucky, and we worked. The Talons and the Collegiate have been here for three months, now. With nothing to do but patrol and clean, we've got almost the entire compound like you see it. We got lucky, too – most of the supplies were still sealed in their original shipping crates."

"So, this place was never fully brought online." I mused, clambering off of the bunk bed. "And it isn't a water plant." I stated. "I found a journal just north of here – had some information about this place in it." As I dug through my saddlebags, pulling out the journal from the tiny lean-to. I passed it off to Engineer, and clambered back up on the bunk, stretching out on the almost disturbingly comfortable mattress.

Engineer clicked his beak as he read, swiftly working through the journal while I luxuriated in the comfort of the bunk bed. Finished, he slapped the book shut and jumped to his feet. "I gotta go see Brick. This changes things. Stay here." he blurted, uncharacteristically brusqe, and almost bolted out the door, kicking it closed behind him. I blinked at the door, the drowsy comfort of the like-new mattress chaining me to the bed more effectively than actual chain, and drifted off to sleep, warm, clean, dry, and comfortable. It felt almost sinfully good. As my eyes drifted shut, I heard a grunt and  molerat mutterings from the foot of the bed. I cracked my eyes and stretched a hoof down, scooping Blinky up and tucking him against me. We drifted off to sleep, secure and comfy.

Secure and Comfy went away with a big hurry when I woke up to talons digging into my throat. My eyes flew open and I stared at the pinprick pupils of an infuriated griffin, right in my face. I had apparently rolled onto my back in my sleep, and the light body of the griffin from the food counter had me pinned. I could feel the talons on my throat, but as I awoke further I felt a hot weight on my sheathe, and the pinpricks of claws digging into my belly just ahead of it.

"Good. You're awake. Move, and I'll gut you. Talk, and I'll gut you."

I pissed myself. Lunch had come with a glass of clean water. I had drank my fill during my bath, and I had not had a chance to pee since. The hot urine sprayed under her foot and splattered, the  stink filled the room, and suddenly I didn't have a griffin on top of me.

"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed, thrashing my limbs as I tried to roll off of the bunk bed. It seemed to sum up my thoughts on the whole matter, so I repeated myself as I realized I hadn't got control enough of my sleep-addled body to get around to shutting off my pee stream, and had just splattered urine all over my face. I clamped those muscles down, and made a more organized thrashing of my legs to roll me out of the bunk. I ran out of scream as my hooves touched down on the floor of the room I had been assigned, and I drew a great surge of air into my lungs.

"Raaaaaaagh!" I roared, turning the crouch from my landing into a lunge. I charged the door of the room, which was hanging open, and banked around into a sprint down the hallway. Hellen's dark brown tailfeathers flashed out of sight around the corner at the end of the hall, and I poured the power on, the flashes of pain from forced shutdown of my pee spurring my anger. The roar of rage I had started out with settled down to angry grunts and the rush of heavy breathing as I rattled down the hallway. I slid around the turn, bouncing off the wall just as Hellen disappeared into a small door on the left. "HELLLEN!" I yelled, lunging forward again and surging through the same door.

Inside the door was the kitchen area, all silvery countertops and cupboards. Hellen waited at the end of the long room, brandishing a pair of knives clenched in her talons. I snatched a knife for myself on the way down the room, and turned my lunge into a rearing tackle. My heavier weight bounced the griffin off the wall and lost her knives for her. I flexed my hindlegs, slamming Hellen into the wall, and stunning her. The pinprick pupils of the griffin were darting from side to side, now, searching for a way out. As I laid the back of the blade against her neck, I heard the distinctive 'ka-chunk' of a shotgun cocking.

Everyone froze. Time itself seemed to stand still, in fact. I had a foreleg across Hellen's feathered chest, and I could feel the quivering heartbeat underneath the feathers.

"Ok, noone move a muscle." The calm voice of Brick rolled through the kitchen. "Wicked, I'm going to take the knife now. You will let go of it." Brick continued, and as his magic field tugged on the knife, I relaxed my jaw, allowing the handle to slip from my teeth.

"Look at the blade, boss." Engineer's voice said from behind me. I startled, snorting a hot blast of breath into Hellen's face. She flinched back and then lunged forward, snapping at my face. I pushed her away with the foreleg on her chest, bouncing her off the wall again, and the shotgun went off. The sound, in the confined space of the kitchen, was ear-shattering, and I pushed completely away from Hellen, toppling over. Engineer's tattered talons caught me, and the griffin dragged me back away from Hellen. Brick was right in her face now, his shotgun smoking slightly less than a hoof away from Hellen's head. Engineer helped me up to my hooves, and I flopped back down onto my rump, sitting on the hard floor as Brick stared down Hellen.

"Hellen Back. You are going to sit there. You are not going to move. If you move, you will be going back to Shattered Hoof in a bucket. Nod once if you understand." Brick stated, the words falling out like individual stones, thumping into the tense silence. Hellen nodded, a single jerk of her head, down, up. Brick nodded in return, then stepped back, towards me and Engineer. The shotgun never moved as the magic holding it changed color, and I glanced up to see Four-claw standing on the other side of the counter, watching Hellen alertly. A pair of frag grenades lazily circled above his head.

Brick turned to me, then, drawing another shotgun from his barding. Engineer's grip on my upper foreleg tightened as his boss drew near, and I went crosseyed tracking the huge muzzle of the shotgun as it floated up to rest gently against my face, directly between my eyes. "Wicked Cut. Do not move, except to speak. Answer all of my questions truthfully and completely, or you will be executed. Nod once if you understand."

The shotgun floated away from my head, and I nodded once, a short jerk of my face, just like Hellen's. The shotgun stayed right at the tip of my nose, and I couldn't look away from it. The hole in the end of the barrel looked big enough to curl up and die in. Engineer coughed, quietly, and I couldn't help it, I started shaking. It looked like this was going to be the end of me, in some compound on the edge of a salt sea, noone from home ever knowing what had happened to me, and Our Tacksworn failing, rotting away into a raider nest or just fading into nothing.

My dark maundering was interrupted by a shake from Engineer, who had transferred his grip to my shoulder. Blinking, I focussed back on the now, and Brick's voice swam into sensibility in my ears. "-plain exactly what the fuck just happened." He finished.

"I woke up, Brick, and she was on top of me, and had her talons in my throat, and a claw on my belly." I responded quickly, my voice quivering. "I freaked out, and pissed myself. She got off me, and I chased her. We got to the kitchen.. and.. well." I trailed off awkwardly, staring at the shotgun.

Brick grunted. "OK. What were you planning to do to her?"

"I don't know. I didn't want to kill her, I still don't know why she h-hates me. I never even talked to her.!" I blurted out. My shaking was getting worse, and Brick had pulled the shotgun a hoof or two away from my face, though it was still pointed at me.

"He did have the back of the knife on her, not the blade" Engineer pointed out quietly. Brick grunted acknowledgement.

"Was that by accident, boy?" He rumbled.

"No sir." I replied. "I figured it would scare her without risking killing her. I would've stabbed her if it came to that." I said. Brick grunted again, and poked me in the nose with the shotgun.

"You gonna stay put?" He asked.

"Yes sir" I hastened to reply. Brick nodded, turned, and walked back towards Hellen, taking his shotgun with him. My shakes broke, and with a sigh, I slumped in Engineers grasp. Feeling drained, I watched as Brick walked towards Hellen, his shotgun bobbing at his side. As he floated his shotgun up to her face, Four-claw pulled his back and withdrew to block the entries to the kitchen.

"Hellen. You will answer all of my questions truthfully and completely. You will not move except to talk. Nod once if you understand." Brick opened, his voice calm and even. Hellen nodded again, jerky and abrupt, then froze.

"Did you go into Wicked Cut's bunk and put your claws on him as he described?" Brick asked. Hellen twitched, but froze again as the shotgun aimed at her slid forward.

"Yes sir." Hellen got out, her eyes rolling back and forth as she focussed on the shotgun uncomfortably close to her face.

"And did the following events take place as he described?" Brick asked. The evenness and stability of his voice was starting to scare me all on its own.

"Yes sir." Hellen replied. She was actually starting to sweat. Brick blinked, then stepped back.

"Lift the foot you used on his belly." Brick commanded. Hellen lifted her right rear foot, and Brick leaned forward to sniff at it, the shotgun closing in on her eye as he did so. Hellen froze completely, not even breathing. Brick pulled back and eyed Hellen evenly. "Stay." He commanded, and strolled back to me. Reaching out a forehoof, he knocked mine apart. Engineer's claw tightened on my shoulder, but I didn't move a muscle as Brick leaned between my forelegs and sniffed at my underbelly. Pulling away from me, Brick made a face. "Yup, that's the same ponypiss."

With a sigh, Brick returned to Hellen. "Why." was all he said.

I sat transfixed on the floor as Brick loomed over the seated griffin. Hellen had no way to win, no way to possibly fight her way out of this, and she was not happy. Her quivering wings and darting eyes contrasting with the solid calm that Brick exuded. "I asked you a question, Hellen." Hellen spasmed, her wings popping up and forward, her back arching down. Brick's shotgun slammed forward and hit her face, just above the beak, with a boney thump. Hellen collapsed, her wings falling limp and her crouch turning into a loose sprawl on the floor. "No." Brick stated. In a way, his glacial calm was more terrifying to me than any of the times I'd been yelled at, more threatening than any of the times I'd been in a fight.

Once, when I was younger, I had been bitten by a ghoul, bitten badly. The undead pony had scooped a chunk of flesh out of my hide that contained half of my cutie mark. The next week of my life was defined by laying in a bed, bandages and healing powders over my wound. Thanks to Big Bear, my hide had grown back, and as the crater filled in over time, my cutie mark had reappeared. It was like something surfacing from inside me, and the slow progression of it back to 'normal' was terrifying. This was worse, but at least it should be over quicker.

Hellen's beak flopped open and closed a few times, her eyes rolling in her head like they'd been cut loose, before stabilizing. Hellen stayed flattened out on the floor, her eyes locked on the shotgun barrel floating over her head.

"He's going to get Gnash killed. I wasn't even going to hurt him. I was just going to warn him." She ground out, the stillness of terror replacing her earlier quivering. Brick sighed, a short chop of sound. "I know, boss, I know, but he's just..  so.. "

Hellen trailed off, closing her eyes. Brick waited in the silence and the stillness, then stood back, his shotgun holstering itself on the brief harness he wore. "Four-claw."

"Sir?"

"Convert the extra room to a lockdown. Cut a food slot. Put her in, lock her down. Hellen."

"Sir?" Hellen said, relief in her voice.

"Stay in lockdown. Don't cause trouble. You're leaving back to Shattered Hoof as soon as we're all out of the complex downstairs. Engineer will fly back with you as an escort."

"Yessir."

"When he gets there, he's going to report that you are medically unfit for extended duty, and need your implant repaired."

"Yessir."

"Now git."

"Yessir." Hellen replied, then slowly gathered her sprawled limbs under her. Eyes on the floor, the griffin practically crawled after Four-claw, who led her back out of the kitchen the way me and her had originally came. Engineer released his grasp on my shoulder and I slumped, nearly ending up sprawled on the floor myself before I got my hooves under me. I shook and stretched, then looked over to meet Engineer's intent gaze.

Engineer blinked and shrugged, looking away. I straightened to see Brick approaching, the same placid expression on his face. Sitting in front of me and Engineer, Brick sighed, longer and deeper than earlier, and wiped at his face with a forehoof. "I hate drama. I hate stupid youngsters who think the 'no fraternization on mission' rule doesn't apply to them." Brick grumbled. "You OK, kid?"

"Yessir."

"Don't sir me, youngster, I work for a living. Go get cleaned up, get some more sleep. Use the pony bunk, tell 'em I said to take Four-claw's bed."

"Ok, Brick. Thank you."

"Don't thank me kid. I'm just the wing of Justice here." Brick tossed over his shoulder as he walked out of the room. Engineer patted me on the head, and followed.

"Go wash up, kid. Sleep well."

I heaved a sigh and wandered off the other direction, past the counter and down the stairwell I had used earlier that day.

The lobby was dimmer than earlier, most of the lightbars dark. A dim grey glow came in the closed front door, and I heard voices murmuring behind it. Ignoring them for now, I nosed open the bathroom door and proceeded to use the bathroom. Washing afterwards, I heaved a sigh of relief. Four tiny red marks on my belly were all the damage I had taken downstairs, and my throat, while having larger marks and some bruising underneath my coat, had no major injuries either. I dried off with another of the amazingly soft towels, then tossed it in the bin inside the linen closet.

Cleaned and dried, I left the bathroom and moseyed my way back towards the stairs, suddenly tired. The voices from the front door, however, peaked as the door swung open, nearly smacking me in the nose. I stopped the door with a forehoof just short of my nose, and the dark brown form of the cheering unicorn from the cafeteria backed through.

"Look, Springy, I know you want in, I know! But the boss makes these calls, and you know his mind as well as I do – not at all!" The unicorn chattered, before waving. "Now I gotta get sleep – I've gotta be sharp to burninate tomorrow morning." He said, turning to leave. Seeing me peeking around the corner, the unicorn stopped. "Hey kid, you the tribal boss is bringing?"

"Yeah, I'm Wicked Cut." I replied, stepping around the door, which the unicorn knocked completely open with a casual kick. The door stuck open, and I glanced in the entry hallway to see the trim  greenness and fuzzy short mane of Main Spring. Her mane didn't hold my attention this time, instead I found myself fixated on the grim expression on her face.

"You'd better not disappoint Brick tomorrow, 'Wicked Cut'" She said angrily, stomping forward. "That's my slot on the team you're taking, and if you mess it up, I'll be furious!" She finished, thumping a forehoof into my chest.

With a gusty sigh, I plopped to the floor. "Main Spring, you have no idea how tired I am of hearing that. Though I have to give you credit for not trying to rip my belly open." My blunt statement startled the greeny-grey mare, who dropped her forehoof back to the floor, looking closer and seeing the marks on my throat and glancing down at my belly.

"Woah, Springy – someone got a piece of that guy." The dark brown unicorn added. Offering a hoofshake, I met him with one of mine. "I'm Burns, in case you didn't get enough awesome in the chow hall earlier. I'll be burninating things for you tomorrow."

"Wicked Cut, I hit things with a stick, really." I replied. Main Spring leaned in with a forehoof, parting the hairs on my neck. I stretched my head to the side to expose the worst of the bruises, and she jerked her hoof back as if stung. "Hellen thought about the same thing, though she was worried about Gnash." I explained. "I guess you could say..  she had a point." Groans met my pronouncement, and I grinned at the horrified expression on Main Spring's face. "It gets worse. After I woke up to talons around my neck, a couple seconds later I noticed one of her hindpaws set up to claw out my belly..  I guess I just had to notice her claws after my pause."

Burns clamped a forehoof onto his forehead and fell over laughing, while Main Spring glared daggers at me.

"Oh goddess Celestia, save me from funny males." She huffed, and turned, whacking the door with one forehoof. As the door swung to, she sauntered back to her post, hips swaying. As the door closed, I looked over to Burns, who had an eyebrow up and a very interested expression on his face.

"Intreeeee-guing." Burns offered, and I shrugged in response. Burns chuckled and led the way, and we trotted back to the stairs and the horseshoe door. Burns pushed the door open, then looked over his shoulder at me. "Where are you supposed to crash?"

"In there – Four-claw is making a lockup for Hellen, so I'm supposed to take his bunk."

"Huh. You'll have to tell me all about that. You get the top bunk" With that, Burns pushed through the door, snatching a saddlebag off the top bunk with his flickering red-orange magic and sliding the bottom curtain open. "Tomorrow, though – g'night!"

I shook off a sense of stunned weirdness. Between the bizarre day, my interrupted sleep, and the adrenaline rush of the attack, I was wiped out tired and feeling very off kilter. I found myself staring at the foot locker at the base of the bunk. There was something in a footlocker that I needed. It wasn't that foot locker either. At the moment, the thought of not-that-foot-locker was incredibly difficult. I stood, leaning against the doorframe with my knees locked, staring at the footlocker that wasn't the right footlocker. A cough snapped me out of my daze, and I craned my neck around to see Four-claw, my saddlebags, my armor, and Blinky cradeled in his magic.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, I figured you'd need these, and you don't want to go in there." Four-claw replied. I grabbed Blinky, who chittered and grunted.  Four-claw draped my saddlebags across my back, and set the armor bundle ahead of them. "Get some sleep, kid. Tomorrow's gonna be real interesting." He said kindly, and turned back to the far room.

"Thanks, Four-claw. G'night."

With that, I made my way inside. I tossed Blinky up on to the top bunk, and set my bags and bundles on top of the foot locker. I clambered up to the top bunk, and stretched out on the like-new mattress. Of all the things I had found here with the Talons, fresh clean bedding was the best. My throat ached a little, but that wasn't enough to keep me from my interrupted rest. I stretched out and gathered Blinky under my forelegs, and the grumpy molerat nipped me and bitched, before curling up into a ball of hide, and going to sleep. I had just enough time to smile at the wrinkly little critter before the black wing of sleep knocked me over the head and claimed me.

Footnote: Level Progression: 78%. Should have done better on that Nerve challenge, son!

Character Profile: Four-Claw

Four-claw: Male unicorn, 'Pine Green' (almost blue grey-green variant) coat, white mane and tail, blue eyes. Light green magic field.

Four-claw was inducted into the Talons at a young age, and his nickname was derived from his ability to handle four seperate items at once – in combat. Cutie mark is a grasping talon.

Perk: Strong Grip. You cannot knock something out of Four-claw's magic field.

Chapter Five: Early To Rise

I woke to the door being bucked open, bouncing off the wall and nearly off its hinges.. A greyish unicorn dropped his hooves down, and turned, sticking his head into the room. "Lick your balls later, my little ponies! Suit up and get fed, up up up!"

I came out of the top bunk in a tangle of legs and molerat, with the pillow joining the flight on the short trip down. A flickering red-orange magic field caught me and buffered my fall just enough that I landed in embarassment instead of pain. Burns, head sticking through the curtain on the bottom bunk, gave a braying laugh at my situation, before sliding his curtain open and clambering out.

The second bunk in the room yielded a squat pink earth pony, who looked as if somepony had stopped halfway through carving him out of rock. This stubby specimen nudged me to the side and wordlessly made his way out of the room, stopping at his footlocker to grab a bundle similar to my own, before trotting out the door past the impatiently waiting grey-brown unicorn. The curtain on the top bunk slid open to reveal a shaggy earth pony, who looked down at me and grunted, sliding the curtain closed behind his retreating head. I untangled my limbs and got back on my hooves, stretching up to deposit the still-sleeping Blinky and the pillow back on the top bunk.

Burns had gone to the footlockers at the head of the bed and was donning his armor, thin tight fabric armor with a very strange texture. I went to the foot of the bed to get my gear, and as soon as I was out of the way, the yellow earth pony pushed out of the top bunk, landing gracefully and stretching low before joining Burns at the head of the room. I stretched as well, bending my back at hips, lower, shoulders, and upper. I bent my neck around with a couple of low pops, and wide awake, I began the long process of donning my armor.

As I was reaching down between my forelegs, trying to get the long belly strap in my teeth,  Burns' flamey magic aura flickered on my straps, drawing them around the tougher reaches. I snagged the proffered ends and buckled them up, shaking myself to seat the armor correctly.

"Thanks, Burns!" I said brightly. Getting my armor on is always a pain in the butt – sometimes literally. Once, I rolled into a cactus trying to get the long straps ran correctly. The easy triumph brightened my day, and I was feeling good when I tossed my saddlebags onto my back. Burns was the only pony left aside from me in the small room, and he was stretched up to the top bunk, wrinkling his nose at Blinky, who was sniffing enthusiastically at the dark brown unicorn, whiskers twitching. Burns saw that I was ready, and plucked the molerat up in his magic field, cruising him through the air lazily.

I snatched Blinky up and deposited him in his accustomed spot on my shoulders. Burns moseyed past me, and I followed his progression down the hall towards the cafeteria. I had only met the unicorn once last night, and I found him almost fascinating. His movement was loose, almost drunken, but he held a straight line and didn't run into things. The armor I had glanced at earlier looked like some sort of cloth, but it had an almost shiny coating on it, and a full face mask dangling from his side on straps.

I put the questions aside, my stomach letting me know that breakfast was much more important. I passed Burns as soon as we hit the cafeteria, almost cantering in my haste to make it to the food counter. "Ha, relax, kid! There's plenty of chow here!" Burns called out behind me, snickering.

Behind the counter today was a tan earth pony with a dark mane, pinned up and out of the way. It took me a second to make sense of what I was seeing, but she was actually plump, her flanks rounded and smooth, her chest and neck shaped differently from the soft flesh under her hide. She wasn't sickly or unwell, and the strange configuration was quite attractive, if strange in comparison to the wasteland-slender look I had grown up with.

"What can I get for you, sugar?" The delightfully round mare behind the counter asked.

"What's on the menu, gorgeous?" I replied, grinning my best 'cute' look. She laughed and smiled dimples at me, and I beamed.

"We've got eggs, sweet rolls, some haycakes, more than plenty waffles, and some good oatmeal." she said. "The oatmeal's not the best thing going, but I'm sure I can find a sugar lump for you, young man."

I fluttered my eyelashes at her fluttering her eyelashes, which broke us both into hearty laughter. I took a pair of sweet rolls and a bowl of oatmeal, and left with a smile for the buffet line. Cruising down the buffet line, I loaded up on tunnel rat and bacon, adding a high protein, high fat energy spike to the solid food of the oatmeal. My plate didn't draw any stares today, and Engineer joined me with some tunnel rat and bacon of his own. Steaks weren't on the menu this morning, but we made an excellent breakfast out of what was. Blinky put the hurting on an extra serving of waffles, before returning to his normal perch and status, sound asleep and tangled into my armor's straps.

The cafeteria was mostly ponies this time around, with Engineer the only griffin. Finishing the excellent sweet rolls, I felt well fed and content as I gathered up mine and Engineer's plates and brought them back to the shelf dirty dishes were supposed to go to.  I dropped the dishes off and, sated, moseyed slowly back to the bench me and Engineer had taken up. Now that I was paying attention to more than the ultimate importance of breakfast and bacon, I took stock of the ponies here. There were three seperate groups, obvious in that they avoided interaction with anyone not in their group. One group looked older, more mature, while the other two looked younger in comparison. Most of the younger groups looked as if they still had a few years of age on me.

I stopped at one of the younger groups, a mix of earth ponies and unicorns. Conversation and eating stopped, all eyes on me as I approached the table, except for one light grey earth pony who kept chewing, staring through me as if I didn't exist, and a peach unicorn with a vibrant green mane, who stared silently at her plate, concentrating on her food. One of the unicorns glanced around the table at her companions, then heaved a sigh, blinking at me through delicate wireframed eyeglasses. I smiled back, admiring the clean tight lines of the braid her pink-and-purple mane was gathered in.

"You're unfamiliar. Are you with the Talons reinforcements?" She questioned.

"Not exactly. I just came in from the Wasteland, my name's Wicked Cut." I offered, smiling at the other ponies at the table. The light grey earth pony raised an eyebrow, but never slowed in his chewing, only stopping occasionally to swallow and get more food. Next to him, a large tan earth pony with a chocolate fuzz of a mane startled.

"Hey. You're new here." He said, shaking his dark brown mane. "Unadorned leather armor. High energy, but not twitchy. Friendly and polite." He trailed off, peering around at my flanks. "Armor covers cutie mark, but odds are that it's noncombat." Another pause, where he traded looks with the other ponies at the table. The little unicorn with the braid had pulled out a book, and ignored him. The light grey earth pony interrupted his chewing long enough to point at his nose, then at me. "Ah!" he continued, sniffing at my chest. "Soap, clean leather. Salt. Meat." He said, flaring his nostrils and snuffling deeper. I obligingly moved nearer and bent down, pulling my lips back. "Fascinating! Dental hygene, no caries or even plaque stains. Keanno, I believe his teeth may be in better condition than yours!" He declaimed. The pony thus addressed proved to be the light grey one  with the chewing fixation, who stopped his incessant motion long enough to crane over, looking at my teeth. With a disdainful snort and a negative shake of his head he returned to his breakfast.

"You figured me out yet, big guy?" I asked. The tan stallion shook his head, offering a hoof. I met it with a hoofshake, and stepped back. "I'm Wicked Cut-"

"As you said." He interrupted.

"As I said." I continued. "I'm a tribal-"

"Like you said." He interrupted again.

"Cookie!" rebuked a light blue earth pony mare. The bulky tan buck looked abashed, then shrugged at her. With a sigh, she rose to her hooves. "Unlike some of these imbeciles, I have not forgotten my manners. I'm Chalice, the bookworm is Ilushia, the quiet one is Lyrica. The noisy one is Cookie, the Breakfast Pony is Keanno. We're from Trottingham, here to support the Collegiate."

"Trottingham!" I replied. Everypony at the table brightened up and sat a little straighter. Chalice beamed in pride. "Never heard of it." I continued. With a groan, two of the mares faceplanted on the table. Keanno shook his head, not ceasing to chew, and Cookie buried his face in his forehooves. The little grey unicorn with the bright green mane never even twitched, pushing hay fries around on her plate.

Ilushia and Chalice drug themselves out of their facetable moment, and Cookie shook in muffled laughter. I opened my mouth to add something to that blunt statement, but was stopped by a wing draping itself over my shoulders.

"Stop bothering the Trottinghamsters, kid, let's go introduce you to the chief egghead." Engineer said, and escorted me from that table up to one containing an older group of ponies. This table was exclusively unicorns, and I nodded my recognition to Brick as we approached the table. Aside from the short brown brush and red coat of the Talons leader, nopony at the table was familiar to me, and they all looked slender and fragile next to Brick's solidity. "Honored scholars, allow me to introduce the last piece of our little puzzle. This is Wicked Cut, a tribal from a settlement to the north, across the inner desert." he said.

"He's a strong melee fighter, and sensible." Brick said, drawing the attention of the other unicorns. "With him on the initial team, I'm comfortable going in now, so we don't have to wait the additional week for the reinforcement squad to get here from Shattered Hoof. I have my teams picked and my basic plan setup, we'd like to go this morning." Brick's statement drew a sigh of relief from the curly-haired elder pony sitting to his right. That distinguished pony closed his eyes and rubbed at his muzzle with a hoof, not seeming to notice the affectionate nuzzle from the yellow unicorn at his side. On the other side of Brick, a lighter grey unicorn drew a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh.

"Finally! Captain, your recalcitrance in this matter, while understandable, has been most frustrating." he said angrily. "Curled Scroll, are your students ready for this expedition?"

"Calm down, Arcane. We still don't know what's down there, beyond feral ghouls. The initial penetration team is only going to bring two of your group." Brick replied firmly. "And given what I think is down there..  it would perhaps be a good idea if they weren't terribly important." Brick's rumbly voice dropped into a painful silence. Engineer was watching the other ponies at the table, eyes flicking from one face to another. Brick had pushed his plate away, and was splitting his attention between the curly-maned elder and the agressive light grey unicorn sitting on either side of him. He had the undivided attention of everypony at the table now, the elder unicorns, the yellow mare sitting next to the curly-head, and the twin dark brown unicorns, silent up to this point. Without further word, Brick levitated the journal I had found in the desert out of his saddlebag, and laid it on the table.

Silence and stillness reigned for a moment, then the journal shook as four different magic fields grabbed at it. The journal flickered and jumped on the table, then settled as Brick leaned forward and set a hoof on it. With a gesture to Arcane, Brick settled the argument, and the journal snapped off the table and to the grey unicorn. Pages began flipping, and shortly, Arcane closed the journal and passed it to Curled Scroll, who read through it just as fast. The journal made a circuit around the table, and shortly it settled back in front of Brick, who hoofed it across to me. I tucked the slim volume into my saddlebags and turned back to the table. Everyone there was deep in thought, except Brick, who had pulled his plate back towards him, and was busily forking up the last of his hay fries. I sat and busied myself nibbling at an itchy spot on my foreleg, and Engineer did likewise, nipping one of his talons and polishing it against the exposed concrete of the floor.

As he finished his fries, Brick pushed the plate away with a grunt, and peered around the table. The other unicorns were deep in thought. Arcane was idly stroking his chin, Curled Scroll was staring at his hooves resting on the table in front of him. The twin unicorns were staring at each other, which was vaugely disturbing, and the pale yellow unicorn mare was chewing on a pen. The tableau held for a few moments, before Brick cleared his throat. The first to respond was Arcane, the white stripe in his mane swinging as he shook his head. "So..  this wasn't a desalinization plant." he said slowly.

"Indeed." Curled scroll offered. "You knew, Brick?"

"I suspected. This..  compound..  was too fortified, too overbuilt."

"The entry. We thought that was strange for a civilian building." One of the brown unicorns said.

"It does hold together." The yellow unicorn mare said quietly. "If this facility was meant to produce clean water for the war effort – where was the way to get it out?"

"Ah. No pipeline. No loading dock – no access road, for that matter." Arcane said, nodding. "An oversight, no doubt, by the designers of this..  maskirova."

There was much nodding and murmured agreement around the table in response to that statement. "So, what's that tell you about the, ah, compound underneath?" I asked.  Every unicorn at the table turned to look at me.

"Not a damn thing." Arcane said flatly. Curled Scroll nodded agreement, his grey locks bouncing.

"Insufficient data, my boy." He said, turning to Brick. "I think I appreciate your caution even moreso now – we have no way of knowing what's down there."

"I have to admit, the myrmidon is correct." Arcane admitted. "With no foreknowledge of structure or occupants, a group heavy in..  hmmm..  adventureous sorts..  would be advisable."

"Absolutely." Brick said. "I'd prefer none, or one, but two should provide both support and record-keeping"

"I see. Well, from my group, I suggest Lyrical Thesis – that young lady has been haranging our supervisory staff for a field assignment for months, now." Arcane offered with a dismissive gesture.

"And Trottingham will send Chalice, I think." Curled Scroll put in, shooting a look at the yellow mare, who nodded.

"She's quite observant, and follows direction well." She said, to nods from Curled Scroll and the twins.

"That works. I can work with that. OK." Brick said, powering to his hooves. "Engineer. Take the civvies, get them armored. Heavy. The good helmets. Wicked, go with him. If you can find something, upgrade your armor – it's on us." Brick said, striding around the table. As he reached the center of the room, he reared, slamming his forehooves down with a crash. "Talons! Saddle up. You have fifteen, that's one-five minutes for personal prep and readiness. Be outside the armory for weapons issue."

With that, Brick cantered out the smaller door and down the hallway. As the thunder of his hooves moved off, I turned to Engineer, whose face was wrinkled in a griffin grin. "I'm no warrior, kid – but I do love this part." His grin remained as we returned to the younger's table, and with Brick's announcement, all eyes were on him. "Lyrical, Chalice, you two are coming with us. The rest of you get to stay upstairs where it's safe."

"Ok." Was the first word I had heard yet out of the little mare with the green mane. She kept her eyes downcast as she put her plate and utensils in the dirty dishes bin, and trotted back to us. Chalice had already returned her dishes, and sat at the table quivering. Ilushia leaned over and put a comforting hoof on her shoulder, and the light blue mare calmed, her breathing slowing out as Lyrical returned to the table. Engineer lead us out of the cafeteria, past a knot of waiting Talons, and into the armory, unlocking it with a key. The inside of the armory was a paradise of warrior kit. Weapons boxes filled both bottom bunks, and the folded stacks of armor and clothing completely filled the top. Footlockers were racked on rough-built shelf units, four high at the head and foot of each bunk, and Stickbird stood in a corner amongst a stack of other melee weapons.

With a snort, I trotted directly to it. The metal handle was in good shape, and the crowbar was pretty much invincible. I carefully nipped at the wiring, tugging on the fastening system and ensuring everything was still in good order. Happy with the results, I tossed my chosen weapon up, catching it and slinging it into it's holster with a smooth motion. Feeling pleased, I turned back to the rest of the small group. Engineer was struggling with some sort of knit garment, trying to pull it over Lyrical's outstretched forelegs. Chalice stood on her hind legs in front of one of the shelfed footlockers, various plates and straps floating around her on the silvery pink of her magic.

With a despairing cry, Lyrical fell over sideways. I lunged in and was able to catch her, ending up on my haunches with a lap full of tangled unicorn. I bit down on the fabric, and managed to pull the stretchy contraption completely off.

"Thank you." Lyrical said, her quiet voice barely audible, even with her still collapsed in my lap.

"You're welcome. Get yourself stood up and let's try this a different way."

With my and Engineer's help, we were able to pull the stretchy undershirt onto Lyrical's barrel, and then support her while she extracted her forelegs from the fuzzy embrace. Over the doublet, a heavy black nylon vest belted on, and cunning fasteners in the vest allowed us to help attach heavy sleeves for the forelegs, a neck protector, and an extended barrel cover that nearly covered Lyrical to her hips. As each piece of armor went on, the pale yellowish unicorn shook worse. Once he had buttoned the last of the fasteners for the barrel cover, Engineer stepped back and shook his head.

"Have a sit before you fall down, youngster." Engineer said, not unkindly. Lyrical plopped down with a rustle of armor, and before her or me could do anything, Engineer laid a vicious punch square onto her breastbone!

"Hey!" She cried, jumping back from the attack. "What? What!?...  wait, that didn't.. " She startled. Chalice whirled from her consideration of curved armor plating, one of the hard plates surging towards the ceiling. Engineer, for his part, had sunk onto his haunches, and had the offending talon raised and open. I thought I understood what had happened, so I stayed silent, watching the scene with interest.

"Didn't hurt, did it?"

"Well... no."

"Thought not – Talon armor is some of the best there is, outside of the Steel Rangers. You'll be safe, you'll be OK, so long as you don't panic."

"Oh..  OH.  I get it now. Thank you, sir."

"Call me Engy, kiddo."

"Yessir" Lyrical replied. Her apparently normal placid nature was returning, and she obligingly allowed engineer to help her with the crupper, which would protect pretty much everything back of her barrel. He finished the armoring off with a set of absurdly bright green wristbands, and clapped a helmet on her head. The wide opening in the front of the helmet was protected by a cunningly shaped plastic cover, that pulled up and away when not needed.

With the experience gained from Lyrical's armoring, Chalice was buckled and strapped into her black combat armor in short order, and she got a set of painfully bright orange wristbands.

"What are those for, Engineer?" I asked, as Chalice trotted in place and froghopped, pausing to adjust a strap tighter.

"It's so they can be identified quicker. Usually, we'd add a flag or some sort of shiny on the helmet, too, but Brick doesn't think that will be neccesary."

I eyed the two mares, quietly talking and stretching, comparing the fit of the new armored barding. I hadn't added anything to my armor, and was ready to go. It turned out, the black Talon combat armor was heavy enough that it wasn't compatible with the straps or buckles on my armor, and I didn't have pockets to use the 'heavy plates' that would go into the Talon armor.

"Looks like you ponies are all set." Engineer said. "Let's see if Brick's got these jokers ready."

Engineer lead us back into the hallway, and the milling knot of Talons had changed. Most were wearing the same combat armor as the girls now, individualized through shoulder patches and some custom painted logos on helmets. Burns was easy to pick out, strange and faceless in a full coverage outfit, a pair of cans sticking out of his face and some sort of tanks on his back. I shut the door to the armory when I had followed Lyrical and Chalice out and Burns looked over, waving. His motion attracted the notice of a griffin, who worked his way through the clot of Talons to us.

"Come on, out of the way, out of the way. Hey you kids! I'm Gnash. Brick tells me that we're finally going underground today, and I'm going to be your babysitter." The griffin said. "That means that you listen to me. You take orders from me. You ask questions of me. Do what I say, and I will protect you."

"OK, Sir." Chalice said politely. Lyrical said nothing, just nodding and trying to hide behind the other unicorn.

"Not a problem, Gnash." I said. I nudged Lyrical with a hip. "We'll be just fine, won't we?" The little unicorn stumbled, and shot me a nasty look through the clear facebowl of her helmet. I was saved from having to respond by Brick, who had jumped up on top of a footlocker to be seen.

"Alright, children. You're all dressed, you're all armed. Is anyone in need – do any of my Talons need sharpening?" A resounding silence responded. Brick held the silence for a long second, gazing over the assembled Talons. "Good. You've already got your squad assignments. Squad one, you're blue squad for this op. Squad two, you're red squad, and you're first in." Burns shoved through the massed Talons, followed by a stout female unicorn toting a sledgehammer, her helmet painted like a shattered pony skull, and a male unicorn levitating a pair of wicked-looking guns. His helmet had a dark blue stripe down the center of it, but was otherwise unadorned. Brick levitated a key on a chain over his head, and floated it over to the dark blue unicorn, who grabbed hold of it.

"OK, Squirt. This key will unlock the bottom three floors of the elevator. We are on 2 right now, G and B1 are open. Use the key, select B2. Once the elevator is in motion, press 2, and it will automatically return. Leave the key in the lock. Go secure a beachhead, Blue squad will be right behind you."

"Sounds good. Key the lock, hit B2, once we're moving hit 2 so it comes back, leave the key." the dark blue helmed unicorn replied. "Got it"

"OK. GO." Brick intoned, and with a flicker of magic, the elevator door slid open. Burns slid into the elevator, followed closely by the skull head unicorn. The door slid closed and mechanical noises announced the descent of the elevator. Brick turned back to the Talons.

"OK, Jimstone, Blue Squad, as soon as that car comes back, you're in. Same procedure, same orders. Back up Red Squad and clear some room, I'm coming down with HQ squad as soon as the car returns."

"Got it, boss." replied a male unicorn levitating a curious gun with an absolutely huge barrel. "Todger, you're point. Frybread, you're second." he ordered, gesturing at a pair of earth ponies. One of them was the muscular stub of a pony from earlier, named 'Todger'. His pink coat looked almost obscenely colorful, surrounded by the rest of the Talons in black armor. He stomped past me to the elevator door, followed by a Talon earth pony with a holstered long gun, Frybread, I figured. This Talon had big pieces of bread painted on the side of his helmet.

The elevator dinged, and the door slid open. Todger almost leapt into the elevator, followed by Frybread and Jimstone. Jimstone flipped a salute as the door closed and the elevator grumbled back down. Brick hopped off his footlocker and trotted to the elevator door. Turning, he addressed the remaining people. "OK, HQ squad – I'm going to lead, Windy and Gnash with me. Egglebert, you wait here with Wicked and the eggheads. Once the elevator comes back, bring the kids down, and take the key with you."

"Not a problem, boss." Engineer replied. The other two griffins had closed up with him, and the four of us hung back. The elevator dinged its way open again, and Brick piled into it with the two griffins. As it grumbled away, I took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh. "You OK, kid?"

"Yeah. Just..  this could be interesting." I replied.

"I'm scared out of my hide." Chalice offered, shifting on her hooves. "Lyrical?"

"I'm..   I'm ready." Lyrical said in a small voice. It didn't shake or tremble, though, and I looked at her with new respect. The elevator door dinged, and we piled in. The rumble of descent was much louder from inside the elevator, and the cheerful ding when it stopped made me twitch. Blinky, feeling the tension, was at full alert, standing on my shoulders and looking out past my head.

The door slid open into the aftermath of madness. The lighting was flickering and unsteady. Chunks of pony were scattered around senselessly, some smoking and stinking, some just scattered lumps. In the center of the large open room, Todger danced aside from the lunge of a feral, planting his front hooves and neatly kicking through the ghoul, nearly ripping it in half. It crumpled to the floor and didn't move any more after he pulled back from his brutal buck. The Talons were scattered around the room, in their squads. On the right, Frybread sat on his haunches facing a door . Todger nudged Jimstone as he moseyed casually towards Frybread from the center of the room.  Straight ahead, Burns stood facing an open corridor, helmet dangling from straps over one shoulder, scratching vigorously at the back of his head with a fork. Squirt slouched against the wall on one side of the opening, sprawled out bonelessly. On the other side, Kettle Bell nibbled delicately at the tip of her sledgehammer's handle.

On the left, Brick sat on a crate, watching both the other entrances. The dark grey form of Windy hunched over a door there. Gnash sat next to the elevator, and greeted us with a wave as the door slid open. "Yo. Boss says this room is clear. Sit tight here at the door for now."

"OK." I replied, plopping down on my haunches. Chalice sat next to me, and Lyrical hung back by the elevator door with Engineer. A triumphant squawk came from the left, and I peered over to see the door slide open, and a ravening pony-shaped fury knocked Windy away from the door in a thrashing pile of limbs and hunger. The ghoul reared back, stomping its forehooves into Windy's chest, and lunged down with its teeth bared. Windy slammed a fisted talon into the side of its head, causing the bite to miss. The monster pulled back to try again, and Brick's charge hit it like a ton of bricks.

My horrid analogy aside, Brick blasted the feral off of Windy with sheer physical force. It bounced off the wall next to the door and rebounded into Brick's forehoof strike, which shattered its jaw, almost unhinging it from the decaying head. Windy had rolled away as soon as Brick had cleared her. Springing back to her feet, she snatched her rifle from where it leaned next to the door. Shouldering it, she screeched 'CLEAR!'. Brick abandoned his followup forehoof strike and threw himself back and sideways. As his body dropped, Windy pulled the trigger, and with a massive blast, her rifle spoke. I fell over, clapping my forehooves to my ears.

Immediately I started fumbling upright, my eyes darting to the feral as soon as I could force them open. I got my hooves under me, and I couldn't find the ghoul anywhere. I looked around, checking on Brick, who was dragging himself back to his hooves. Windy was calmly reloading her rifle. Blinky had fallen off my back when I fell over, and nipped me right below the armor. I tossed him back up on his position, and looked back to Brick. Brick was poking through a pile of limbs and gore, his magic shuffling lumps of meat and unidentifiable gristle around. Turning back with a grumble, Brick trotted over to the group of us in front of the elevator.

"Three bottlecaps and a fork. I hate ghoul loot. Just doesn't make sense." Brick rumbled. "OK, here's the ground rules. Gnash is in charge of you three. You're going to be towards the back of the group if we're all moving. If we split up, you stay with me. Wicked – you're the only fighter in this crew, I want you behind Lyrical and Chalice. Gnash will stay in front of them, and Engineer will go wherever he's needed. Once we've gotten an area secured, you'll be free to explore. Got it?"

"Yes, Brick." We all obediently chorused. Brick nodded, a short chop of his head, then gestured at the recently opened door.

"Go on ahead, then." He said, and we did. I stuck behind the girls as they carefully walked to the door Windy had just opened. I shoved past them and looked inside, seeing an empty storeroom. Shelves stacked with junk and boxes, a few ammo cans, and a glowing terminal. No other ghouls or entries, just a ragged nest of shredded boxes in one corner.

"Looks good to me." I said, backing my way out of the store-room. Chalice ducked past me and went straight for the terminal with a happy squee. Lyrical trotted past her and started opening boxes and pulling things off shelves. I was smiling as I turned into the main chamber. Gnash clapped me on the shoulder, taking position just outside the door.

"Good instinct, kid. I'll keep an eye on them, go poke around the rest of the room." Gnash said. I nodded at him and looked around. The scene was mostly unchanged – none of the Talons had reacted to the brief scuffle Windy had been in. Todger was pacing in front of the right door, snorting and bouncing off his forehooves every few steps. Burns had finished scratching, and was floating the fork in front of his face, bobbing it this way and that. Windy and Brick were in a clear spot in the center of the room, Windy fiddling with her massive rifle, Brick almost motionless.

"Hey, Windy, Brick. You two OK?" I asked as I trotted up. Windy snorted a laugh, and Brick shot me a raised eyebrow look.

"Yeah, a single feral isn't going to even wake this crew from its nap." Brick said. "You OK, though, kid? Gnash said you fell over when Windy shot that feral?"

"It was the second loudest thing I have ever heard." I confessed. "The loudest was a stick of dynamite, and it was outside." I said, rubbing at my ears. Brick laughed, and thumped me on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine, kid. Windy's not gonna whip that big bastard out unless we really need it. That feral just pissed her off." Brick said. Windy and I laughed. I moseyed around the room myself, kicking bits of ghoul out of my way, tossing the occasional bottlecap or small item into my saddlebags. Todger gave me a nod as I approached the right door. Peering down it, I saw a hallway, blocked with a pile of desks and junk. With a snort, I proceeded onward. A lump of machinery was in the far corner, covered in grime and dust. I poked at it with Stickbird, prying at access panels, but couldn't get it open.

The straight-ahead path didn't have anything terribly interesting in it either, a shorter distance of hallway that made a right turn. I made my way back to the store-room door and plopped into a sit, listening to the mutters from the girls at work, sorting through in search of data or evidence. Blinky jumped off my back and trotted into the store-room, snuffling and sniffing. I poked my head in, and watched him as he pulled a packet out of one of the boxes Lyrical had set down, tearing into it with his sharp teeth. The contents proved to be a pre-war snack cake, and the molerat soon demolished the treat.

I smiled at the scene as Blinky pulled another cake out of the box, backing his way out of the store-room. The molerat dropped the cake at my feet then rose to his hindlegs, scratching at my armored leg. I hoisted him back up to his normal spot and nuzzled him as he curled up and went to sleep. Examining the cake, it proved to be a Fancy Buck cake, identical to the ones we'd find occasionally back home. I smiled at the twinge of homesickness as I tore the wrapper open. The cake inside, apple, smelled just like I remembered. I nibbled away, considering the walls around me. The ruins at home were all in similar shape, filthy and worn, with cracks crazing through them in parts. The floor was flat and solid, at least, even if the tiles that had once covered it were mostly missing.

The smell here was different, too. Where anything underground or pre-war at home had a moldy, dirty, 'old' smell, here there was a sharp hint of the same salt that had come on the breeze while I was headed towards the compound above. I took a deep breath, snuffing through my nose and open mouth. I could smell the salt, the rotten meat stink of the ghouls, and the mold-and-old scent of ruins, but there was something else underneath all of that. Something I didn't recognize. I was snapped out of my pondering by the quiet voice of Lyrical Thesis, who had emerged from the store-room.

"Excuse me, Mr. Brick? We found something. We think we have an idea of what this place was."

Footnote: Level Progression: 82%

Character Profile: Lyrical Thesis

Unicorn - Peachy Creme coat, EXTREMELY GREEN MANE. firey orangered eyes.

Cutie Mark – Open book with musical notes.

S P E C I A L

4 7 4 7 8 3 7

Barter            25

Energy Weapons    15

Explosives        15

Guns            27

Lockpicking        21

Medicine            27

Melee            9

Repair            40

Science            42

Sneak            12

Speech            25

Survival            14

Unarmed            9

Good Natured - You studied less-combative skills as you were growing up. Your combat skills start at a lower level, but other skills are substantially improved. Take +5 to Barter, Medicine, Repair, Science, and Speech. Take -5 to Energy Weapons, Explosives, Guns, Melee Weapons, and Unarmed

Early Bird - From 6AM to 12PM, you gain +2 to all SPECIAL stats but from 9PM to 6AM, you suffer -1 to all SPECIAL stats.

Chapter Six: Refuse/Resist

Burns and Todger stayed on station, focussed down their respective hallways. All the other Talons, however, had gathered in close to listen to the off-yellow unicorn. The eyes on her seemed to unnerve Lyrical, and though she hid behind the stringy fall of her bright green mane, her voice was level and strong. Occasional noises from the store room showed that Chalice was still at work as Lyrical relayed the information they had discovered.

"The first thing we need to establish is background information. Mr. Brick has been briefed, but I don't know if anyone else here has. Collegiate files indicated that this was a desalinization plant, one that had almost gone online when the bombs dropped." Brick nodded, glancing around at the assembled Talons and myself. I raised a hoof in question.

"What's desalinization?" I asked.

"Well, are you familiar with saltwater?" Lyrical replied, peering at me from behind her mane.

"Oh, yes – nasty stuff."

"Well, This was supposed to be a place that removed the salt from water, and purified it – leaving only fresh clean water behind." Lyrical continued. "Even now, the vast majority of water available is not clean or safe to drink." She said, before Gnash raised a talon.

"I thought the Gardens of Equestria megaspell took care of that?" He asked, intent on the discussion. Brick stood, drawing everyone's attention.

"It did..  mostly. Think of it as a seige – Gardens took out the invading force, sure, but their dumps and trash heaps are still left behind. Even with Gardens taking out almost all of the Taint and the rads from the Great War, we're still left with plain old normal trash and filth to deal with." Brick lectured. Gnash nodded, subsiding. Lyrical stepped forward when he paused, and resumed her narrative.

"That actually works wonderfully as a metaphor, Mr. Brick, thank you. And it's precisely correct. Even after Gardens stripped the worst of the magical radiation and corruption from the environment, we are still plauged with normal pollution and contamination. A burned building that falls into a river can make the water downstream for miles unsafe to drink. Even worse if it was..  occupied." Lyrical said. I couldn't tell if the green tinge on her face was reflected off her mane, or caused by the thought of burnt bodies.

"So, before the war, and now, after Gardens, this place should still be a valuable resource. During the Wasteland years, this place would have been priceless." Lyrical said, pausing to scuff at the floor with a forehoof. "If it was, in fact, a water purification plant. It's not."

The Talons muttered amongst themselves at this news. I looked over and caught Burns looking back at the group. He whipped back to facing the hallway as I saw him. Todger was on his haunches, considering a forehoof. He put it back on the floor and stared stolidly down the hall. I returned my attention to Lyrical as she continued.

"We're not sure what it is, but the incoming delivery logs don't have anything near enough equipment for desalinization work. What they do show, however, is magical waste delivery. Lots of it."

Chalice trotted out of the storeroom and checked the floor for cleanliness. With a sigh, she sat next to Lyrical. "That's about everything from this room – there's some ammo there, but no other information about the site. We're going to need to go further in if we want to find out anything."

Brick dismissed the Talons, most of them returning to their hallway entrances. He and Windy disappeared into the storeroom, while Chalice and Lyrical stayed outside with me. I was trying to think of something to say to the two educated unicorns, when Brick and Windy came back. Brick had a few magazines floating behind him, which he handed over to Squirt, and Windy was tucking something into her own pouch.

"Ok, Lyrical, Chalice, put together a report on what you've found so far. Engineer will take it upstairs to the eggheads, and we'll continue on." Brick ordered. The two hurried to produce a report, and shortly had a scroll, which Engineer brought upstairs with a salute. The elevator hummed away from us, and Brick turned back to giving orders. He sent Jimstone's squad into the right hallway, which proved to be empty for the short distance it ran before being blocked with a pile of debris. Jimstone reported that he thought it was clearable, but Brick told him they'd come back to it. The straight ahead hallway was next, and Squirt's squad got to take point on that. Squirt mixed the two squads, with Todger and Kettle Bell leading the way. Burns was right behind them, his rubbery helmet back on and his strange weapon floating in front of him, tubes running to the tanks on his back.

We proceeded down the hallway as a group, Todger and Kettle Bell leading in a strange halting rush that had one of them in cover at all times.. Burns walked slowly behind them, dividing his attention between them and the hallway itself. The hallway wasn't excessively long, and ended in a sharp right turn. I watched intently from my place at the back of the group as Todger stopped on the inside corner of the turn, hard against the wall, and motioned Kettle Bell forward. She took the corner agressively, charging ahead. Instead of stopping, she turned her body and just bounced off the wall. As she hit the wall, Burns was already moving, sliding into the far side of the corner in a more controlled skid.

Todger had ducked out of sight around the corner at almost the same time, and the three of them held silent and still for a long moment. Todger shuffled back far enough to be visible, and waved a hoof. "Clear" he said in a surprisingly mellow voice. The lead three moved forward slowly, and the rest of us came up behind them. A guttural howl reverbrated through the hallway, followed by a sharp 'HA!'. I surged forward and whipped around, suddenly very aware of my rearmost position. I felt my flank thump into one of the girls as I whirled, and I kept it there, just to have an idea of where one of them was. There wasn't anything behind us, any critter or feral ghoul moving to attack. Another howl from behind me, followed by a splattering crunch. I couldn't resist tossing a glance over my shoulder, and past the clump of Talons and the shaking Eggheads, I saw Kettle Bell scowling at her sledgehammer, chunky gore dripping off the head.

"OK, Really Clear." Todger called. I relaxed, and turned back to the girls. Lyrical was leaning against Chalice, who was shaking like a leaf. I moved next to her and leaned in on her other side. It took a few seconds, but she stopped shaking, and I stepped away.

"Thank you." She said in a small voice. I smiled at her and nudged her with a shoulder.

Looking forward again, Todger and Burns had disappeared around the corner. Chalice shook herself and we all followed Brick. I shot a glance at the corpse of the feral as we passed it. The ghoul was almost completely headless, its body limp and sprawled, a trail of blood extending out the pulped stump of the neck. I followed the trail with my eyes, and saw a splatter of gore about chest level on the wall. I whistled in appreciation, and heard Kettle Bell chuckle.

At the end of the hallway, the same pile of rubble blocked the intersection with the right hallway. We clumped in front of the rubble, Brick examining it with a scowl on his face. The plug looked tight, but not impossible to move. I hid a sigh as Brick turned around. I had a suspicion I knew what was coming next, and I wasn't disappointed. "OK, we can clear this. Squad one, you're on clearing. Squad two, you're split for guard. Squirt, you're here, Kettle Bell and Burns will be on the other side. Wicked, you're with the clear team. Everyone else hang out in the elevator room."

We put action to deed. Blinky, the traitorous lump, hung out with the eggheads and the griffins in the first room. He appeared to be taking a shine to Lyrical, and I could hear her giggling and talking sweet to him whenever I made it back into the central room, dumping debris into the rapidly growing pile. Todger worked stolidly, his massive strength apparent in his choice of targets. I struggled and sweated, trying to make a good showing. On my way back from hauling a filing cabinet, Todger stopped me. He was barely warmed up, and stood easily with a chunk of desk balanced on his muscular shoulders.

"Don't kill yourself. Pace the work." Todger said. Without pausing long enough for me to even begin to forumlate a reply, he walked stolidly on. On my next trip, I had a moderately sized chunk of concrete balanced on my back, and my steps were much easier. I couldn't help but smile at Todger as I pass him, and he gave me a short nod.

The rubble was cleared in short order, revealing a hallway that extended two or three times further than the short stub before another sharp turn blocked our vision. We took a short break to let those of us clearing rubble rest, and Brick formed the combat squads up and sent them ahead. They leaprfrogged down the hallway as squads this time. It was interesting, seeing the different techniques they used. Before, Todger and Kettle Bell had traded places down the hallway, swinging past each other like they were tied together. Burns had trotted behind them like an obedient pet, alert and watchful.

Split into squads, the procedure had a lot of similarities. Squad one would go ahead, Todger hitting the wall and stopping with Frybread right behind him. Jimstone stayed just off the wall and behind them both, and would wave squad two in. Squad two did similar, and we swiftly cleared our way to the end of the hallway. "Stairs down, boss." Squirt announced, and we rolled around what proved to be a landing, and down the stairwell.

The stairwell was longer than any I had experience with. It paused two flights down on a landing, made a sharp left, and continued onward. The light didn't extend past the landing, and Squad one was in the interesting position of having to charge into complete darkness. Brick halted them with a short chirp of a whistle. I sniffed at the air, noting the heavier scent of salt, and a faint rushing noise.  With a snap and a woosh Brick lit a flare, and tossed it past squad one into the darkness. The red light of the flare reflected off of what had to be a dozen pairs of eyes, and the flare landed amidst a clot of ferals. The ferals, packed into the short flat area at the bottom of the stairs, howled in rage and hunger, and charged.

Chalice and Lyrical immediately broke and ran, and I wasted no time catching up with them. The three of us thundered back up the stairs and into the central elevator room. The two unicorns immediately ducked into rough defensive positions we had built from the rubble removed from the pile, and I positioned myself so I could see both hallways, panting heavily.

"Either of you fight – at all?" I gasped, more from tension than fatigue. The sound of gunfire and a wooshing crackle rolled down the hall we had fled down, mixed with ghoulish screams.

"I- I can hit a target. I don't know about this!" Lyrical replied, her voice shaking worse than mine. Chalice wordlessly floated out a small pistol.

"OK. If one comes, start shooting as soon as you think you'll hit it. If it makes it into the room, please don't shoot me." I said, my voice levelling out. Both girls acknowledged, and not a moment later a ghoul came sprinting down the hallway.

The horrid creature resembled the ghouls I had seen at home, but only vaugely. It's mottled patchwork hide was shiny and smooth, its face disfigured and grotesque even by ghoul standards. Whatever had caused the difference didn't seem to slow it down though, and it swiftly closed the distance towards us. I heard the pops of the girls pistols, but I ignored them as I charged forward. I met the ghoul in the entry to the hallway, Stickbird in my grip. My initial lunge missed the throat shot I was going for, but dug into the feral's shoulder, and skated down its body under the skin, splitting it open on the way. I kept the momentum of my charge long enough to clear the ghoul, and planted my forehooves for a buck. My rear hooves caught the whirling ghoul as it came around, and I felt one of its shoulders give with a squishy crunch. The feral reared and howled in pain and fury, which gave me enough time to get back in position for another strike.

I didn't have momentum or distance for a charge, so I swung. My swipe slashed through the ghoul's face just above the bridge of its nose, blasting one of its eyes out of its head. The feral rode the hit, then snapped back to sink its teeth into my neck. Some of the attack was blunted by my armor, but the pain still made me howl. I brought my head and my weapon back across, and speared the ghoul. In one ear and out the other, and the salt and rot stench as it collapsed had me biting vomit back on the shaft of my weapon.

I pushed the re-dead thing off of Stickbird, and slotted my weapon back into my holster. I lost it, then, and splattered the disgusting thing with a spray of vomit. Once my stomach was emptied, I shook myself and took stock of the situation. Brick and company were still fighting down the hallway, judging by the occasional ghoul howl and gunfire. I trotted back towards Lyrical, who was peeking over the top of the filing cabinet she knelt behind. Wordlessly, the little peach unicorn floated a small purple vial to me, and I bowed my head in thanks before I nipped it out of the air and downed it.

I could feel the hot throb of the bite wound fading, and even more pleasantly, the raw sick sensation of puking faded. I sighed in relief, and pulled a canteen out for a drink. The water rinsed the taste of sick and the lingering indescribable 'purple' taste of the potion away. I spat and took a slower drink, then looked over at the unicorns. Lyrical was peeking over the filing cabinet still, watching down the long hallway. Chalice had curled up under a desk that composed the large part of her position, and was sobbing. I made my way towards her, but was interrupted by a squeak from Lyrical. I jumped her and her position on my way down the hallway, as two ghouls clattered up it, howling.

The leading ghoul was slightly smaller, and I hit it with a shoulder block. If this worked, I would knock it over. This should have disabled it long enough to deal with the second ghoul. It didn’t work. My eyes wide and terrified, I fell over backwards instead. Screaming as I fell, I saw the second feral top the barricade. Ignoring Lyrical’s pistol fire, the ghoul leapt over the piled rubble. I thrashed my way onto my side, suffering a few small bites from the first feral in the process, and managed to get to my hooves. Since I was already facing away from the nearest threat, I planted my front hooves and put everything I had into an applebuck.

I felt the ghoul's chest shatter beneath my hooves. Rotted flesh splattered out of it, painting the floor with foul goop. I gathered myself and whirled. There was still some fight left in this beast, it seemed, and I spun right into the ghoul’s hoofstrike, its ragged forehoof catching me in the gap between chest plate and shoulder armor, sending a spike of agony through that joint. I took the blow and rolled with it, using the momentum to lunge down and over in order to collect my fallen weapon. I rolled upwards into a thrusting strike, completely missing the attack at the ghoul’s neck. This time however, Stickbird's hook came into play, driven by adrenaline and furious rage. The hook ripped along the ghoul's spine, blasting apart the shoulder joint and a majority of ribs.

With a clotted inequine scream, the ghoul toppled over. I wrenched Stickbird out of the bloody carcass, and spun to take care of the second feral. As I came around, I felt teeth sink into my hindleg. I screamed, dropping Stickbird, and craned my neck around to see the feral's gnashing teeth embedded into my leg. I kicked it with my free rear hoof, battering at its head while screaming bloody murder. A crunch of bone from the thing’s head and the feral stiffened, then slumped into death. I was able to rip myself free from the creature as I began to hobble back towards the two unicorns, sobbing in agony as each step sent pain shooting up my leg. I pushed myself, limping with my teeth clenched on my weapon's handle as the screaming started. I wasn't quick enough. The second feral was buried to its shoulders in Chalice's belly, gnawing and ripping with wet sucking sounds. Lyrical was screaming, shooting at it as fast as she could reload. I stumbled around the barricade as I hit the corner of the filing cabinet with my wounded limb. The agony doubled, and everything went red.

I lunged forward, howling around Stickbird. I barely noticed Blinky falling off the creature's rump, scampering away, and he was right to. I was Wicked Cut, brutal god of the Wasteland. This howling fucking demon had dared to harm one of MY followers, and I worked vengance on it's disgusting meat with every righteous blow of my weapon. The ghoul jerked itself out of Chalice's splayed corpse, intestines trailing after it. I took the opportunity presented by its erect stance to stab it, burying the entire length of Stickbird's head into the ghoul's chest. The faint resistance of the ribcage parting under my attack drew a howl from my clenched teeth, and the thump of the hook bouncing off the ribs shook across my head like thunder. I ripped Stickbird out of the hole in the ghoul, rearing back to put more force behind my next blow.

My head came up and back, the stretch of my neck going to lend force to the smashing downward blow I was about to drop. Instead of slamming forward and destroying the ghoul, I hung there, balanced on my back legs. The shock, the suddent 'stop' where I expected to smash downward, broke my rage apart. I hung in the air, my eyes rolling, until I focussed on Todger standing next to me. Todger had reared and grasped Stickbird between my grip on the handle and the point, stopping my attack cold. The red haze of fury drained out of my vision, and I released Stickbird. Todger dropped back to his hooves and set my weapon on the floor as I blinked stupidly at him. I looked up at Todger, his pink coat spattered with blood and bits of ghoul. I realized  I had collapsed to the floor in a splay of legs. The red haze had been replaced by a grey slime of pain. I struggled back to my hooves, shaking, my eyes wide and casting about the room.

"Wh-what?" Was all I could manage to sputter, my thought processes choked and sludgy. Todger huffed out a sigh, then laid a hoof gently on my shoulders, stroking my back like I was a foal.

"It's OK, Kid. It's OK." he said, and I looked from him to the ghoul. I took a deep breath to respond, but there were no words in me, nothing I could say about my failure. Todger clouted me on the shoulder, then trotted off. I could hear Lyrical sobbing behind me, and I suddenly couldn't take my eyes off of the..  remains. The ghoul had just barely pulled its head out of Chalice before I had killed it. My frenzied attack had splattered the thing into an unrecognizable lump of gore. The only identifiable part left was the ghoul's head, still wrapped in Chalice's intestines like a lumpy grey scarf.

The little blue unicorn, so delicate and shiny sitting at the table with her peers earlier, was spread out like a victim, like a leftover chunk of meat too tough to chew. Her face and horn had escaped damage, and I felt a flicker of gratitude that at least this hadn't been taken from her. Levering myself to my hooves, I wobbled forward and shakily closed Chalice's eyes. I turned away from the fallen, trading a grim nod with Todger. Brick was surrounded by griffins, facing down Engineer with Gnash and Windy on either side of him. I could feel the grey slime fading from my vision as I returned to now-ness, and all at once I could make sense out of the words.

"All right, yes, I underestimated the damn place. But we've got four full squads of Talons here, you tell me what could possibly be down there that could stand against that!" Brick said, low and intent.

"You've got three squads of Talons and a handful of leftovers, Brick! This is a bad call, damnit!" Engineer argued, his normally-disheveled feathers sticking out like a bristle brush in his agitation. Brick snorted, shooting a look at Windy and Gnash, who remained silent. I took a moment to root through my saddlebags, which thankfully had escaped damage. A healing potion and a syringe of Med-X put me to rights. I craned around and blinked in amazement as the gashes in my hindleg sealed shut with the magical speed of potion-assisted healing. I flexed the leg gingerly, and dropped it to the floor with satisfaction. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for now.

"And what do you two think, since Egglebert here has a case of the scareds?" Brick asked. Windy shot a sour look at him, and Gnash had opened his beak to reply when I shoved my way between him and Engineer.

"Hey. Let's get Lyrical back on her hooves and get rolling. We're burning daylight." I said, my voice controlled and level, giving the lie to the tear marks matting my face. Engineer's beak dropped, staring at me wordlessly while his pointy griffin face worked in shock. I shrugged at him before continuing. "Fall apart later. Complete the mission now. Besides, I really want to kill some ghouls."

Windy took a deep breath to respond, but Gnash interrupted her with a raised claw. "The kid's right. Save all this for the after-action, let's clear this place and get out of here." Gnash said. Windy held herself erect for a moment, then subsided. Brick grunted, tossing his head at her.

"OK then. Windy, hang back with Wicked and Lyrical. Engineer, stay between them and me. Gnash, you're with me." He ordered.

As we formed back up, I took a moment to check on Lyrical. She was kneeling at her spot behind the barricade, spent bullets surrounding her. Blinky was standing in front of her, awkwardly patting her face while she cried great heaving sobs. I laid my neck across hers and hugged her as hard as I could from the side, and she jolted in shock. For a long moment she stiffened, then relaxed and curled into my embrace with a final shuddering sob.

"Come on, Lyrical. Let's get through this. We can sit down and fall apart afterwards." I said, breaking our hug and putting a foreleg across her shoulders.

The peach colored unicorn stared down at Blinky, who had fallen back to all fours and was stretching upwards, his whiskers twitching. With a sigh, she nuzzled the molerat and rose to her hooves, wiping at her eyes. "You're right, This needs done. I...  I'll be OK."

I left my hoof on her shoulders for a moment more before snatching Blinky up and looking around. Windy was watching us, and seeing my glance, she waved at the hallway.

"If your're ready, let's go. We'll pick up Chalice on the way back."

Squad one lead for the short run back to the stairwell. Chunks of ghoul liberally splattered the stairs and the end of the hallway. Nothing moved save for us and the Talons. The ruddy light of the flare flickered and subsided as we approached the landing, then came back with a fresh snap-hiss. Squad two waited on the landing, Kettle Bell and Squirt waving lazy salutes as squad one joined them. The attitude was completely different now, warier and angrier. Piles of body parts lay scattered on the floor, slime and dark ghoul juices splattering the wall. The carnage got thicker and heavier below the landing, though the Talons had cleared any parts blocking the doors at the bottom.

My nostrils flared at the heavy stench of dead ghoul and salt. Lyrical coughed and retched at the stench, and Blinky had buried his nose, hiding his head under a flap of my armor. The door at the bottom of the stairs was locked and barred, the heavy metal bar visible through the narrow, grimy glass slits that passed for windows. With the bar in play, the lock became irrelevant, and the whole group paused for a second in the foul air of the stairwell, before Burns started laughing. His voice muffled and distorted by his mask and his laughter, no one could understand the rubber-coated unicorn. With a flicker of his firey magic, Burns pulled his mask off, and gestured to the outside edges of the door.

"The bar's on that side..  but the hinges are over here!" He chuckled.

Burns put his mask back on, while Windy and Gnash worked at the hingepins. There were six of them, and the top two were the only ones that could be removed. The bottom hinges were fuzzballs of corrosion, and the middle set were just solidly rusted into one piece. Windy had stepped back from the hinges, muttering with Brick while Gnash scraped and tapped at the frozen door. With a kick on the metal of the door, Gnash gave up.

"If you're done playin', Gnash, let a woman show you how it's done." Kettle Bell put in, shoving past the grumbling griffin. Her hammer held high, Kettle Bell considered the door. She took just a short pause before taking two quick looping strikes. With curious flat clanging noises, the hinges were blasted off the door. Smiling broadly, Kettle turned and considered the second set of hinges. "Yo, boss – I'm gonna blast the hinges off and leave the door hanging on the bar, 'K?" Brick grunted an affirmative, and with two more looping strokes Kettle Bell sledged the remaining hinges. The door sagged inwards when the last hinge went, and Kettle trotted back with a smirk on her face.

Windy and Gnash stepped forward, one on each side of the door, and pulled the bottom inward. The whole assembly rotated over, and hung at an angle. Todger squatted a shoulder underneath the inner edge of the door and pushed up with a grunt. The door screamed as corroded metal parted, and unceremoniously fell to the floor. Beyond the door was a metal grated floor, dark and slick with slime. The floor appeared to be part of a walkway that extended left and right from the door, and the room beyond was too dark to see. Burns trotted forward, with Squirt and Frybread behind him. Burns went through the door pointed to the right, the flickering pilot light of his flamethrower the only light other than the ruddy glow of the flare. Squirt went in facing left, his machine guns floating in the dark blue grip of his magic. Frybread followed, peering into the darkness over the edge of the walkway.

Trying to look everywhere at once, it seemed, Frybread backed up both of his squadmates. For long seconds we waited, but nothing came out of the darkness. Squad two hustled in, taking the left side of the walkway and freeing Squirt and Frybread to concentrate on the right. Brick followed, and a brace of flares slid out of his saddlebags on his magic, and lit as he threw them into the room beyond. The space thus revealed was huge, taller than two of the rooms we had been in stacked on top of each other. The grating proved to be a catwalk ringing the room at the midpoint, and I suddenly understood what 'floors' meant as a measure of height. Peering in from the bottom of the stairwell, I thought I saw lumps on the bottom of the grating, but dismissed them as a trick of the uncertain light.

The red glow of the flares did more to highlight the bulking mass on the floor in the middle of the room than to reveal details. There were multiple staircases leading down onto the main floor from the catwalk, and no movement at all in the room. With short, clipped orders, Brick sent Squirt and his squad along the catwalk. They circled the room warily, silent save for the odd clump of hooves on the slimy metal. Squad one paused at the far end, where a darker rectangle indicated a door, then continued the rest of the way around. They paused and slowed as they passed each set of stairs down, but didn't descend either of them. Soon, they had rejoined the rest of us.

"Nothing moving, no threats visible. The room's big enough to use a star shell so we can see. Stairs look passable, the same growth on them as on the catwalk. Far door's locked." Squirt said, gesturing with his SMGs. Brick recieved his report with a grunt, then turned to his saddlebag. He pulled a bizarre item out, and held it in front of him long enough for me to get a good look at it. A clear globe with a twist of wires and metal inside it, glowing with a sickly green light.

Brick focussed on the globe until it made a 'click' sound, and started to glow a dull red, similar to the flare. He floated the globe out and away, and its light brightened past the red of the flares, through a bright orange, and then to a brilliant white. Brick had the device, the starshell, hanging just under the ceiling by the time it was white, and when he released it, it stuck. A murmuring rustle filled the cavern now, and as the Talons noticed and began to look around, Frybread stiffened.

"By Celestia's incandescent asshole." He muttered, almost lovingly. Squirt shot a look over at this, and blanched at the fixed expression on Frybread's face.

"Oh fuck." Squirt said. "BRICK! BATS!"

Brick jumped, landed facing the door, and charged, sweeping Burns along with his magic. Squirt was already through the door, pushing us back to the stairs. Windy and Gnash were already up the stairs. As he cleared the door, Brick slung Burns into a crumpled heap against the far wall. As Brick spun again, I could hear a rising scream from Frybread, left on the far side of the door. "BATS! Batsbatsbatsbats Aaaahahahahha!!!!"  Brick ripped the door inside on a bright surge of magic, slamming it against the doorframe and pinning it into place. Then the gunfire started.

"Frybread has..  a problem." Brick said, holding the door up. Gnash chuckled, and Squirt sighed. Rapid fire gunshots echoed from the room beyond, and one would occasionally impact the door. Brick grunted when this happened, but his magic never faded or faltered, keeping the door pinned against its opening. Through the gap around the edges of the door, I could see occasional motion and flickers of black figures flying.

"That's an understatement." Squirt added dryly. "Frybread has a problem with bats like Todger likes to work out on occasion." Todger grunted, and shot Squirt a harsh look. Squirt shrugged, but looked embarassed.

I sat on the filthy floor next to Lyrical, eyes wide as the screaming and gunfire echoed through the door. Frybread screamed for what sounded like forever, occasionally laughing maniacally, usually wordless howls of terror and rage. The gunfire stopped, as did the screaming. Moments later, the door shook with a thump, and Brick hoisted it aside. Frybread staggered through the opening like a ghoul. Sweat was pouring off of him, his eyes wide and rolling. Brick put the door back, and the Talons parted to let him pass as he made his way up the stairs, collapsing in the first cleanish spot. I sat next to Lyrical in complete shock, as Squirt followed Frybread up the stairs. Squirt checked Frybread over for injuries as he lay in a heap, then rubbed his ears gently.

"Alright, Frybread. You're gonna be fine, just sit tight for a few. I'll stay right here with you." Squirt said kindly, before turning back to the Talons gathered at the base of the stairs. "Burns, you're with first squad until Frybread's back online."

Burns nodded, and shot a look at Jimstone, who shrugged expansively. "Works. Jimstone, sweep the catwalk again, take care of any leftovers." Brick ordered, and pulled the door aside once more. I stretched my neck to look as Burns trotted into the room after first squad. Brick moved the door back into place and set it down. It leaned drunkenly against the opening while we waited for squad one to secure the room. Squirt stayed on the stairs next to Frybread, talking quietly to the crumpled pony. Gunshots and a woosh of fire startled me, and I jerked my attention back to the door, but saw nothing.

By the time squad one returned, Frybread was sitting upright again. He was drooping and downcast, his eyes on the floor. Squirt was still talking to him, and his ears would flick occasionally as he listened. Brick left the door leaning against the wall to the side of its frame, and trooped through with Squad one, Gnash, and Windy. Engineer stayed behind with me and Lyrical. No more gunfire or flamethrower noises came from the open doorway. Frybread came down the stairs, walking gingerly, as if his legs hurt. He flinched aside when he saw me watching him, then drew himself up and returned my look. Squirt stayed right next to him, and they made their way through the doorway.

Burns came trotting up shortly afterwards, his mask off and dangling from its straps around his neck. "OK, we're clear. Come on in, Brick wants you." Burns said, pointing at Lyrical. "To see this."

'This' turned out to be the dark shape I had seen from the hallway earlier, a massive cylinder, squat and solid on the floor of the huge room. Pipes ran from either end of it into the floor, and consoles and machinery nestled up against it like lonely pups. I was struck by a line from the journal I had found, suddenly. "re-ran every control and instrument run to the turbine." This, then, was the turbine which the nameless pony had worked on, and which he and Lyrical believed was never intended to work. Everything was cold and dark, and covered with the same slimy coating that made the catwalk overhead slippery and disgusting.

I stuck close to Lyrical as she moved about the turbine. As we cleaned more of the oozy goop away, Lyrical brightened, shaking off the horrified shock that had held her since the ghoul attack in the elevator room. She started muttering to herself, dribbles of words like "counter-rotating synchronized masses." And "balanced shaft, of course." I couldn't help but smile as she improved, and I almost laughed when she stopped dead, gaping at the turbine like it had just dropped into the room.

"I don't understand – this is the real thing." Lyrical said, stopping in front of a curved access panel. "Mr. Cut – open that, please." She continued, gesturing at the panel. I shrugged, drew my weapon, and thrust it into an open bolthole. I pried and pushed at the cover, bending a corner up, and as I shifted my grip to pry from the gap I had just made, the pleasant green of Lyrical's magic lit up the remaining bolts, swiftly spinning them out and dropping them to the floor. With all the bolts out, my next pry forced the cover open, and with a slurp, it dropped off of the turbine to clang on the floor.

Engineer had caught up with us by now, and peered into the pony-length opening on the side of the turbine. "It's – that's a real blade assembly." He said hesitantly, reaching carefully in. A single push with a talon sent the blades inside the housing spinning, and we stood watching while they slowly stopped. Engineer turned to Lyrical, and they both began talking at once, babbling about hermetical seals and negative pressure gradients. I couldn't follow most of what was said, but they were quite excited about their findings. Engineer flapped off to fetch Brick, who was lurking at the unopened door. Lyrical was rocking on her forehooves, humming happily, as Brick made his way down the stairs and over to us.

"So it's real. That contradicts the journal and the notes upstairs. What does that mean?" Brick asked shortly.

"I don't know, Mr. Brick, but it must mean something. This turbine was not easily manufactured, and to survive since the War in as good a shape as it is, it must have been authentic." Lyrical replied. Brick grunted, and stood in thought, blinking slowly. With a snort and a toss of his head, he turned from the turbine to face Lyrical.

"Well, check out the control room, then. It's unlocked and cleared, there's nothing inside that we're concerned about. See what you can get." With that, Brick trotted off, back towards the entry door.

Lyrical trotted happily off to the nearest staircase, climbing swiftly back to the catwalk on the far end of the room. I followed her, Engineer followed me, and we both stopped at the now-unlocked door into what Brick had called the Control Room. Windows with security glass, cracked around the wire mesh inside them, looked out over the larger room, and inside, consoles lined that outer wall. I noticed large numbers of pipes running down the wall inside the larger room, and checking, they hooked into the back of the consoles here. A few of these were still lit, fitfully flickering their green glow. Lyrical detoured around a pony skeleton, lying in a discolored stain on the floor. I stopped to check this, noting that the unicorn's horn had been smashed completely loose, and pushed back into his skull. With a shudder, I shoved the bones underneath the desk, making sure the skull was hidden. Better for Lyrical to notice garbage instead of a mangled unicorn.

There turned out to be three terminals live and useful. The first one was logged in already, and Lyrical swiftly copied all of the data onto a gadget she pulled from her saddlebags. The second was errored out, "crashed" according to Lyrical, and useless. The third was locked, and Lyrical spent long minutes on it, carefully probing through screens filled with what looked like garbage to me. I was fairly clever, as things went, but this was completely outside my skill set!

With a triumphant squee, Lyrical broke the security on the third terminal, only to discover that it held the same information and options as the first one. Grumbling in dicontent, she settled down on the cleaner section of floor in here and swiftly organized her notes, juggling the gadget from earlier, paper, and a quill pen. I sat near the door, dividing my attention between her, the control room, and the larger turbine room. The control room was still pretty big, easily three pony lengths deep, and six or seven long. The windows would have provided a commanding view of the turbine, if they hadn't been cracked and starred by damage and time. The wall facing the turbine room was lined with terminals, and consisted of one long desk with several rotten chairs tucked under it. Various industrial bits and pieces dotted the room, giving it a very similar feel to the control rooms from the subway system underneath Our Tacksworn.

Lockers hung open on the back wall, next to a rack of cabinets. The Talons had already cleaned these out, and the open doors showed nothing of value left behind them. I was peering behind the door, seeing if there was anything of interest on this last section of wall, when Lyrical announced her victory.

"I got it – this makes sense!" She crowed. I pulled my head out from behind the door and looked into her smiling face, as she waved a scrolled parchement in the air. "Let's go get Mr. Brick and tell him what we've found." She said, and I nodded and gestured to the door. Brick was talking to Squirt and Frybread near a door directly underneath our entrance when we trotted up, Frybread looking more like a pony than a wet sack of oats. I smiled at that, even if I hadn't known these Talons for long, they were good people, and I liked them.

"So, no, I don't believe this is a crippling problem, and I won't take your resignation, Frybread. You can take it to Gawd when we get back, but until then I expect you to do the same excellent job you normally do." Brick said with finality, and Frybread nodded, then trotted off grumbling. "I swear, that guy's got one little problem and thinks we all hate him for it." Brick said to Squirt, who shrugged.

"I've tried to explain it to him more than once. Hey you two, you look excited. What've you got?" Squirt replied. Lyrical nodded to him, then floated the parchement over to Brick, who took it in his magic, unrolled it, and began to read.

"It's more complicated than this being a fake facility. It's a real facility, that's a real turbine there, but there was never any intention of using this as a desalinization plant. The whole purpose of this was to-"

"Neutralize Taint." Brick interrupted, rolling the scroll shut. "They were going to use the turbine and somehow mix Taint and the special saltwater from this lake to neutralize it."

"Yes, exactly!" Lyrical said. "The saltwater here has a very high concentration of iron, and trace amounts of something the logs refer to as 'Lunarium', which they thought would neutralize the Taint."

"I want to send this upstairs. We've got further to go, and we need to make sure this information is safe." Brick said, stomping a hoof. "Engineer! Messenger duty again!" he called. Engineer stuck his head out of the control room and hopped off the catwalk, gliding over to us in short order.

"Yessir?" He asked. Brick explained Lyrical's findings to him, and gave over the scroll. Tucking it into one of his pouches, Engineer flew up to the catwalk and disappeared back the way we had came.

Summoning the rest of the Talons, Brick gave our marching orders, and we considered the remaining door. It was heavier than the door upstairs, and barred on this side. Even frozen in place by the rust of ages and the slime, the bar couldn't resist Kettle Bell's persuasive argument, and soon clattered to the floor. The door itself was not locked, and I hung back with Lyrical. Gnash, Windy, and Brick stayed with us as both squads boiled into the darkness beyond.

Footnote: Level Up! Skill upgrade – Melee +9 (52), Speech +4 (36), Guns +3 (15)

Companion Perk: Sneak Attack. Molerats are the lowest form of wildlife in the Wasteland, and most ponies will ignore them as no threat. Blinky can prove them wrong, often in extremely uncomfortable ways. Provides one free bite attack per combat.

Level Perk: Better Criticals: +50% damage to critical attacks.

Afterword:

As always and ever, thanks to Arcane_Scroll, VolrathXP, and Don'tAskForCookies, pre-readers, editors, soundboards all. This story wouldn't exist without them. All hail Kkat, All hail Dan Shive. All hail Somber.

Chapter Seven: The Thing That Should Not Be

Gnash led HQ squad into the stairwell, now lit by the Talons' red flares, and we proceeded downwards. This stairwell was longer even than the one that had led us into the turbine room, and I wondered aloud how deep we were getting.

"Not very, actually." Lyrical said, trotting close by me. "The complex is very near a cliff overlooking the lake. I haven't been able to do any precise measurements, but I'd guess we're getting pretty near the level of the lake itself."

I shrugged in agreement, enjoying the warm contact on my shoulder. Gnash halted us with a raised fist, and we stopped on the stairs, looking over another door. This one was barred on the far side, but was otherwise identical to the door at the top of the stairs. Squad one and two had stopped here as well, forming up on the walls to leave room, and Brick trotted past Gnash to consider the door. The slime had disappeared on our way down this stairwell, leaving the walls and floor dry and covered in a thin white film. The film was heavier on the door, and drooled off the hinges like tounges of rock. After inspecting the door for a few moments, Brick withdrew and waved Kettle Bell forward. While the Talons did their thing, I pondered Lyrical. She had been quiet and clingy since we had... lost Chalice, and I couldn't fault her for it, I was pretty rattled myself.

Kettle Bell's sledgehammer sang, and the door bowed to her. Windy and Gnash forced up the inside, and just like the previous door, Todger boosted this one out into the space beyond. Squad one walked in and went left, squad two going right. No gunfire or flames erupted, no shouts of anger or pain. I had started to relax when Burns lit up the room with a long gout from his flamethrower. The long single burst of flame and light was followed by silence and stillness. Nervousness sat heavily on my shoulders as the quiet lengthened, the faintest of glows bringing no details of the contents of this room. I stood at the back of the flat area, my body pointed towards the stairs and my weapon ready in my mouthgrip. Long moments passed before the muffled thumping of hooves announced somepony's prescense. I held myself ready, seeing the remaining Talons doing likewise. Thankfully it was Burns, trotting casually into the red flarelight.

"Looks good – it's a cave, no bats here, no sign of them either. Could use a star shell." Burns said happily. Brick nodded, pulling another of the arcane devices from his saddlebags. Brick's magic lit the shell and sent it sailing into the cave beyond, and we followed it in. Windy stayed behind at the doorway, and I was able to get a good look at the room beyond as Brick soared the star shell up to stick onto the rock ceiling. The white film that had been thickening and growing as we got lower was everywhere, giving the room an almost lunar feeling. Immediately in front of the door was a grated floor, similar to the catwalk from the floor above. Streaks of rust bled through the milky white like metal blood. A sniff revealed the strange substance to have a very faint salty smell, and a tenative kick showed it to be rock hard.

The grated section trailed off to either side in short stairs, with a railing at the front edge guarding a short drop. Looking over the room from the minor elevation of this position, I saw a gently sloping floor, abnormally smooth when it wasn't soaring up in a spike, reaching for a matching spike that descended from the ceiling. The floor worked it's way down before ending in a pool of still, quiet water. The pool lay at the far end of the room, and a huge pair of doors stood over it. The doors were massive, banded in steel and covered in a film of the white rock. Nearer to us, barrels dotted the floor, most still sealed on shipping pallets. Some of the barrels appeared to be rotted open, an off smear of color standing out in the dominating pale white of the room. A few of the barrels had collapsed, looking almost melted into rainbow puddles. I could just see a tin roof, peeking from between pillars in the back left corner of the cave.

We hung near the entry door as the Talons fanned out around the cave, Squirt and Frybread nosing into the hut to investigate, Burns guarding them outside. I approached one of the barrels carefully, Lyrical stuck to me like glue. The barrel we were looking at was one of the corroded leaking ones, standing in a puddle of goop. The goop was bizarre, almost unreal in appearance. It looked like a puddle of rainbow that the color had been drained from, leaving its colors muted and blurred. Returning from his run upstairs, Engineer joined us.

"Well that's curious. That's Taint, but something's wrong with it." The griffin said, bending to sniff at the puddle. "See how the colors are greyish?" He asked.

"It's the lake water." Lyrical said after a moment's thought. "The process would have worked, the lake water is neutralizing the Taint."

"I do believe you're right, young lady. The pool must communicate with the lake, and over time the Lunarium has been, well, attacking it."

"I'm almost glad we're protected enough that Gardens didn't eliminate this – eep!" Lyrical said, poking at the ooze with a quill. As she held up the quill, it slowly softened, drooping and falling down like a liquid to splatter on the floor. "It still has some potency, though." She continued sadly.

A sharp whistle drew our attention to the shed, where Burns was waving at us. "Found some log books!" He hollered, and we made our way across the gently sloping cave floor, avoiding the barrels and their rainbow splatters.

There were indeed some log books, as well as a pony corpse, cemented to the floor with the white rock film. A locker hung open on the wall, Frybread nosing through its contents. Squirt worked on a footlocker on the floor. There was a terminal, but it was dark and silent, covered in the omnipresent milky rock-film. Lyrical brightened and snatched at the logbooks, left sitting on the terminal. In moments they were floating in a cloud around her as she devoured the information. I hung out at the door to the shed, trying to stay out of the way. Glancing outside, the Talons were scattered around. I saw Engineer push off of the floor and flap heavily to one of the descending toothlike formations. Brick was near the entry door, Windy his silent shadow. Kettle Bell and Burns were talking quietly nearby.

"Ha! Got you, you tricky bugger." Squirt said from inside the shed, and I turned to watch him twist his screwdriver full over. The footlocker clicked and opened, revealing folds of shiny white cloth. "Oh, excellent – protective suits." He added.

I turned my attention back to the outside. Todger was moseying towards the shed, carefully avoiding the rainbow smudges of collapsed or damaged barrels. As he neared us, the whirring of wings announced Engineer. Even knowing it was his real name, I couldn't call him Egglebert. I greeted him and Todger with a smile as they both approached the shed.

"You guys find anything interesting?" I asked. Todger shrugged, but Engineer smiled as he held up a fisted talon. Opening it, he revealed a chunk of pale white rock.

"It's softer near the roof. Looked like there was regular dirt mixed in it at the roof, but I couldn't get that high." He said, offering the rock to me.

I sniffed at the rock, my ears pinning back. There was a strong odor of salt, and of rock. But underneath those normal smells was a metallic tinge, bitter and unpleasant. "That's weird. It smells like.. metal."

"Indeed it does.. It looks like the Lunarium concentrates in the salt rock as it deposits." Engineer said, offering the rock to Todger. The muscular pink pony gave a short sniff, then stepped back, shaking his massive head.

"Smells evil." He said. I blinked at that. I hadn't thought evil when that bitter smell had filled my nostrils, but cold and lonely.

I fumbled for words to question Todger on his statement, but I was interrupted by Squirt, sticking his head out the shed door.

"Oh, there you are, perfect. Todger, can you kick this thing loose? I want to move it to the door in case we need them or Brick wants to bring them up." Squirt asked.

Todger nodded his assent and traded places with Squirt. Engineer held the rock out to the blue unicorn.

"And what's this smell like to you?" He asked. Squirt dutifully snuffed at the clump of rock, then backed away, his ears pinned back.

"Danger and salt." He said. "Just like everything else in this place."

A grunt of effort and a clang drew our attention to the inside of the shed, and Todger came out. "Footlocker's loose."

"Thanks, Todger." Squirt replied, drawing the footlocker to him in his magic. With a nod for us, he turned and trotted off, winding his way through the pillars towards the entrance.

I turned and looked back into the shed. Lyrical had stacked most of the logbooks in front of her, and closed the last one as I stuck my head in. Her eyes closed as she thought, still and quiet on the smooth floor of the shed. I couldn't help but smile as she nibbled on a lock of her own mane, deep in reflection. As if a bell had gone off, she spit the hair out and jumped back to her hooves, her eyes flying open.

"Got it figured out?" I asked, the smile still warm on my face. Seeing me watching her, she blushed a delicate pink.

"Actually, yes, I think I do. Let's go talk to Brick."

Todger walked with us back towards the entrance. I stuck close to Lyrical, who seemed to be fading from the rush of her discovery. I leaned into her as we walked, and she sighed and leaned back into me. We walked along, winding our way towards Brick. Todger looked back over his shoulder again, jostling into me.

"What's up, Todger?" I asked.

"Not sure. Thought I saw movement in the water. Haven't seen it again." Todger replied.

I shrugged in response, but started keeping a look out behind us as well. Every time we got a clear line of sight through the stone pillars, I would shoot a glance at the still water. I never saw so much as a ripple before we made it to Brick. Lyrical took a deep breath, leaned against me for a moment, then trotted forward. Brick was in conversation with Windy, who looked agitated, her feathers

"Mr. Brick, I've processed the logbooks." Lyrical announced. Brick silenced Windy with a raised hoof, then favored Lyrical with an even look.

"Let me guess, this wasn't actually a facility to work Taint, it was a production facility for lifting gas for the Pinkie Pie balloons." Brick said, scowling.

Lyrical stopped, surprised. I moved forward, leaning a shoulder into her in support. "What the hell, Brick?" I said sharply.

"The Eggheads are pressing us again to let their teams down here. They somehow think that Chalice's loss.. means that they don't need further Talon protection." Brick growled.

"That.. that doesn't make any sense, Brick! But it's not her fault!" I said angrily. Lyrical was practically hiding behind me, now, and I squared off at Brick, concealing her behind me. Blinky, roused by the raised voices, stood up and chittered over my shoulder.

Brick sucked in a deep breath and drew himself up, face darkening in rage. "What would you know about it, boy?" He shouted. I recoiled from his rage, jostling Lyrical. She took off with a bleat of terror, disappearing into the forest of stone pillars. I returned Brick's glare with my own, planting my hooves and facing him directly. "If you had been able to take out two simple fucking feral ghouls, we wouldn't be having this problem!" Brick roared. Flattening my ears to my head, I pushed some thought through the red anger bleeding into my vision. Brick was shifting anger onto me and Lyrical, anger that...

With a flash of insight, I saw what the problem was. I unpinned my ears and reset my stance, shaking the tension out of each leg before planting it back on the floor. Blinky hissed in agitation over my shoulder, and I took a moment to nuzzle him into grumbling calmness. When I'd finished with Blinky, I turned back to Brick. I felt calmer and confident as I faced the infuriated leader of the Talons.

"You know, Brick.. I'm not sure what your problem is. But it isn't me. It isn't Lyrical, or even what happened to Chalice. And you'd better deal with it before it gets somepony else killed or wo-"

I was interrupted by a scream. I catapulted into motion, whirling away from Brick and throwing myself into a flat gallop. That scream had been Lyrical's, and it had come from behind. I dodged and weaved my way through the stone teeth, pelting towards the whimpering cries that had followed the screaming.

I passed around the last stone between me and the water, and ran into the source of the panic. Lyrical was running away from the water, and our collision sent us both to the floor in a tangle of legs and pony, Blinky sailing through the air like a startled shot from a catapult. I ended up on my face, legs tangled up with Lyrical, and her tail draped over my face.

"Lyrical, are you OK?"

"M-m-monster!" Lyrical gasped, scrambling off of me. I closed my eyes as her tail drug off of my face. Her frantic hoofbeats drummed off into the distance. I heaved a sigh and sorted myself out. I was unharmed, really, though one of my leg guards had been knocked loose. I tugged at the piece of armor, grumbling when I saw that a buckle had broken. I worried the leg guard off and tucked it into a saddlebag, then turned with a huff to see where Blinky had ended up. Lyrical had a case of the scareds, Blinky was probably on a rock that looked like a ghoul, or a skeleton covered in the white rock film.

That wasn't the case. I stood frozen in shock, staring at the fleshy pink abomination holding my pet Molerat. It had Blinky wrapped in a pair of tentacles, holding him level with two bulging eyes.

"Aren't you just the cutest wittle critter, aren't you?" It cooed, stroking Blinky's bullet-shaped head with a third tentacle. I slowly drew Stickbird, trying to keep my eyes on the vaugely pony-shaped thing. I fumbled as it came free of its holster, and my weapon dropped to the floor with a clang. "Eeek!"

"Aaagh!" I replied.

"Eeeeee-blrlbrlblbl!" the creature squeaked, disappearing into the water. Only a pair of eyes remained above the surface, staring at me.

"Blinky!" I yelled, lunging forward. The creature responded with another terrified squeak, and a pair of tentacles shot up, depositing a soaking wet and coughing Blinky on the shore. I skidded to a stop next to the dripping molerat, nuzzling him as he shook off the worst of the water and coughed himself out.  I knelt next to him and cradled him against my chest, holding him while he shivered. I considered the eyes still watching me from the water. They blinked, one after the other. I blinked. We sat at an impasse, staring at each other, until Gnash fluttered in from above, landing with a skittering of claws on rock.  As he touched down, the eyes disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a swiftly disappearing ripple on the surface of the water.

"What the hell was that, kid?" Gnash said, his voice unsteady.

"It had..  tentacles. It liked Blinky." I replied, none too steady myself.

The rest of the Talons showed up shortly thereafter, Engineer ushering Lyrical with him. The little unicorn was tucked under one of Engineer's wings, just the tip of her muzzle and one eye showing. The two squads of front liners filtered through the columns of stone, pairing off on the edge of the water. I noticed each pair with their weapons drawn or readied, one of them facing towards the water, one away. Blinky shivered in my loose grasp, and I held him closer to my chest.

Brick came up behind me, Gnash and Windy flanking him. The lead team of Talons stopped quietly, and Brick walked slowly next to me.

"What did you see?" Brick asked, his tone low.

"Lyrical was running from something. I saw it for a few moments. It had lots of tentacles, but it took care of Blinky.. It wasn't violent."

"Did you talk to it?"

"Not really. I yelled Blinky's name when I saw that she had him, and she was talking to Blinky. I never talked to her, not exactly." Brick grunted in response, and stood silently in thought. Blinky stopped shivering, and made a ratty grunt of contentment. I lifted him up, and turned to pass him off to Lyrical. She stretched her head out from under Engineer's wing to grasp the molerat. "Keep an eye on him?" I asked. Lyrical nodded in response, and tucked herself back under Engineer's protective wing. I turned and stalked past Brick, who matched my glare with a raised eyebrow.

I walked to the edge of the water and knelt. I stared into the still surface, willing the shape of the.. monster to come into view. The beams of light from the starshell glared on the water, blocking any chance I had of seeing into the pool. I turned my head this way and that, trying to see past the light, but nothing availed. Immediately off to my left, Burns was facing into the cave, tucked in tight on Squirt's left side. Squirt was facing the pool, guns at the ready, slowly looking back and forth.

"Hey, Squirt – can you put a light spell on the door?" I asked. Squirt shot a glance behind me, I assumed at Brick, then nodded. A ball of light gathered on his horn, then sailed across the end of the cavern to cling to the door.

The more direct and consistent light of Squirt's spell shone through the water, allowing me to see into the sunken realm. Under the gently rippling surface, the sandy floor was dotted with rusted shells of barrels, flakes of bright paint surrounding rusted hulks. The door proved to extend well below the surface of the water, and one corner of it was bent or rusted away. There was a small pile of barrels on the floor near that corner, and a glint of motion gave away watching eyes underneath it. I focused on the faint hint of motion, feeling the return gaze lock on to mine.

I slowly reached a hoof up and waved. From deep within the crude pile of barrels, a smooth pink tentacle slowly extended, and waved back. I smiled, big and broad as I could while keeping my lips together. I stopped waving and gently placed my hoof on the surface of the water, slowly reaching underneath. The creature stopped waving as well, and slowly extended that tentacle, reaching out towards me. The tentacle came surprisingly close, but didn't reach the full 8 or so lengths between us. I stretched my hoof as far as I could, then relaxed it and frowned. The pink tentacle retracted into the piled barrels, then the whole creature emerged from its shelter.

The creature was pink, but a lighter, softer pink than Todger's sharp coloration. There were no legs attached to the thing's torso, but four seperate clusters of tentacles, long and strong. The smooth tentacles churned sinuously, pushing the slender body through the water surprisingly quickly. The creature looked female, slender curves defining her face and shoulders. Further tentacles sprung from her lips, mane, tail, even along her backbone. Only her eyes escaped, shining vivid red above the fringe of delicate tentacles at her face.

She paused several lengths away, her red eyes just above the surface of the water, her tentacles waving gracefully. I smiled again, and drifted my hoof forward, under the water. She extended one tentacle slowly, and gently wrapped it around my sumberged hoof. There was a crystal moment of clarity then, the alien almost-pony shape of the aquatic, tentacled creature joined in an embrace with my boringly normal earth-pony self. I could feel the tension humming in the air as I softly pulled the tentacle towards me. The soft pink form drifted nearer, gently slipping through the water on a cloud of waving tentacles.

As she drew nearer, I held on to her tentacle, grasping it gently. A blush crested on her pink cheeks as she approached, and I could feel the Talons quiveringly tense behind me.

"Hi." I said, grinning broadly.

"H-hello." She replied. The fringe of slender tentacles descending from her head flowed forward to hide one eye, just like Lyrical often hid behind her mane. "Are you a real pony?"

"A real pony?" I asked in return.

"I haven't seen anypony in so long, except in dreams.. " She replied. A second tentacle slipped out of the water and stroked the side of my face. I reached up with my other hoof and gently grasped the tentacle I was still holding. The tentacle was smooth and furred, like normal pony hide on a long flexible leg. There was a tiny stub of hoof on the tip of it, clean and well kept.

"No, I'm real. We're real. I'm Wicky – Wicked Cut. What's your name?"

"I don't remember... I think I had one, before."

"Before?"

"Before.. I'm not sure what happened. Everything got scary. I came here. The barrels hurt me." She said, sadly. Pulling her tentacle out of my hooves, she held a bunch of them up in front of her, staring at them sadly. "I got these. I used to have just.. four legs. Like you."

She hesitantly extended a tentacle back to me, and I gathered it up, holding it gently. I heard hoofsteps, and Lyrical knelt next to me. She stretched her neck forward and dropped Blinky, who snuffed his way towards the water's edge. Another tentacle slid out of the water, stroking the molerat gently on his wrinkly head.

"You don't remember your name?" Lyrical asked sadly. The pink once-pony shook her head slowly.

"No. I don't remember anything before pain and rainbows. Then this." She said, waving four tentacles. "I haven't had a name since."

"That's horrible!" Lyrical gasped. "Everypony has to have a name!"

The pink creature shrugged, a wavelike motion of tentacles and shoulders. "I think I had a name once."

Brick stepped forward, murmuring into Lyrical's ear. Lyrical nodded, and Brick stepped back, sitting down behind her. "Would you like a name?" Lyrical asked.

"Yes.. I think I would. Then I would be real.. " She replied, drifting closer to the shore.

"Oh, honey.. " Lyrical crooned, reaching forward to stroke the tentacled pony's cheek. "You're already real." The pink tentacle pony blushed bright red, and Lyrical laughed. "And there's a name for you, you blush like the sun coming up, you can be Sunrise."

Sunrise froze, her only motion one tentacle tip idly rubbing Blinky's head. Her eyes drifted shut and she smiled broadly. "Oh I like that. I have a name!" She cried, tears squeezing from her shut eyes. Lyrical pushed forward to embrace her, and the two girls laughed and cried, hugging each other.

I kept my attention outwardly focused on the emotional scene playing out in front of me, but my mind was whirling, trying to figure out the reasons behind Brick's strange behavior from earlier. The Talon leader had been confident and professional, even friendly, up until now. Nothing had changed after Chalice died, not until one of the griffins on Brick's squad, probably Windy, had gone back up with the latest report.

What did it say about the Talons relationship with the Eggheads here that one report could rattle Brick that badly? Did that mean the Eggheads were in the wrong? Or the Talons? I was confused and uncertain, the confidence I'd had at being associated and respected by these warriors wavering and unsteady. I knelt, lost in thought, as Lyrical chattered with Sunrise, both of them playing with Blinky. Behind us, the Talons drifted one by one out of the defensive posture they had first assumed. Eventually, Brick and Engineer were the only Talons left.

Lyrical sat smiling, watching as Sunrise made her elegant way through the water to the pile of barrels she called home, going to fetch a sea shell that had come through the hole in the door. Brick coughed unexpectedly, and I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, both of you." Brick rumbled quietly. Engineer shot him a raised eyebrow glance, and me and Lyrical both turned to look at him. The burly unicorn seemed uncomfortable under our combined gazes, and dropped his eyes to his hooves momentarily, before meeting our stare. "I was out of line. It's not your fault or your problem that the leadership of the Eggheads is trying to play silly buggers with the contract terms."

I paused at that, formulating a reply, but Lyrical needed no such preparation. Pushing herself to her hooves, she walked forward and leaned against Brick's shoulder. "It's OK, I forgive you." She said quietly.

Brick blinked in jaw-dropped surprise, and Lyrical smiled brightly at him before turning back to the shore. I shrugged, finding my own voice. "I guess the same applies to me, Brick. It makes sense now, at least."

We sat quietly after that, us three males watching the girls talk and play with Blinky. Brick replaced Squirt's light spell with another starshell, and I watched fascinated as he poured magic into the arcane device. The brief period of rest was ended by the arrival of Gnash, landing in a flutter of wings and click of talons on stone.

"The eggheads are here. Squad one is back up on the first floor with one group of them, Squad two is on the turbine floor with another. The leaders are coming here, they want to meet.. her." Gnash said. Lyrical flipped an ear at him in irritation. Sunrise, for her part, slid back into the water until only her eyes and muzzle were above the surface.

"Her name is Sunrise." Lyrical stated, drawing a raised eyebrow from the griffin. "She's a very nice girl."

"Ahhh, OK. Sunrise. I'll go tell the Eggheads." Gnash replied, taking off in a flurry of feathers. Lyrical turned back to Sunrise, who was looking between the rest of us nervously.

"So many ponies... who want to meet me?" She asked nervously.

"They are the leaders of my herd, Sunrise. It'll be OK, they just want to talk." Lyrical replied, gently stroking one of Sunrise's leg-tentacles.

"OK.. maybe for a little bit. But will you stay here? Both of you?" Sunrise asked, including me in her question.

"Of course I will, Sunrise!" I offered cheerfully. Lyrical nodded, and with a sigh, Sunrise came forward again, hoisting her torso onto the land. I was struck by how ungainly and wrong she looked when she was on land, her tentacles not quite strong enough to operate correctly outside of the supportive embrace of water.

The arrival of the Eggheads, Curled Scroll coming directly to the water's edge with his assistant Penny, sped things up. After the initial shock of the monstrous Sunrise being introduced as a pony passed, Penny and Curled Scroll were full of questions. Between Sunrise's vague memories and Lyrical's adept interpretations and deductions, we were able to prove to Curled Scroll's satisfaction that the Lunarium, or Starmetal, in this unique environment, was able to neutralize Taint.

Arcane showed up shortly after we had come to that conclusion, and he went into close conference with Curled Scroll, sparing nothing more than a glance for Sunrise and a 'well done' for Lyrical. I ignored the higher-ups from the Egghead contingent, telling Sunrise a story about Blinky falling asleep in my food. I couldn't help overhearing, though, and their conversation made me nervous. Sunrise was a 'problem' for them, and would keep them from putting this place 'into production.'

Sunrise herself didn't seem to hear any of this, thankfully. I stayed with her and Lyrical after the Eggheads left, arguing amongst themselves. Our conversation drifted aimlessly, Sunrise endlessly curious about our lives away from the lake. She could make it outside through the door, but it was difficult and uncomfortable, so she avoided it. Fish and occasional sea weeds made up her normal diet. I was just reaching out to boop Sunrise on the nose in the midst of a yawn when Squirt rounded one of the pillars, trotting into our little grotto. Coming to a stop, he waved his Pipbuck-encased leg at us.

"Hey folks, it's getting on towards nightfall. Shall we call it an evening?"

We put deed to word, saying our goodbyes to Sunrise. Squirt magicked at the star shell adhered over the door and it shut off, the faint hum of its operation dying away. I gave Sunrise a hug, as did Lyrical, before the soft pink pony monster flowed her graceful way back to the barrel pile she called home. The spring was back in Lyrical's step as we trotted around the pillars. Todger fell in with the three of us as we paused at the bottom of the stairwell to let Squirt shut down the star shell lighting the area.

I kept my attention on Lyrical as we made our way up the stairs and through the dark and quiet turbine room. There had been some first cleanup attempts, leaving the path clear of debris and chunks of dead ghoul. Lyrical's mood darkened as we approached the 'B2' floor, where Chalice had fallen. I stuck close to her side as we made our way up the final staircase, and with a sigh of relief, I saw that somepony had cleared the aftermath of combat. The bodies and rubble were all gone, leaving only some dark stains on the floor. Burns was waiting in the elevator room, playing at cards. As we walked into the room, he swept the cards up in a flicker of magic.

"Hey guys. You all done downstairs?" Burns said, tucking his cards into a pocket of his rubbery protective suit.

"For tonight, anyway, Mr. Burns." Lyrical replied. "You should come down tomorrow and meet Sunrise, she's quite sweet."

"So I've been told, so I've been told." Burns replied, pushing the button on the elevator. The door slid open and we packed in, the five of us filling the space. Burns hit the button for the top floor, and we whisked back to the well lit safety of the Talons bunk area.

It was a big change, for me. I kept falling back into 'combat mode', ears up and alert, twitching at the noises and motions of the Talons and Eggheads moving around the public space. The group of students I had met at the breakfast table had swept Lyrical away, and I was more or less alone.

The first room off the elevator was barred, Four-claw leaning against it. I hastened past, stopping at the second room to shed my armor and store my weapon. I still didn't have a key to the footlocker here, so armor and weapon both went on the bunk. Blinky followed, and swiftly returned to his natural rest state. This evening, that meant 'curled up and snoring on my pillow', apparently.

I was still jumpy as I trotted downstairs and stuck my head into the bathroom on the first floor. Finding it empty, I got the hot water running and started scrubbing. My head felt stuffed with thoughts and worries. The day had been very strange, on any number of levels. Starting from the top, I had gotten somepony killed due to my own lack of fighting ability. Sure, I wasn't trying to set myself up as a Great Warrior, but two ferals..

Of course, Lyrical and Chalice hadn't been able to take care of a single feral on their own, which did put things in a different light. I pondered on that as I worked the soapy foam into my mane, dirt and blood running into the floor drain. I wasn't a fighter, a warrior like the Talons. I wasn't an intellectual like the Eggheads. I didn't know what I was, but with the image of Chalice ripped open stuck in my head, I felt like a failure. I poked at that feeling as I switched from washing to rinsing, suds pushing the last of the blood into the floor drain. I had failed, technically speaking. But that didn't make me a failure.

Or did it?

I stopped thinking. I wasn't getting anywhere chewing on this by myself. The trick would be to get clean, get fed, and talk to someone I could respect. Engineer was still on that list, even with his silly name. Brick wasn't, which was a shock. I didn't have more information now than when it had happened, but the way he had treated Lyrical, treated someone he was supposed to protect, had bothered me.

With an effort of willpower, I pushed that line of thinking out of my head as well, and concentrated on cleaning. Shortly, I was working a towel around myself and drying off. Just getting the grime of ages and the salt of the lake off of me helped. I felt almost fluffy once I finished. I cleaned up the soap and towels I had used, and headed back out – maybe the cafeteria had some food, and -

The door opened as I neared it, and Lyrical was on the other side of it, tears streaming down her face as the door wobbled in the uncertain grip of her magic.

"W-wicked, they're going to make me leave!" She cried, and suddenly I had my forelegs full of sobbing unicorn filly.

Footnote: Level Up! Skill upgrade – Melee +8 (60), Guns +3 (18), Speech +5 (41)

Companion Perk: A Clever Pony: Lyrical Thesis is trained in the deductive and analytical arts. This provides +1 chance to solve puzzles, traps, and intellectual challenges.

Level Perk: Awareness (L4): Examining a target shows hitpoints, weapon and ammunition count.

Lyrical Thesis: Level Up! Skill Upgrade - Guns +3 (30), Science +7 (49), Survival +6 (20)

Level Perk: Cautious Nature: +3 to PER during random encounters.

Afterword:

Three cheers for dental problems, automotive problems, and the support of friends! I am self-medicating for pain and lung suffering with black tea and IRC. Life doesn't get much better than this.

All props to my pre-readers and those who give me advice – at this point, the list is Too Damn Long, but Arcane_Scroll, volrathxp, Snow, and our freshly minted pornographer WiggleJiggleSquiggle float to the top.

Come join the chat on #FalloutEquestria, on canternet!

Chapter Eight: On the Turning Away

Lyrical broke down in tears, shaking as I held her. She was still wearing the Talon barding and saddlebags, still spattered in blood and bits of gore. I laid my head along her neck, ignoring the sweat-and-blood stench, and embraced her with all my strength while she cried herself out.

Her tears trailed off, and I guided her gently to the sink I had used to wash. When I released her, she plopped to the ground in a sloppy sit, her front legs slowly buckling until she lay flat on the clean, worn tiles. I wet a washrag with as hot of water as I dared, and began wiping away the tears and sweat from her face. Her eyes slid closed, fresh tears pushing out to run down her delicate cheeks.

I rinsed the washrag out until the water didn't run pink, and resumed scrubbing. Lyricals ears were soft and neat, undamaged and unscarred. I rinsed the rag again and dabbed at her closed eyes and nose, as gently as I could. She sighed as I reached the tip of her nose, and inhaled a droplet of water. The recoil from the sneeze pushed her back to a sitting posture, and I couldn't hide my broad grin as she wiped at her nose with a forehoof.

"What?" She asked blearily.

"You just looked so much like my sister, then." I replied, fighting to keep my grin under control. I turned away to rinse the washrag, leaving it draped over the edge of the sink. Lyrical was blinking at me in surprise as I tapped one of her forelegs. "Lift"

She lifted that foreleg, and I undid that buckle, then repeated the manuever with the other side. Thus unclipped, I was able to wiggle the heavy plated overcoat back and off of her. I tossed the gore-spattered armor into a corner, making a mental note to return it later. Lyrical had managed to pull the stretchy undergarment forward enough to foul both her front legs and her horn, and balanced awkwardly on her hind legs. I nipped a fold of the stretchy sweater and pulled, firmly. The black sheathe released it's stretchy hold on Lyrical and sprung into my face with a thwap. Lyrical's giggles were a joyful sound as I hoofed the wadded fabric off my face to plop onto the armor in the corner.

I gave a heavy sigh as I turned back to Lyrical, exaggerating the droop of my ears. "Why do all the women in my life laugh at me." I hammed, returning to the sink. This merited an actual laugh, and I couldn't restrain my smile as I turned back with the freshly wetted washrag. Lyrical knelt down, smiling now, and closed her eyes again as I continued washing her.

"Tell me about your sister." Lyrical asked quietly.

"Well, her name is Dawn Hope." I said, scrubbing gently. "She's not really my sister, not by blood, but we're all the family she has now, me and my father."

"An orphan, then?" Lyrical asked, her eyes drifting shut under my ministrations.

"Yep. We came out of the Wasteland through a mountain pass. Her mother just.. froze."

"That's cold."

"Well, they say not to speak ill of the dead..."

"I see... " Lyrical murmured, as I switched to a hoofbrush and began working on her gore encrusted forehooves. "So what about Dawn?"

"Dawn is everything her mother wasn't. She's kind, helpful, generous. The only thing she has in common with her mom is that she hogs the bacon."

"That bacon thing is so weird." Lyrical said in that warm slow tone. "I've never met a pony that wasn't a raider that liked meat so much."

"Well... " I said, trailing off. I couldn't think of a way to explain what we had deduced, back in Our Tacksworn. With a mental shrug, I just grabbed the bit in my teeth and barreled ahead, conversationally speaking. "Actually, in a certain sense of the term, I am a raider. Give me the other forehoof."

Lyrical frowned, but complied, and I began working my way around the outside of that hoof. The hoofbrush was in good condition, and the soft colors of her hoof soon shone through as the grime and damage, the minor scratches anypony picks up bashing around the Wasteland, polished away.

"That doesn't make sense, Wicked. You're kind, gentle. You speak like you're at least fairly intelligent. I've seen raiders before... they... aren't really ponies anymore." She said, her brow wrinkled in concentration. I gently tilted her forehoof up and switched to the pick on the back of the brush, working at a tiny pebble lodged in her frog.

"Like I said.. certain sense of the term. What causes a raider?" I asked.

"That's... a very good question, actually. I had assumed it was just when a pony went bad." Lyrical offered, her eyes open now and focussed on my face. I ignored her gaze and concentrated on her hoof, smoothing a jagged nick in the hoofwall with the edge of the pick.

"We think it's an illness. At least some times." I paused, scooting down Lyrical's body and tapping one of her rear hooves, which she extended backwards modestly. The smell of soap and clean pony filled my nostrils as I moved. "Most times, I see an entire group of raiders, five, six ponies.. almost always, they're not ponies, they're just pony-shaped evil."

"Oh, that's an elegant phrase."

"Accurate, too. That's most times. But then you get some that are just... a little crazy, or a little overwhelmed. What we do, when we can, is overwhelm them, say five or six to one. You'd have to be mad, pure crazy, to keep fighting against those odds. We demand that they lay down arms so they can survive."

"What happens then?" Lyrical asked.

"Most die." I replied. "but sometimes you get one that just lays down and surrenders. We're not sure, not really, but we think they aren't totally vulnerable to the sickness. Other hoof."

Lyrical made a low grumbling thinky sort of sound, familiar from when she was working the log books in the shed. I kept quiet as I finished her hooves, then went to the sink to fill a bucket with hot water. A little soap in the water, and I poked her to get her attention as I brought it back.

"Close your eyes."

She complied, and I poured the bucket over her head, sloshing hot soapy water over her head and down her back. She blew her nose clear as I picked up the brush and started scrubbing, working thick lather through her mane. The hot water and suds did their magic, and the splatters of blood and chunks of gore washed out as a brown stain in the water. I had to go back for another bucket to get to a mostly ‘clean’ state.

"It's all guesswork and thinking, though. Something we're not that good at, to be honest." I said, working the thickening lather out to the ends of Lyrical's mane. "I love my people, I love my hometown, but we're just.. Tribals."

We sat in quiet for a while, Lyrical making contended noises as I massaged her scalp. I drew another bucket of hot water and rinsed her clean. I sat brushing the out her mane, gently teasing the tangles out of the restored green brightness.

"I don't understand the difference. I mean, what's... well, you said that you were kicked out to 'learn to be a better pony'. What's involved with that? How do you know when you're 'a better pony'?" Lyrical asked, frustration plain in her voice.

"That's part of the problem. I don't know. I think.. well, it's about survival, really. Our Tacksworn isn't survivable. We've got plenty of ponies... I know of two mares that were pregnant when I left, but who are the kids going to be?"

"What do you mean who are they going to be?" Lyrical asked, subsiding as I rinsed her mane out and began brushing the tangles out. I thought hard on her question, before I answered.

"Well, say a mare has a foal, a healthy young Earth Pony buck. What's that foal going to do? He can farm, he can guard, or he can… nothing. There's no opportunity in Our Tacksworn, no freedom of choice. There's so little to do in life, so little the town has to offer. That's what's going to kill us. Not Raiders, not the Wasteland… we're just going to die on the vine, like a plant with nowhere to grow."

I finished talking as I finished brushing, and Lyrical pushed herself to her hooves, staring into my eyes for a long moment before turning to the mirror above the sink. "I hadn't realized how dirty I had gotten being in those ruined areas, Wicked, thank you." She said quietly. Floating a towel out of the cabinet, she blotted her coat and mane dry, silent and pensive. I busied myself putting my belongings back in order, mane brush, hoof brush, all my bathroom kit. I finished that, and cleaned up what little mess we had left, before Lyrical turned away from the mirror to face me.

"For what it's worth, I think you've got the problem halfway beat. You understand what's wrong, even if you don't have a solution, yet." Lyrical said confidently. "Since… since I'm leaving the Collegiate anyway… I could go with you and help." She said, her confident stance shifting in an instant as she looked away. I tossed my saddlebags on and stepped next to her, laying my head across her neck.

"I would be honored and delighted to have you with me.. let's get our armor cleaned and then go somewhere less bathroomy and talk about it."

"Ok."

And that was that. We finished up and left the bathroom, but we didn't make it far. Engineer was back where I had first seen him, fiddling with the terminal the front counter. He looked up when the bathroom door opened, and waved lazily.

"Hey you two. All shiny clean now, eh?" He asked jovially.

"Yes sir, I thought I'd take advantage of the hot water.. before I had to leave. " Lyrical replied sadly, staring at the floor and dragging a forehoof. Engineer shot me a raised eyebrow, which I responded to with a shrug.

"That's as far as we got. She wanted to talk about my hometown instead." I said. "Lyrical, can you explain? Why are they kicking you out?" I asked, walking with her behind the counter. I hopped up on a seat next to Engineer, glancing at the incomprehensible gibberish on the terminal. Lyrical pulled herself into a seat next to me and pillowed her head on her forelegs, letting out a quiet groan.

"The Trottingham folks are all angry about Chalice, they claim it was my fault, that I 'influenced her into unsafe behaviors'." Lyrical ground out, anger and shame warring in her voice. I gently laid my hoof across her withers, trying to support her as best I could with the simple physical contact.

"That's... curious… " Engineer said hesitantly, switching his gaze from my face to Lyrical's inert form. "From what I overheard, they were blaming the Talons for her loss."

"That agrees with what Brick said down below." I agreed. Lyrical snorted in disgust.

"Sure, that's the tactic that coward Curled Scroll is using to try and get the blame out of the Collegiate house. But there's still enough left to get him to agree to 'send me back for retraining'." She said bitterly. I started rubbing her withers, and she let out her breath in a slow sigh.

"Do.. do they expect you to go alone?" I asked hesitantly. Engineer's feathered eyebrows shot up.

"They haven't said for sure, but that means yes. They can't extend or alter the Talons contract when they're trying to break that same contract. Good ‘Ol Curly is dancing like his hooves are on fire, and he's messing up everything." Lyrical ground out, tensing at the frustration evident in her voice. I traded a look with Engineer, a swift return of inquiry and assent.

"Isn't the Collegiate compound past Shattered Hoof?" Engineer asked, a griffin grin splitting his beak. I blinked in puzzlement at him, and felt Lyrical grow still under my hoof.

"Yesssss…?" She said.

"Well, I've got to go back there in any case. I've got to drag Hellen back to the Hoof, and Squirt was going to accompany me.. you two should come with."

I felt my jaw drop open. It sounded like a wonderful idea, even if it meant I'd have to be around Hellen. I was trying to verbalize a response when Lyrical jolted erect, turning to put a hoof on my shoulder.

"What about Sunrise?" She asked urgently, and my face fell. How could we leave the innocent pony alone like that? She had just met other ponies, after who knew how long.

"I had forgotten about her… we can't leave her all alone down there." I said. "She just met other ponies for the first time, we just can't…"

I trailed off, thinking furiously. I felt pulled between two mutually exclusive desires, and I couldn't follow either without hurting the other. I stifled a yawn, which set off both Lyrical and Engineer, and we shared a small laugh.

"I think we should sleep on it." The griffin offered. "After a good night's rest, all things may be possible." Engineer concluded, clambering off of his seat. "And I'm going to match deed with word. Goodnight, you two."

We said our goodbyes and Engineer moseyed off towards the stairs. I went to climb off my seat as well, intending to follow, but Lyrical stopped me with a hoof on my shoulder.

"Wicked… I… I don't want to go back to the student bunkrooms tonight. Can I stay with you, please?" She asked hesitantly. I felt my ears go hot as I fumbled for a reply. "Just to sleep." She added hastily, her own blush rising.

"Of – of course." I managed. "But Blinky snores." My reply got a giggle out of her, and we walked up the stairs together. When I opened the door to the room I had been assigned, Todger's curtain whisked open. Seeing me and Lyrical, his eyebrows shot up, and he shook his head before motioning for silence with a hoof pressed to his lips. I nodded, and as quietly as I could, I pulled my armor and weapon off of my bunk, stacking them at the foot of the bed. Lyrical’s gear stacked with mine, and I hopped up onto the bunk where she was sleepily petting blinky. A bit of maneuvering and shuffling later, and I dozed off to sleep, gently touching Lyrical's hoof where it rested on Blinky's sleeping form.

Morning was chaos, refined and distilled. We were awoken by the door being bucked open again, which startled everyone on my bunk. I thought I was going to be able to stay on the bunk this time, but Blinky complicated things by digging his claws into my hide to launch himself at the door, snarling in anger. I yelped in pain and tried to roll out from under the charging molerat, to find myself in mid-air again. A magic aura surrounded me, stopping my fall. I looked up to see Four-claw in the doorway, smirking at me. Blinky spun slowly in his magic field as well, looking as sheepish as a molerat could.

"Up and at 'em, it's another fine day in the Talons!" Four-claw said cheerfully, dropping me to the floor. I scrambled to my hooves just in time to catch Blinky. Lyrical's giggles made me blush to the tips of my ears, and I glared at the molerat before tossing him back up onto the bunk.

I wrapped my tattered dignity about myself as best I could while trying to get my armor on. Lyrical tugged my long straps in place with her magic, and I buckled myself in. I helped Lyrical into the snug understocking of her Talon armor, and buckled the barding over it. Dressed and armored, I tossed Blinky onto my back and we trotted off to the cafeteria. The older eggheads were arguing at their table, almost growling in low hostile voices. The Talons were as far away from that table as they could be. Their lowered heads and flickering ears showed all of the Talons paying close attention to the argument at the head of the room. Lyrical drooped at the sight, and I nudged her to a table, where she collapsed onto a bench with a sigh.

I paid attention as I moseyed towards the counter. The angry voices of the egghead leadership got loud enough to understand, as Arcane surged to his hooves, shoving the table and the bench apart. "I'm glad that this is just a normal day for you, 'Curly', but one of my students is dead – that is not acceptable!" The light grey unicorn shouted, storming out of the cafeteria. As he passed Lyrical, he stopped, and I tensed. Thankfully, he just glared at her, his jaw working but no words coming out. With a shake of his head, he stormed out of the cafeteria, Lyrical following his departure with a stricken look on her face.

I shook myself and turned back to the order counter at the head of the cafeteria. The same plump mare was back at the counter, and I gave her a small smile as I indicated Lyrical. "I'm ordering for two, today. I'll have more hay fries and a steak bacon egg fryup, And a plate of hay fries and pancakes for Lyrical, please."

The mare silently dished up my food, glancing back at the Egghead's table repeatedly. As I took the last plate and balanced it on my back, Blinky bracing it with a paw, she hesitantly drew breath to speak. I paused, giving her a questioning look.

"Do you know what the Collegiates are arguing about?" She asked softly. I leaned forward and replied, just as soft.

"Chalice died in the tunnels. Apparently, Arcane is more upset about it than anypony else. I think there's something else going on, but I'm not sure what." I replied. The mare's eyes went wide, and she delicately covered a gasp with a forehoof.

"Arcane's been ranting about responsibility and consequences all morning, and he got here early." She whispered. "He's furious and he's gonna make someone pay for it."

"Lyrical." I responded. The mare nodded, and with a grim nod I turned back to the table. I set Blinky on the table and started doling out plates. I had my steak 'n eggs, Lyrical her pancakes, and the sweet mare had included a plate of fried potatoes for Blinky, which he dove into with gusto.

I followed suit, loading up on wonderful steak and delicious hay fries for the day. I had a suspicion that Lyrical was going to be leaving soon, and I was going to be going with her. I chewed on that thought, that sudden determination. Where had this come from? I finished the steak and began on the eggs, the familiar homey taste sparking fresh lines of thought. Lyrical was the only person here, aside from Engineer, that didn't treat me like a child. The Talons, a group I had considered joining, considered signing up with. They considered me less than a raw recruit, untrained and ignorant. They were right, really, but it still irritated. The Eggheads seemed to think I was a joke, a curiousity – look at the dancing raider!

Lyrical hadn't thought I was a curiosity, hadn't grilled me on my hometown or my abilities in combat. She was more closed-mouth than me, I realized, but there was still more give and take in our conversations, in our relationship, than with anyone else here.

Except, I realized with a snort, Hellen. There had been plenty of give and take there!

"What's up, Wicked?" Lyrical asked, pushing her half-eaten pancakes away.

"I just realized. You're the only pony here who doesn't treat me like a child. Except for Hellen, and she tried to kill me."

Lyrical stared at me, her eyes wide. I could almost hear the click as her brain engaged, and see the whirring as her mind caught up with her ears. "Kill you?" She said hesitantly.

I nodded happily. "It worked out, in the end. But it's true – aside from you and her, everyone here thinks I'm just a... child."

"But your quest?" Lyrical asked. I spread my hooves in exasperation.

"I know, right? This isn't the kind of thing you send a child on. Sure, there's a lot of coming-of-age flavor, but.. agh!" I threw my hooves up, and returned to my eggs. Lyrical giggled, and pulled her pancakes back to her with fresh appetite. We finished our breakfasts in a happier silence, paying no mind to the grumblings coming from the egghead table.

I returned the plates to the counter, trading smiles with the lovely mare there. On my way back, I saw Lyrical staring at the upper table, a scowl locked on her face. Blinky was sprawled on his back, fast asleep after demolishing his potatoes. I busied myself arranging the snoring lump in the hollow of my shoulders, where he would be stable and secure. When I finished, I turned to Lyrical, who was still fixated on the table Curled Scroll and the other upper class Eggheads occupied, arguing and chattering over a leisurely breakfast. With a determined snort, she thumped a hoof on the table, and pushed herself off the bench.

"Wicked, last night you said that we, you and me, should go with Engineer to Shattered Hoof. Does that hold true even if it's just you and me?" She asked, her face intent on Curled Scroll.

"Absolutely." I said immediately. Lyrical shot me a look of such pleased gratitude that I could only smile in response. "You're the only person here who takes me seriously. I like you, and I think I'm done here. Aside from Sunrise... I'm ready to leave."

"They're going to kick me out. Arcane's going to want me out because of... Chalice. Curly's not going to fight him, he doesn't value anything except avoiding conflict. My 'peers' think I'm crazy because I want to see what's out there..." Lyrical trailed off, glaring at the upper table.

"Sunrise." I said, sitting next to her. Lyrical shot a baffled look at me, horrified realization dawning on her face. I nodded grim agreement.

"There's no way for her to leave. There's no way for me, at least, to stay. There is no solution to this that satisfies all needs." Lyrical said flatly, returning her gaze to Curled Scroll. "Does this change things for you?" She asked.

"Not really. I want to say goodbye to her, and I'll miss her, but there's nothing to be gained from staying here. And there's a lot of reasons to leave."

"OK. OK. I can... OK. " Lyrical said, pumping herself up. "Back me up."

"Of course." I said, clambering back to my hooves. "Curly first, I take it?"

"Yeah." Lyrical replied, biting the word off. She lurched into motion, her stiff gait taking us to the upper table. Curled Scroll interrupted his speech to turn a bland, shuttered gaze on Lyrical.

"Yes, young lady?" Curled asked, staring down his nose at Lyrical. I bristled at the snooty tone, but held my peace.

Lyrical snorted, taking a confident square stance, and looked the administrator directly in the face. Taking a deep breath, she drew her head high.

There was a moment of silence. It held long enough for everyone in the room to take notice. Lyrical's eyes blazed with determination.

Then she blinked and sighed, deflating from her confident stance. "You know, it's not even worth it. I quit. Goodbye." She said. With a flippant wave of a hoof, she turned and strode out of the cafeteria. I hastened to follow, shooting a glance at the stunned Curly over my shoulder. Lyrical led the way back to the bunk we had shared that morning, silent and subdued. She nosed the door open and walked into the room, staring silently at the floor between the bunks. I loitered by the door, unsure of what was needed, of what was going on here. Blinky rolled off my back with a thump and a grunt, and trundled his way across the floor. Stopping in front of Lyrical, he stretched up and patted her nose with one clawed paw.

It seemed to snap her out of whatever had held her, and she plopped onto the floor, nuzzling the molerat. I walked up next to her and sat myself, leaning into her. We sat for long minutes, Blinky being more affectionate than I had ever seen him, before Lyrical gave me a quick nuzzle and stood up.

"That was easier than I thought.. the tough part comes now, I guess."

"Yeah. We've got to talk to Sunrise, and we really should talk to Engineer before we go."

Lyrical nodded in assent, and we collected the last of our belongings before leaving the bunkroom. Our late arrival had allowed us to keep our weaponry, and I felt a lot better with Stickbird back on my armor where it belonged. Lyrical eyed the 9mm she had been issued with a disgusted look on her face, but cleared and safed the weapon with a brisk confidence, checking the pockets in her armor for ammo.

"This thing sucks." Lyrical said, holstering the weapon and snapping it into place.

"We'll have to keep our eyes open for upgrades." I offered, holding the door open. Lyrical nodded, trotting into the hallway and heading towards the elevator. I followed her in, pausing to check the armory door, which was unfortunately, locked. Inside the elevator, Lyrical pressed B1, and we dropped away, stopping shortly. The doors opened with a cheery ding, and I looked into a bizarre sight. I recognized it as an office setup, we'd cleaned out more than one of those, but the surfaces were brightly colored, draped with fabrics or painted. In some cases, there were intricate and rich designs painted or stitched into the cloth.

I whistled, long and low, and Lyrical stopped halfway out of the elevator, shooting me a questioning glance. I gestured silently at the room ahead of us, and she took another look at it. Her slow scan took in the whole room, lingering on one particularly intricate piece of decoration or another. She had a wistful smile on her face when she turned back to me, and I must have looked shocked. Lyrical laughed, and stepped back to nudge me with a shoulder.

"We had plenty of time, and decided to dress the place up a bit." She said, almost dancing into the opulent room beyond. I followed, trying to look at everything. Closer in, the draperies and covers revealed themselves to be simple cotton cloth draped over the age-worn cubicle walls and occasional desk. Lyrical led me across the room, past rough nests and beds constructed from office fixtures. Hers was tucked in a back corner of the room, smaller and less decorated than most of the others I had seen. I tossed a glance at a shut door, and followed her into the curtained space. Lyrical headed directly to a pair of suitcases in the corner, popping both of them open with a flick of magic and dumping their contents onto the bed.

"What do you think I should take, Wicked?" She asked, and I nudged up next to her to consider.

The pile of stuff, which Lyrical was sorting and laying flat, was a mixed bunch. Lots of quills and paper, a couple of pre-war pens, erasers and bits and bobs. There was a bunch of candies and nuts twisted into little bundles of plastic, and several books and magazines. Lyrical was already moving things off into separate piles, starting with a worn down teddy bear. I watched as she held it in front of her in her magic, still and quiet, before putting him at the head of the bed and drawing a fold of blanket over him.

I stretched my neck out and gently tugged the ragged bear out from under the blankets, handing him back to Lyrical. "He goes." I said firmly. Lyrical blushed to the base of her nose and took the bear in her magic, tucking him into a saddlebag. I nosed through the rest of her belongings, seperating out the candies and other foods. "These all go." Next was the paper and quills and pens. "As many of these as can go, too."

The only thing left was a short stack of books. It wasn't a lot, as books go, but there was no way they would all fit into a saddlebag. The titles were mostly logic puzzles and philosophies, with a few blank bindings. "These I don't know, but you're going to have to trim the stack down pretty hard, to fit it in your saddlebags. I suggest basic stuff, that's gonna be more widely applicable."

Lyrical nodded, and swiftly shuffled through the books, setting most of them to the head of the bed. One she hesitated over, turning it front to back as she held it in her magic. "Diary." She said flatly. I responded with a 'Hmm', and knelt down next to the bed.

"Keep it. If you can get it to fit." I said finally. Lyrical shot me a grateful look, which I returned with a smile.

The whittled down pile fit handily into Lyrical's saddlebags. Shaking herself, she turned, looking around the former cubicle. "You know, Wicked, we were here for over a month before you showed up." She said conversationally, stepping around me and back into the hallway. "We decorated, we cleaned, we learned everything we could about this place without going downstairs." Nosing by me, she continued. "The Talons sent squads down a couple times, but they couldn't get past the rubble without support, they said." We continued down the winding path back to the elevator, making our way through the nests and bed spaces. Lyrical poked the elevator open with a touch of magic, and we stepped inside. "I just wish you'd gotten here sooner." She said as the door slid shut.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked as we dropped the short distance to the lowest floor. The doors slid open and I peered around the room before trotting out of the elevator. The room was still and empty, the wreckage we had piled up as defensive positions left in the open area. A mop and bucket in one corner explained the missing bloodstains. We made our way to the defensive position where I had failed, where Chalice had been killed by ghouls, senseless appetites with hooves.

"Is it like that everywhere in the Wasteland?" Lyrical asked, hoofing at the dark discoloration that was the only remaining evidence. "I've never.. " She trailed off, heaving a sigh. Tears splatted against the bloody floor.

"Not everywhere. Less and less as time goes by. But it's not a safe place." I said quietly, leaning against Lyrical's still form. "It's.. It's The Wasteland, but we can survive there. We can even thrive there, if we're good, and careful, and lucky."

"So was Chalice bad? Or careless? Or just unlucky?" Lyrical asked, wiping her tears away, and it was my turn to sigh.

"No, no, and, honestly, yes. We did our best to protect her, we did everything we could to save her life, and we failed." I replied sadly. I nudged Lyrical after a long moment, and she shook herself out of her daze and trotted off down the hallway. I hastened to follow, my eyes on her shoulders. I was starting to get worried. Since her encounter with Curled Scroll this morning, Lyrical had been bouncing between extremes of happy and sad, and was starting to not make sense.

I pondered this as we made our way down the long hall towards the descending staircase. I hadn't known Lyrical long, but even on short acquaintance, I could tell this wasn't normal behavior for her. Chalice's death was hurting her at levels she didn't know how to deal with. It reminded me of nothing so much as Dawn's realization that her mother had died, and was never coming back. We had been united as a community to face that, and it had still been rough. Here, now, it was just me and her. In some ways, she was even younger than Dawn, more innocent.

I gulped nervously as we passed through the empty doorway onto the metal catwalks around the turbine room. The doors leaned against the wall next to their frames, and the star shell on the ceiling glowed brightly. The room itself was empty and quiet, the same as when we'd left it. The pile of dead bats had been shoved into a far corner, but nothing else had changed. Lyrical was silent as we made our way down the metal stairs and through the door to the last long staircase down. She paused on the small landing just inside the cavern, her ears swiveling. I knelt next to her, listening closely. Faint sounds of speech and laughter reached us from the water, and barely visible in the light from the star shells were flickers of motion from the same area.

I levered myself back to my hooves and nudged Lyrical. "Let's go see." I said, and she nodded. I lead as we wound a twisty course through the slumped barrels and rocky pillars. Now that I wasn't on combat alert, I saw strange beauty in the rocky spires. Some of them had rainbow stripes and strange slumped edges where they intersected with the puddles of taint. Even the normal ones had an elegance to them, different bands of subtle color glowing through the white rock coating.

The sight that greeted us as we entered the small sandy area was plain weird. Keanno and Illushia were taking notes, his pen flying almost as fast as the quill she held in her magic. Before them, the bulky form of Cookies danced on his hindlegs, a cascading stream of balls arcing through the air above him. Sunrise was hauled out onto the shore, applauding merrily and laughing as Cookies juggled brightly colored balls. Turning, Cookies saw me and Lyrical standing at the edge of the open area, and lost his footing. As he fell, Cookies managed to blurt out "Hi guys!" before getting a face full of the thankfully soft sand.

Sunrise's giggles brought a smile to my face as she easily caught the half dozen balls, setting them in a pile next to Cookies. The earth pony sprung back to his feet with an agility surprising for his size, bowing dramatically. "Lyrical, Wicked, glad you could join us!" Cookies declaimed grandly.

"Hi, Cookies, hi, Sunrise!" I replied, waving. Sunrise wiggled a tentacle at me and smiled. Lyrical trotted over to her, and the two girls immediately broke off, talking quietly. Cookies gathered up his balls and trotted over to where I stood next to Illushia and Keanno.

"You two sure slept in, heh heh heh." Cookies said with a broad grin, nudging me with an elbow. I shoved him a step away with a shoulder and rolled my eyes.

"That's not very couth, Cookies." Ilushia muttered, her eyes on Sunrise and Lyrical. "She's still wearing that combat armor." She noted. Next to her, Keanno looked up, snorted, then resumed writing.

"Well, she's going to need the armor." I said, still taken aback at Cookies' reaction. "It's not all protected and safe like this place."

Keanno spat his pen out with a thut! And levelled a narrow-eyed glare at me. "What, precisely, do you mean by that?" He asked in a surprisingly rich tenor. I met his glare with my own confused expression.

"We're leaving." I said flatly. Silence greeted my words, all three Collegiate ponies shocked into stillness. I saw motion out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see Lyrical lean into a close hug with Sunrise, who was crying and smiling, stroking Lyrical's mane with a tentacle. I nodded at the Collegiate ponies and made my way across the loose sands to Lyrical and Sunrise.

"Hey girls." I said as I drew near. Lyrical turned to me, tears streaming down her face. Sunrise buried her face in Lyrical's chest, hitching a sob. With a sigh, I leaned in to the embrace, hugging the soft dry hide of the tentacle pony close. "I'm so sorry, Sunrise. But we have to go." My words spurred the pink pony into actual tears, squeaky hiccups as she tried to breathe around her sobbing. I started crying myself and the three of us hung on each other, whimpering in the cold light of the star shell.

A hoof on my shoulder brought me out of my fugue, and I drew away to look back, seeing Ilushia with a hoof still extended.

"Arcane and Curled are on their way down. If you're going to get out of here without running into them, you're going to need to move." She said quietly. I nodded, and drew myself out of the three way hug as Ilushia returned to the two stallions, who looked uncomfortable and nervous.

"Lyrical.. we've got to go." I said. Sunrise drew back from Lyrical, a pair of snaky tentacles wiping the tears away from both ponies faces. Lyrical dropped her head, unwilling to look Sunrise in the face. Sunrise gently lifted her chin, forcing the unicorn to look at her.

"I'll be OK. You have to leave, but I won't be alone." Sunrise said, gesturing at the three Collegiate ponies. "These ponies are nice, too. It'll be OK. And you can come back later."

Lyrical sniffled, then dropped her head to the side and sneezed. "I know, but.. I just met you, and now.. now I have to leave, I'm scared, and..." Lyrical cut herself off, throwing herself back into Sunrise's tentacally embrace. I glanced back over my shoulder to see Ilushia nervously looking over hers, and turned back to tap Lyrical.

"It's time." I said. Lyrical gave Sunrise one last squeeze, then turned away and staggered towards the entrance. I grabbed Sunrise in a hug and squeezed. I drew back and kissed the pink pony on her forehead, raising a bright blush on her cheeks. "Be well. We'll be back." I said, and trotted after Lyrical.

I looked back to see Sunrise waving one delicate pink tentacle, and then we rounded a spur of rock and left.

Footnote: Level Up - Lyrical! Skill upgrade – Guns +10 (40), Speech +5 (30)

Level Perk: Dramatic Exit - In certain speech challenges, you get special options to terminate the dialogue while causing effects.

No level for Wicked, washing manes isn't a really big XP generator...

Afterword:

How freaking awesome are Arcane_Scroll and volrathxp? I dropped this on them less than 6 hours ago for pre-reads...  Sure, it's only 6000 words or so, but that's impressively fast turnaround from my excellent pre-readers!

Going to be in Valdez fishing from the 14th to the 19th, I'll try and bring home a new chapter when I get back!

Chapter 9: On The Run

The short trip through the rocky cavern where Sunrise lived was uneventful.  Lyrical was listless and downcast, I was concerned. We made our way through the steel and white dust of the turbine room in silence. As we mounted the stairs, Lyrical sniffed a tiny sob, so quiet I almost missed it. I tucked in closer to her as we climbed, our forelegs brushing as we walked. We made the top of the stairs in good order, Lyrical's sobs held in for the moment. I was taking a breath to say something, not sure what it would be, when the cheery 'ding!' of the elevator halted us both in mid step.

"Well I don't know where the little tribal's run off to, Mr. Brick, but he's just as at fault as Lyrical. I demand you do SOMETHING about him." Arcane Scroll declaimed, his voice clearly audible as the elevator door slid open. My eyes slammed wide, and I shot a glance at Lyrical, who had covered her mouth with a hoof. Thinking fast, I nudged her into motion, and we snuck into the branched hallway. The layout of that room still didn't make sense, but I wasn't going to turn my nose up at a place to hide!

Brick responded with a grunt, and Arcane resumed ranting. I tuned out the words, focusing on the location of the speakers. Arcane was kind enough to keep up a steady stream of abuse, and I heaved a silent sigh of relief as they took the direct path to the stairs. I took a look at Lyrical, who was frozen in place, her eyes wide and staring, a hoof in her mouth. I nuzzled her gently, and she startled, thankfully silent. I tossed my head, indicating the hallway, and she nodded. We set off, sneaking our way to the elevator.

The elevator door slid shut behind us, and we both let out deep shuddering breaths. Lyrical immediately burst into tears, deep hitching sobs that shook her shoulders and bowed her head. I tucked her into a hug, pressing her into my chest as firmly as I could. The obscenely cheerful ding of the doors opening made me blink, but I stayed where I was. Lyrical hitched a shuddering gasp of a breath, then sighed. I squeezed tighter for a moment, then drew back. Lyrical stared up at me through the fall of her mane, tears streaming from her eyes. I jerked away to stop the door from closing, and when I had turned back, Lyrical was facing away from me, wiping at her eyes.

I paused, unsure of what to do. My hesitation provided all the time Lyrical needed, though, and she turned back to me, her eyes red and puffy, but her jaw set.

"Let's go." Lyrical said, and I nodded in response. She trotted out of the elevator, and I scrambled to follow.  I poked a hoof at the armory door as we passed it, but it was locked. Catching up with Lyrical, we rounded the corner and I nudged her into the cafeteria. She shot me a quizzical look, and I tossed my head at the counter.

"Let's stock up on chow while we're here – I think we can afford the time."

Lyrical nodded agreement, and we detoured into the kitchen. It was empty of people, but there was plenty of food in the refrigerators and cabinets. I dug through the cabinets, tossing out packages of pre-war foods. I looked up to see Lyrical adding a pair of plates and a mess of silverware to the pile. I selected 'healthy', as much as that was possible with pre-war foods, but a few Fancy Buck Cakes still went on the pile.

By the time I had tossed one side of the room, Lyrical had gone through the other, and we met back at the counter. Our pile of foods and utensils was sizeable, and we shared a smile over it, before stuffing our saddlebags to overflowing. I strained against Lyrical's magic as she pulled my saddlebag shut, Blinky pushing on the top of it. The latch clicked shut, and we bolted for the entrance, giggling.

As we pelted into the entry lobby, the bathroom door opened, and Engineer stepped out, wiping his talons on a towel. We skidded to a stop, and the raggedy griffin eyed us. I traded glances with Lyrical, then took a step forward.

"Please don't tell anyone else, Engy, but we're leaving. The Collegiate are going to hang Lyrical out to dry, and it looks like they're going to take me down with her. We're leaving first."

The griffin's beak fell open in shock, and he looked from me to Lyrical and back. Absently clutching the towel, he made his way to the front counter and sat heavily. We looked at him nervously, and he finally shook his head, gesturing with a talon.

"I'm not gonna stop you two. I'm don't think Brick would throw you under the cart like that, but I can't hold you," He said. "Just..   hold on a second," Engineer ducked down, rummaging through the drawers in the desk. Me and Lyrical approached the side of the counter as he dug, and he shortly came up with a red stick, capped in milky plastic. "Flare. Either of you familiar with them?"

Both Lyrical and I nodded assent, and he pushed it towards us. Lyrical took it with her magic and slid it into her already-bulging saddlebags. I stretched a forehoof over the counter, and Engineer took it in a firm grip. "Thank you. For everything," I said, and he nodded, squeezing my hoof. I dropped back to all four and tossed my head. "We got to go."

"I'll be leaving with Hellen, most likely the day after tomorrow. If you head south until you get to the end of the desert, then turn west, we'll catch up to you. I'll go with you as far as Shattered Hoof, and we'll see what happens there." Engineer replied, and it was my turn to freeze in astonishment. I turned to look at Lyrical, who was grinning broadly.

"Thank you, Engy!" Lyrical said brightly, cantering around the counter and surging up to give the startled griffin a kiss on the side of his beak.

I learned that griffins can in fact, blush. Engineer went pink to the crown of his head, and sat stunned as Lyrical trotted back around the counter towards the door. I hustled to follow her, shaking my head and laughing at the unpredictability of mares. The inner door opened easily, revealing Main Spring, peering out the windows set in the outer doors. She waved a greeting to us before returning to her peering.

"Hey you two, what's up?" Main Spring asked. Her voice was thick with boredrom, and I felt the tug of the perverse, which I gave into willingly.

"Well, we're basically escaping from Arcane Scroll, who is working up the nerve to have us hung because Chalice died due to his stupidity, so we figured to take the choice away from him. And also his wallet." I said in one long breath, shouldering the door open and gesturing to Lyrical, who gave a little unicorn bow and trotted out the door. "Take care of yourself, Main Spring, it was a pleasure meeting you!" I added brightly, and let the door swing shut. I couldn't help but giggle at the completely flabbergasted look on the green mare's face as I turned to catch up with Lyrical.

We made our way out of the compound and through the gates without further incident. I thought I recognized Windy on the surveillance platform at the gate, but I wasn't certain. The gate itself was open, and Lyrical shifted up into a gallop, streaking away from the compound.  I chased after her, having to push myself to catch up with her, and leaned into her, slowly bending her path off to the south. We evened out and pelted through the early day, the rising sun burning off the thin lake mist and warming our hides as it scorched the desert.

We galloped until we couldn't, then trotted. I tried to signal for a rest or a break several times, but was rebuffed. Every time I would make a sign or try and push to slow down, Lyrical would shake her head and speed back up to a gallop. I could feel myself heating up, and I was seeing lather start to pop out on the cream unicorn. I scowled, and nudged her again.

"We need a break!" I huffed past my own blowing breath. Lyrical shook her head, stumbled, and fell. She slid across the sand, fortunately not tumbling or rolling. I frantically slowed my own pace, sprays of sand shooting up from my hooves.  I managed to come to a stop without losing my own balance, and darted to Lyrical's fallen form. She lay on her side, sharp gasps of breath blowing sand from in front of her nose, her eyes wide and staring.  I brushed her wild mane out of her eyes and knelt in front of her, drawing her into a loose embrace and stroking her withers.

"It's OK, it's ok, rest a moment."  I soothed. I got one of my canteens out, and held it to her. "Drink. Small, just a mouthful."

Lyrical nodded, and took the canteen in a flicker of magic. She pulled herself into a more composed kneeling position, took a small swallow, rinsed and spat.  Taking a second, slightly longer drink, she passed the canteen back.  I returned it to my harness, checking on Blinky, who was agitated but in good health. Lyrical knelt where she had fallen, in the small depression between two sand dunes, blinking silent tears out of her eyes. I squeezed her in a quick embrace, then carefully made my way up a dune.

Even this little bit of height afforded me a good view of the surroundings. Our headlong flight had taken us further than I had thought, far enough that the walls of the compound were only barely visible above the horizon. The lake would be just to the east of it, but wasn't visible. Originally, I had been traveling south-east to get to the compound. Our course west, then south, had taken us into unfamiliar territory. The sand stretched out, rolling gold and baking under the sun.

A slow scan revealed...  Nothing. A wide expanse of desert, fried to a crisp by the sun.  The familiar slow wavering of heat over emptiness, and sand. Sand sand sand.  I squinted, staring south as hard as I could.  I couldn't see anything except more desert.  With a sigh, I cautiously made my way back down the slope of the dune to Lyrical, who was watching my approach.  I noted her dry eyes and alert expression, and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey," She replied. I made it to the bottom of the small depression with a thump and sputter of sand.  Lyrical managed a tiny smile.

"So what's next?" Lyrical asked, her smile cracking at the edges.  I leaned up against her, and she curled into my embrace.

"Well, we rig for desert travel, and head south. Just...  slower."  I said, laughter bubbling in my voice.  "First thing is, we need hats. At least, something to keep the worst of the sun off."

Lyrical nodded, and I dug into my saddlebags. I came up empty, and turned back to see Lyrical holding a bolt of light blue cloth. I grinned, diving back into my saddlebags, and came up with my shears. A moment's work with Lyrical's help, and we had two squares of fabric, the remainder back in her bags.  I went back for needle and thread, and swiftly bashed together two floppy, but serviceable, sun hats.

Shortly thereafter, we trotted across the Wasteland. Lyrical copied my movements, her gait smoothing out into a fair approximation of the distance devouring lope I favored.  I kept an eye on the pale unicorn as best I could, and when she started panting we'd stop for water.  Blinky stayed asleep, surprising nopone.  Most of the day passed like this, the rest breaks coming closer and closer as Lyrical wore out.

I left the poor peach mare crumpled in a heap in the lengthening shadow, trotting to the top of the next dune.  The angle of the sun threw shadows across the desert, making precise navigation difficult.  The land-change was clear though, the golden yellow sand smearing into a darker brown scrub.  I'd been watching the verge get closer as the day progressed, but Lyrical's rapidly flagging strength made it a goal for tomorrow.  A slow survey of the surrounding desert revealed more nothing.

I was grateful for that emptiness. The trip here had brought three raiders into my life, and shortly out of their own.  I was OK with that, accustomed to vermin showing up in equine form.  Lyrical almost certainly wouldn't be.  Her reaction to Chalice's death was starting to worry me. With the complete mess that our departure from the desalinization plant had become, Lyrical had been jumping from crisis to crisis.  With no chance to think or feel, she hadn't been able to even start to cope.

My head felt heavy with worry as I made my way back down the dune.  Lyrical lay sprawled in shadow, her chest heaving slowly.  I knelt in the shade myself, pulling the floppy hat off my head and considering it.  The pale blue fabric was stained with sweat, encrusted with sand, and generally filthy.  The shape of the hat was true, and the seams strong and even.  Lyrical pushed herself onto her side with a grunt, and lay staring at me.  I smiled, and gestured with the hat.

"We do good work as a team, you know."

"We do -hooo- indeed." Lyrical replied. I smiled and nodded approvingly.  Her breathing was deep and regular, the sign of a pony worked hard but not nearly exhausted.  I sat there, waving some air into my face with the hat, as Lyrical's breath slowed.  A few minutes later, I tugged the hat back onto my head, the wide floppy tail draping over my neck. Blinky was still asleep, curled up in a pink ball on my back.  I stood and stretched, nudging Lyrical with a hoof.

"Come on, lady. We're not going to clear the desert before nightfall, but I saw a cactus just a couple minutes away, we'll stop there for the night."

"Stop at a cactus?"  Lyrical asked, shooting me a confused look before turning to examine her Talon armor. Shaking some sand out of a hem, Lyrical jogged in place.  Happy with the fit of her armor, she tossed her head.  "What's a cactus get us?"

"Food, water, something more interesting than plain old sand. You ready?"  I replied. Lyrical nodded, and we made our way across the dunes.  Minutes later we arrived, trotting up to a cactus standing spikey and dark green just shy of the crest of a dune. We stood, staring at the cactus. The lowering sunlight glistened off of it's plump green paddles, sparked off the tips of its needles.  The occasional pink blossom shone amongst the spikes.

We stood, staring. The sun finished its descent, leaving us in a rapidly cooling darkness.  I jolted back to alertness as Blinky rolled off my back, grumbling his way down the dune to a depression and burrowing into the side of it.  I nudged Lyrical, who startled out of her daze.

"What just happened?"  Lyrical asked, rubbing her eyes with a forehoof.

"We both just zoned out.  Too much desert, messes with your head."  I replied.  "Lets get some dinner gathered and hunker down for the night."  Putting deed to word, I kicked my weapon into my mouthgrip and took aim. Careful strikes knocked off a hoof-full of plump green paddles, Lyrical catching them with her magic as they fell. I tucked my weapon away and we made our way down the side of the dune to the depression.  This close to the edge of the desert, the ground was a firm hardpan in the encircling sand of the dunes.  I swept a place mostly clean with a scrap of leather from my saddlebags, and laid it out flat.  Lyrical dropped the cactus on it, and I began peeling the tough outer layers and needles off.

By the time I had finished that, Lyrical had laid out the rest of the bolt of blue cloth, which doubled over, would keep us off the sandy ground.  I nodded approval with a smile.  "Don't forget to loosen your armor.  We don't want to take it off, just in case, but there's no reason not to be at least a little more comfortable."

Lyrical nodded, and began working the straps and clasps of her Talon armor.  I did the same, swiftly working the familiar straps loose.  Sitting on the clean cloth, I checked myself over for the minor chafing and dings anypone could expect to pick up in a day of travelling.  Everything was OK, and Lyrical plopped down next to me with a long sigh.

"Nice to be moving again." I said shortly.

"Yeah, even if it is more work-" Lyrical said, interrupting herself with a yawn. "Than I had expected."

"It'll get easier.  How's the armor feeling? Got any hot spots, or places where it's rubbing?"

"Not really, this is good stuff. I think there's a little rub just above my tail, but it's not painful or anything."

"Well, let me check it out."  I said. Lyrical stretched forward, her legs tucked underneath her. Sure enough, there was a thin spot, where the trailing edge of the armor was starting to rub off the hair.  I poked it with a hoof, and Lyrical bent around to examine the spot.

"Oh!"  She exclaimed.  I nodded in response.

"Not that bad, really, but we'll certainly need to put some padding on that spot tomorrow to protect your skin.  Travelling, like we did today, is a whole different thing than exploring or fighting, it doesn't wear on you the same way."

Lyrical nodded her understanding, and we shared a cold meal of cactus and water, Blinky claiming part of both.  We spent the next hour or so just talking, not of anything important, but of our early lives, the places we grew up.  Lyrical drifted off to sleep in mid sentence, and I pulled the edge of the sheet over her drowsing form.  It was thin protection against the cold of a desert night, but it was better than nothing. I shifted until I was comfortable, the gentle rise and fall of Lyrical's breathing comfortably warm on my side, and focused.

I paid attention to the regular soft rhythm of Lyrical's breathing, marking it as normal and right, then ignored it. I could hear the tiny whisp of noise from Blinky's burrow of sleeping molerat, and that familiar sound was tucked away too.  I closed my eyes and listened, letting the desert itself stand guard for me.  My father had taught me this, when we were out away from the tribe.  Even before the clouds parted, the desert was not dead.  The ever-changing sand played host to any number of living things. The cactus we had just had dinner from, tiny insects that fed off of its flowers.  I could hear the quiet tread of a scorpion, making its way across the sand, and the just-slightly-quieter tread of a shrew or other furry critter chasing it. As the two fought their deathly battle in the night, sleep crept up on me. I embraced it gladly, my ears and part of my mind alert for any disturbance.

Morning brought soft silver.  A thick fog turned the sunlight into a lambent glow, the sun itself a bright coin only occasionally visible. Lyrical had curled up into a ball of unicorn, her green mane contrasting nicely with her cream coat and the light blue of our sleeping pad. Her soft breath tickled my barrel with each exhale, probably what had woken me.  I stretched, feeling the waking-up complaints of well worked muscles in my back and legs.  I grinned at the sun, sniffing the morning air and looking around.  Our stopping place was undisturbed, and a quick trip up the dune revealed nothing more interesting than the tracks of last night's shrew, and the nibbled clean corpse of its scorpion dinner.

Returning to Lyrical, I nudged her gently, drawing a sleepy grumble.  "Wake up, lady, time to get moving."  I said quietly.  Lyrical grunted and uncurled, stretching luxuriously.  I left her to it, and stuck my hoof into Blinky's burrow.  The molerat latched onto my hoof with his stout teeth, and I jerked him out of the hole, sputtering curses.  Dropping off my hoof and rolling across the sand, Blinky fetched up against Lyrical, who was shaking out the blue fabric.  Laughing, she folded and stowed the cloth.  Pulling a canteen from her saddlebags, Lyrical gave the grumpy molerat a drink, before taking one for herself.

I followed suit, tucking my canteen away before turning to Lyrical. I pulled a bandage out of my saddlebag, Lyrical unrolling it and folding the absorbent fabric into a pad. I tucked it under the edge of her armor, just ahead of her demurely dropped tail. She stretched and bounced a couple times before stretching around to examine the padded area.

"Looks good to me."

"Me, too. Let's get moving."

Lyrical swung Blinky up to my withers with a bit of magic, and we put deed to word.  The concealing fog burnt off in minutes, and we fell back into an easy lope, cruising south across the desert.  Our midday rest was in the dubious shade of an actual tree, just over head high and scrubby. The tree was healthy, though, and possessed of a proud crown of green leaves.  Lunch under it was hay fries and pre-war apples, and a Salisbury steak for me.  Lyrical shuddered seeing it.

"I know that's food, I mean, I could eat it, but that was… a creature, once.  Like Blinky, or Mona, the dog we had back at the College."

"Well, it's just a food now." I replied, rapidly snarfing my lunch. I put paid to the last of the rich brown juices, and tucked the empty can into a saddlebag. Lyrical finished off her last apple with a sigh, and we got back to our hooves again. The tree fell behind us as we trotted south,  the desert beginning to thin. Sand slowly gave way to brown dusty dirt, and cactus gave way to rock and brush.

Occasional breaks slowed our pace, but we kept pushing on through the rising sun.  I had plenty of time to think while the miles rolled away under my hooves, and I used it all.  Lyrical was the central figure in my thoughts, today.  I still didn't have a coherent grasp of what to do for her.  The crash was coming, and the only thing I could think to do was be there to pick up the pieces.  Engineer had said that he and Hellen would be catching up to us soon, I hoped he would have some advice.

And catch up he did.  I was casting about as we travelled, looking for a good place to stop for lunch.  The desert had fully given way now, and low scrub dotted the plains.  Every rock or hollow, lump or depression had green around it.  I was sure there was sciencey reasons for that, probably water availability, but I liked my father's phrasing on it.  "Life finds the edges."

We were gonna need to find some edge ourselves, soon.  I could feel the sun beating on my shoulders behind the coverage of my floppy hat.  I skidded to a halt as I saw motion out of the corner of my eye, turning to focus on a speck in the sky, almost completely behind us.  Lyrical streaked past me with a surprised yelp, curving off and slowing herself in a more controlled manner.

"What do you see?"  Lyrical asked, squinting at the sky.

"Two dots. Fliers, descending."  I answered shortly.   We slowed to a walk, and the dots soon resolved to griffins.  The grey and white feathers of one of the griffs were just a smudge, but the black and tan of the other were visible. "That's them!"

Engineer and Hellen landed easily, walking next to us as we made our way across the Wasteland.  I nickered a greeting at Engineer, and he nodded gracefully.  Hellen opened her beak to say something, but subsided when Engineer shot her a sharp look.  We walked on in silence, until a small rise revealed a pond in the near distance.

"Perfect."  Engineer said, indicating the water hole with a toss of his head.

"I like it."  I replied.

"Hope the water's clean."  Lyrical added.  Hellen remained quiet, and we picked up the pace.  The waterhole was empty, fresh vibrant greenery spreading out from a small, clean pond.  The ground near the pond sloped gently upwards, just enough to hold the output of whatever spring or seep was here. Engineer had actual camping gear with him, and he busied himself setting up bedrolls while I scouted the waterhole and immediate surroundings.

I came back to a scene of tension in balance. As I sloshed water over my hooves to rinse off the last of some radscorpion goo, I eyed Hellen and Lyrical. They were still and silent, the cream unicorn kneeling on a bedroll while Hellen crouched on another, her tail twitching and lashing under its bushy tuft of feathers. Engineer busily assembled a small firepit, stacking rocks and scraping dirt out of the center.  His gaze kept returning to Hellen and Lyrical also.

"So, what are those two up to?" I asked Engineer, lending a hoof to the firepit construction.  The older griffin gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"Dominance, I'd imagine. Your mare friend seems to have the upper hoof, so to speak."

"Eh?"

"Look closer."

So I did.  I had already noticed that Hellen's tail was lashing, but closer examination showed that she was restless. Kneading her talons into her still-rolled bedroll, shifting her weight.  In contrast, Lyrical was almost completely motionless.  Her half lidded eyes and slow breathing gave the impression of a pony on the edge of sleep.  I couldn't help but giggle when I figured it out.  Lyrical, a prey animal, was showing dominance over Hellen, a carnivore.  Hellen was not dealing. I stretched around and nudged Blinky out of his drowsy slumber.

"Go make yourself useful and break that up, rat." I said.  Blinky grumbled and rolled off my back, landing on the sandy loam with a thump.  I smiled as I watched the molerat trundle off towards the girls.  If nothing else, this would be interesting.

Blinky stopped between the two, flickering his whiskers and sniffing.  Grunting, the wrinkled pink molerat turned to Lyrical. Making his way onto her bedroll, he curled up against her side and let out a happy sigh as he went back to sleep. Lyrical glanced down at him and smiled broadly at Hellen. Engineer chuckled low in his throat as Hellen's talons pierced her bedroll.

"Hellen, I've got camp almost ready, go fly a patrol, burn some of that energy off." Engineer commanded. Hellen exploded off her bedroll in a flurry of wings and lashing tail, disappearing into the sky in a black and tan flash.  Lyrical watched calmly, then climbed to her hooves and walked the short distance around our campsite to me and Engineer.  As she drew nearer, she started shaking.  She was trembling like a leaf when she leaned against me, and I tucked my neck over hers.

"What in Luna's name was that all about?" Lyrical asked, her voice quivering.

"Dominance thing. Hellen was trying to be 'in charge' of you, and you shut her down like a circuit breaker." Engineer replied.  I stayed wrapped around Lyrical. "You probably won't have any problems with her any more, I wouldn't think."

"I don't know why I did in the first place."  Lyrical replied, her voice calming. I gave her a gentle nuzzle and stood aside, tending to the firepit.

"It's a predator thing, really."  Engineer lectured. "Hellen is young enough that she is still strongly influenced by what she is instead of who she is.  As much as it seems like we're all just people, especially around the Talons-"

"Griffins aren't Ponies." Lyrical said.

"Exactly.  Hellen's young, and she's having some trouble right now, but she'll get over it.  Right now, it's my job to get her back to Shattered Hoof and make sure she doesn't get in trouble."

"Trouble?"  I asked, looking up from the finished firepit.

"Well...  The Talons aren't some heartless outfit, really.  But, if Hellen injures or kills someone, she's going to face the same penalty as any other.  Her youth won't enter into it."

"What would the penalty be?"  Lyrical asked.

"For assault with injury, lashes.  How many depends on how bad the injury.  For murder...  Death."

We fell silent, then.  I shook my head, and began casting about from the campsite for firewood.  This close to the desert, my haul was primarily twigs and small sticks.  My luck was with me, though, and I found an ancient beam half buried in the sand.  The aged wood was dry as could be, and would feed a nice compact campfire for the whole evening.

I dropped my meager load of sticks off at the firepit. Lyrical accepted them gratefully, and began to put together a fire as I went back out for the beam. Dragging that back was quite a struggle, and I collapsed on my bedroll with a sigh once I had it dropped off at the firepit. I rolled onto my back and stared into the sky, watching the clouds drift overhead as I relaxed. High noon had passed us by while we were travelling, and it was the crest of the afternoon, lazy and warm. The occasional brush of wind stirred my coat, and I felt good and relaxed, taking in the sun and the sky. A dot resolved itself into the form of a griffin, high above and falling fast. I drew a deep sigh and braced myself. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what was coming, and not long to wait. Sure enough, Hellen streaked directly towards me. I only had a sliver of time to think. Hellen was under orders not to hurt me or Lyrical, very strict ones. There was no way she would intentionally injure me, especially as badly as a full stoop would.

I closed my eyes.

A rush of air was the only warning I had, before Hellen's landing shook my bedroll and sprayed sand into my mane. My heart racing, I faked a yawn, and slowly opened my eyes, looking into the furious orbs of the black and brown griffin.

"Oh, Hellen, hi." I said sleepily, blinking. With a snort of disgust, Hellen disappeared. I could hear my pulse in my ears as I rolled over and stood. I kept seeing my guts splattered over my bedroll. I could feel the skin on my belly twitching where the claws would have pierced me. This had to end, and I was fresh out of ideas on how to do it nice.

Hellen was at the top of what passed for a hill near our campsite, talking quietly with Engineer. I stalked past an alarmed Lyrical and mounted the short slope, my blood thundering and my vision beginning to mist red. I smiled. Reaching out, I tapped Hellen on the shoulder, gently, gently... She whipped her head around to stare at me with shrinking pupils. I wasn't sure if she was saying anything.

"Hey, Hellen. Let's spar." I said through my teeth. I think I was still smiling. I may have been grinning. Hellen's beak moved, and I stared at it curiously.  That was the thing she talked with, I was fairly sure.  I made my way carefully back down the hill, past our rough campsite and away from the watering hole.  I stood with my legs spread wide, stretching my neck back and forth to loosen the muscles.  I wasn’t sure why they were so tight.

I had finished my neck, and was working my forelegs when Hellen joined me.  I looked around, taking in the terrain.  A tiny hill was the only notable feature, the sandy ground flat and boring.  No brush or trees, not even scrub broke the lines of the terrain.

“...I guess the first person to tap out will yield the match?”  Hellen said.  The words started to make some kind of sense, and I thought about them.  Yes, that would work.  After I had beaten her, she could tap out on the ground.  I smiled wider.

“Sounds good to me. No weapons, no claws.”  I said.  I was surprised at how calm, even cheerful I sounded.  Hellen nodded, and I broke from my stance into a charge.  The griffin’s eyes shot wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks as I leaped into the air.  She wasn’t able to do anything more than hunch defensively as I came down, and a forehoof gently touched her between her shoulders as I landed.

She hissed in rage as she whipped away from my pulled blow, and a fisted talon shot out to catch me in the jaw.  I almost shouted in joy as red slammed into the edges of my vision, but the only thing I had time for was the attacking griffin in the tunnel of my sight.  Her next strike was another fisted talon, backed up by a twist of her torso and a wingstroke for extra force.  I slipped inside it with an easy spin, and rode my momentum around for a backhoof, putting everything I had into the side of her face.

She flew to the side with a dismayed squawk, and I lunged to follow up, to no avail. Hellen exploded into the air in a shock of noise, wind, and feathers.  I circled, keeping my head up to watch as she fought for altitude.  I wasn’t familiar with griffins as a species, but I could tell she was laboring, either hurt or winded already.

Good.

As she turned over at the top of her climb and shot back down, I turned out of my circle into a straight line, and walked several slow steps as I counted my heartbeats.  At the moment, the critical moment, I bunched my forelegs and bucked.

Perfect.

Hellen collapsed out of the sky a tiny fraction of a second earlier than she had been planning, and instead of knocking me to the ground in a ball of pain, she ran into my lifted rump and arched back, face first.  Her hard beak sent a stabbing shard of pain into my hindquarters, just off to the side of my spine, but that was the worst of it.  Off she bounced, and I stretched my legs out in the final movement of the buck.  Balance intact, I whirled and put a hoof on the dazed griffiness’ head.

“You’re lucky I pulled that buck.” I said quietly, before turning away from her to trot up the tiny little rise. I kept moving, my awkward canter bouncing the pain out of my rump and keeping my hot muscles loose.  Hellen shook off her daze and stood, crying a scream of challenge.  I inhaled until my chest hurt, braced myself, and roared in response.

Hellen faltered, but charged.  She was willing and ready, coming up the hill like a flicker of shadow over sunlit gound.  I leaped into the air, and for one frozen moment, I was happier than I had been since home.  Hellen came in low, one talon swinging from far behind to eviscerate me. I came in from above, and a single forehoof with all the weight of my body and momentum of my leap crashed against her head.

In the stillness that followed,  I stood panting.  Engineer sidled over, and pried one of Hellen’s eyelids open, then the other.  I remained still, until Engineer touched the beak wound on my rump.  Then I started shaking.

“Not too shabby, Wicked.  Go soak your head and cool down.  I’ll see to this dumb bird.”

I did as directed.  The cool water wasn’t doing enough for me by drinking, so I knelt and dropped my head and shoulders into the pond.  That helped, and the absurd sound water always made when I was submerged was like a button being pressed in the back of my head.  I stood up tired and happy, shaking myself dryish.  Turning back to the bedrolls, I knelt and stretched out.

“Wicked?”  Lyrical asked in a small voice.  I met her eyes, feeling the tiniest bit of shame.  “What just happened?”

“I got mad.  Hellen’s been acting like the high god queen of all Equestria, and I just..  lost it.  Something had to be done before she hurt somepony, and I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“I see.” Lyrical said. I looked away and closed my eyes, letting the warm sun cook the last of the tension out of my muscles.  I heard Lyrical getting to her hooves, and quiet hoofsteps.

I twitched when I felt her hoof lie gently on my shoulders, but remained still.  Her warm breath in my ear was a surprise, and made my body go all warm again for a completely different reason. “I think that was precisely what she needed.  Good job.”  Lyrical whispered.  The touch of her hoof disappeared, and her quiet steps faded away.  I fell onto my side, exhausted.  The light off the surface of the waterhole was fascinating, and I watched it as I drifted off to sleep.

A nap sounded like a wonderful idea, after all that.

Footnote: Level Up! Skill upgrade – Unarmed +12! (42)

Level Perk: Lady Killer: +10% damage to the opposite sex and unique dialogue options with certain characters.

Chapter 10: This Ain't The Summer of Love

What had I done?

I woke up in darkness, to sudden cold on my back. I was half off of my bedroll, my legs stuck straight out onto the dirt. I blinked and listened, hearing hooves quietly walking away. Lyrical’s hooves, most likely.  I hurt.  My back was a knot of pain and stiffness, my face throbbing with my pulse.  How bad was Hellen hurt?

How badly had I hurt her?

I took a deep breath against the pain in my back, and forced myself to a sitting position.  I took stock of the camp, seeing Lyrical climbing the stubby hill that overlooked our campsite.  Engineer was a flicker of movement at the top of the hill, gray feathers against night’s blackness.  I sat, blinking sleepily as I watched Lyrical mount the hill, her light coat shining in the dim starlight.

My eyes adjusted further, and I could see Lyrical in conference with Engineer. Their quiet voices were inaudible at this range, but it was obvious they were changing the watch.  Hellen was on a bedroll across the fire from me, rolled into a shaking ball of fur and feathers.  The griffin twitched as I watched, and made a quiet little mewling sound.  I reached out a hoof towards her, and Engineer’s hand gently pushed it down.  Silently, the older griffin met my gaze, before shaking his head and walking to her.

Engineer knelt next to Hellen’s quivering form, gently stroking her feathered head.  I slumped down from my sitting posture as the griffin began singing.

Where the river foams and surges to the sea,

Silver figures rise to find me,

His voice was soft and rough, but I could feel the emotion worked into it. Hellen subsided under his touch, her tiny sobs evening out into ragged breath.

Wise and as daring,

Following the heart's cry.

I am that deep pool,

I am that dark spring,

I relaxed, too, listening to Engineer’s rough voice stroke the lyrics and melody of this song, just as his taloned hand softly stroked Hellen’s neck and shoulders.

Warm with a mystery,

I may reveal to you,

In Time, Time holds the heart's key,

Key to everything is Love, Love makes the heart flower,

I stared at Engineer as he sang, his eyes closed and his face raised to the heavens.  The merest sliver of moon rode high in the night sky.

Flowers into a deep desire, Passion in the heart's fire

Passion and desire.

There was a long pause, and I felt my eyes sliding closed.  The next verse of the song was higher, lighter. Where the first verse was a confidence told in secret, this was a promise for the future.

See the eagle rise above the open plain,

Golden in the morning air,

Weaving and soaring,

Watchful and protecting.

I stayed quiet and still, listening hard as Engineer sang. His voice was edging towards ragged, but stayed strong as he sang into the night.

I am your shelter,

I will enfold you.

Warm with a mystery,

I may reveal to you...

As the last note trailed off, I opened my eyes again to see the griffin’s head bowed between his shoulders, his taloned hand resting on Hellen’s back.  Glancing up the hill, I saw Lyrical’s eyes glisten in the faint moonlight, before she turned away.

Engineer slowly made his way past the dead campfire to me.  Laying a hand on my muzzle, he leaned close, examining the tender and hurting side of my face. “Let’s talk,”  He said quietly, and motioned to the hill.

I levered my sore body back to its hooves, and followed the older griffin up the little hill.  He stopped just shy of the summit, plopping himself down with a ruffle of feathers and a grunt.  I made myself comfortable, groaning at the pain in my back as I sat.

“I figure that we might as well settle in here, so Lyrical could listen easily and still keep watch,”  Engineer said with a griff-grin.  I smiled in response, and had to grin at the muffled snort from the top of the hill.  “You did good today, kid.  Hellen’s hurting pretty bad, but it’s all bruises and strains, nothing’s broken.”

“Broken?  I was worried I’d killed her...”  I trailed off, burying my face in my forelegs.  “What did I do, Engy?”

“Hehehehh..   Griffins are tougher than that, kid.  What you did was, you showed great restraint beating down someone who badly needed it.  You were pulling your punches, even when you were damn near berserking.”  Engineer said, scruffling my ears.

“Berserking?”

Lyrical’s voice was curious, from her spot just up the hill.  I lifted my head and looked at her, and she smiled and winked at me before disappearing.  Engineer chuckled, drawing my attention.  The griff had drawn himself up, and grinned widely before taking a deep breath, gesturing broadly with one talon.

“The ancient art of Berserkergang, or berserking, was first adopted by earth pony forces fighting against superior griffin numbers.  By honing their rage, sometimes with dangerous potions, these ponies would fight with the strength of ten warriors.  Injuries, even normally crippling ones, would not slow these fiends until their rage had passed.”  Engineer declaimed grandly, in a stuffy high cultured voice.

I couldn’t help but giggle at the griffin’s pompous voice and pose.  Lyrical’s gentle laugh came down the hillside, and things were better.  Not perfect by any stretch of the term, but better.

“So, berserking is...  anger?”  I ventured.  Engineer relaxed back into a more normal slouch, shrugging.

“I’m not really sure.  That little bit I just gave you is about all I know.  Pony fighting tactics were never something I studied or trained on.”  Engineer admitted.

“That’s something I’m going to have to learn more about,”  I said sheepishly.  “I can usually control myself, even when I’m...  Angry, I guess?”

“As good a term as any, Wicked.  When we get to Shattered Hoof, we’ll see if any of the combat trainers there know anything.”

“I wonder what else we can find at Shattered Hoof.”  Lyrical mused from the hilltop.  “The way you talk about it, it’s a pretty big place.”

“It is!  It’s the home base of the Talons, and a gem mine.  If Gawd hasn't gone off on sabbatical again, you might even get a chance to meet her!"

Engineer's obvious excitement was promising.  Whatever experiences I had had with the Talons at the desalination plant, if the griffon I was coming to respect was that happy to be headed there, it was a good sign.

We talked for a few more minutes, nothing of importance or consequence, while clouds gathered overhead.  Engineer took his leave soon, and went back to his bedroll. I mounted the short distance to the hilltop, finding a tidy little nest with a drowsy unicorn keeping watch.  The sight lines were surprisingly good for such a small rise, and the empty scrubland stretched out before us.

"So what do you think about this whole...  Berserker thing?" I ventured. Lyrical laughed, a quiet sound against the night's stillness.  I knelt beside her and watched the Wasteland.

"Answer me this first, Wicked.  What do _you_ think about it?". Lyrical replied.

I paused in thought.  I had been so wrapped up in the reactions of my companions that I hadn't paid much attention to my own feelings, it was true.  I took a moment to just feel, listening to my own heart.  The answer was clear, if surprising.

"I feel good.  I might have hurt Hellen, hurt her badly.  But I didn't, and not just by luck.  I went into that intending to teach her a lesson, and that's exactly what I did."

It was my turn to keep watch then, as Lyrical muffled her laughter by burying her muzzle into the hollow behind my foreleg.  The sensation was quite disconcerting, and I squirmed as she laughed.

"That's just about exactly what I was going to say.”  Lyrical bubbled, pulling away from me to stand.  She shook herself and stretched.  “Hellen was a horrid bully, really.”  Lyrical bent down, brushing the tip of my ear with her lips.  “And I can’t stand bullies.  You did good, Wicked.”

And with that the unicorn made her way down the hill, tail swishing idly as she negotiated the gentle slope in the thin light afforded us by the cloudy sky.  Blinking, I settled in for the last watch, lost in thought.

The next morning was curious.  Breakfast was unremarkable, boring trail food and preserved rations.  Blinky was foul tempered and irritable, dragging a plate of mashed potatoes into a burrow and ignoring the rest of us for most of the morning.  Lyrical was slightly sleepy, unused to having to take a watch in the middle of the night.  Engineer and myself were fine, more accustomed to the rigors of watchful travel.

Hellen was...   Interesting.  Where the young griffiness had been confident and agressive, she was wary and quiet.  Lyrical had noticed the new behavior,  and favored me with a broad grin when Hellen was at the waterhole washing our dishes.  I flicked an ear noncommittally.  This didn’t seem right, it was too extreme.  I finished repacking my saddlebags, lashing the bedroll on my back. Lyrical had her armor set and bags packed already.  Blinky made himself comfortable on my bedroll, and we set out. With Engineer leading the way on the ground and Hellen a pinpoint high in the sky, we made our way west.  Towards Shattered Hoof.

Last night’s cloud cover had passed, and the morning sun warmed my sore muscles and aching back as we proceeded.  I leaned into the pain, pushing myself through it to maintain a normal pace and range of movement.  The pain lessened as I stretched out into the work, and we made miles across the Wasteland.  The shriek of a griffin cry brought my out of my daze, and I looked up to see Hellen plummeting towards us.  She swooped out of her dive into a hover, her eyes wide.

“Engineer, we’ve got company! Six ponies, two horn-heads - coming in from the south and fast!”  Hellen screeched, fighting for altitude as soon as she had delivered her message.  As she disappeared back into the sky, I gave my attention to Engineer.  The older griff had sprang into the air and was scanning the area from a few ponylengths up.  A quick look around revealed no useful cover, and Lyrical wide-eyed in fear.

I whipped my head around and snatched Blinky by a fold of skin, tossing him at Lyrical. She caught the spitting, furious molerat in her magic. Ducking to the south of her, I shoved her shoulder.

"Head north!" I yelled. "If some pony comes after you, throw Blinky at him!"

"Right!"  Lyrical gasped, then curved off, shifting into a full gallop on the fly. I took a moment to admire her, mane and tail streaming in the sun, muscle and gritted teeth under armor.  Engineer came crashing to the ground ahead of me, and I dug my hooves in to stop a couple lengths away from him.  Stickbird flew into my grip like a thought, and I faced south with my heart pounding.

"Total of six ponies, unicorns are hanging back.". Engineer growled, his scratchy voice carrying a griffish rage I had never heard from him before.  "I'll get the unicorns, watch my back and stay alive."

I glanced over and saw Engineer pulling a massive pistol out of his barding, a revolver that was sizable even in his massive paw.  He held it in a two handed grip, aiming down the mounted scope.  The pounding of hoofbeats came into hearing as ponies came into view.  They were obviously raiders, festooned in spikes and badly made leather. The first four were earth ponies, as advertised, three unremarkable bucks trailing a truly massive specimen of ponyhood.

The massive stallion was a faded blue, with a bare nub of dock and a ragged fuzz of mane showing dusty red on his scarred head.  Two of the ponies behind him were twins, filthy gray ponies with the same shaved manes and bare docks. The fourth was a green mare with the same lack-of-hairstyle.  Behind them was a pair of unicorns, one ragged in fringed leather, the other crumpling to the ground in a spray of blood.

I was so hyperfocussed on the charging ponies, I had somehow missed the crash of Engineer's revolver.  He pulled the hammer back and fired again, but the leather clad unicorn dodged, the shot tearing a gash in the landscape.

And then they were upon us. I planted Stickbird and feinted the tip at the charging bulk of the blue stallion.  He shied, angling away from Engineer and pelting past with a furious howl. The twin stallions stayed the course, trapping the green mare between them.  She reared, screaming wordlessly as the weight of her body and speed of her charge impaled her on my weapon.  The crowbar tip of Stickbird slammed home in her chest, lodging in her dead body as the twins hit me from either side.  They both tucked their shoulders and hit me in the side, forcing me over and back.

I must have landed on a rock or something, because I felt a blade of pain thrust into my back where Hellen had beaked me.  I screamed in agony, thrashing my limbs and trying to roll upright.  One of the running stallions kicked me in the side of the head as they ran by.  I managed to use the force of the kick to get on my side, and forced myself upright in time to see the twin stallions running towards me, snarling.  With my legs twitching in agony and without my weapon, it would be melee, two on one.  Nothing for it though, I braced myself and screamed my anger out of me.  The hot red feeling would give me the edge I needed to deal with these two.

Nothing happened. I didn’t feel anything at all, and only barely managed to throw myself out of the way as the stallions went shoulder to shoulder and tried to run me down.  I whirled to face the twins as they curved around to run at me again.  I wasn’t trying any funny stuff, and I dodged their charge in good order.  How stupid were these ponies, to just charge and charge again?  I snaked out a hoof as I bounced out of the way and tagged one of the identical ponies with a quick strike.  He grunted but didn’t stop or change his course, just arcing around in lockstep with the other pony.  I scowled, taking a split second to take in the battle as a whole.  The massive blue pony had made his way around and was walking towards me, while the twins had started another charge.  To the side, Engineer was in close combat with the unicorn in the fringe, screaming like an angry auto-axe stuck in a beam.

Nothing presented itself as a winning plan, and I didn’t have enough time to get Stickbird out of the green mare.  I needed an edge, something to keep this from becoming three against one.

"Alright! Get 'em!" I shouted, breaking into a charge of my own. The matched pair of grays startled, breaking stride to try and look everywhere at once.  The big blue pony actually stopped, scanning the area to try and find the other attacker.

He should have looked up.  Hellen came out of the sky like a dark thunderbolt, a flash of silver fire and black lightning.  She hit the massive blue pony like a ton of rubble, slamming him face first into the ground.  I shouted in joy as I sprinted towards the twins, swiftly eating up the distance.  One of them looked over his shoulder, seeing Hellen hit his buddy. The sound of a gunshot hammered my ears, drawing the attention of the other buck.

He immediately fell over, sliding and tumbling across the hard packed ground.  His partner snapped his head back around to see him falling, just as I hit him in the face.

Why waste perfectly good momentum on a shoulder check?

The dirty gray pony spun into a tumble, knocking me over as his charge turned into an uncoordinated fall.  I popped back to my hooves, checking behind me to see a flash of Hellen with one set of talons in the air.  Her foe was down and about to be out.  I reared to crush the gray buck, when Engineer's voice pierced my ears.

"HOLD!"

I dropped back to my hooves, backing towards Hellen as I shot a quick look to the older griffin.  He was striding towards us, the fringed unicorn lying still in a spreading pool of blood behind him.

"Stand down, Wicked, but keep watch. They've surrendered."

He was right.  The two ponies I had faced were staying down.  The first was lying on his back, tears running down his face as he stared at the other.  The second of the twin ponies wasn't moving at all, but Engineer checked him, making a pleased grunt.

"Just unconscious, he'll be fine."

Hellen had jumped off of the huge blue buck, and was nervously watching him, one taloned hand held back, ready to strike.  I noticed bright claw covers on her talons, sharp and gleaming.  Engineer approached the pony, who twitched and moaned.  The thick clotted sound was almost ghoulish, and I shuddered to hear it.

Engineer gently rolled the pony onto his side, wincing as his back legs didn't follow.  "I'm glad you surrendered, son, I just wish you'd done it sooner.  Your back's broken."

The blue pony groaned again, scraping at the ground with a forehoof. I backed off, watching the twin gray ponies and taking in the situation as a whole. The unicorns were both dead ***, the green mare was very dead, and no further movement caught my eye.  I trotted back to Engineer and the fretful Hellen.

"Engineer, can you send Hellen back up?  I want to be sure there aren't any more coming."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Good call.  Hellen, take care of that, if you please."

Hellen gathered herself to launch, but I stopped her with a hoof on her shoulder. "Lyrical went north, can you tell her its safe to come back, please?"

Hellen nodded and took off, swiftly disappearing into the sky.  I returned to the corpse of the green mare, working Stickbird out of her body and wiping it clean as best I could on the hardpack.  The conscious gray watched me nervously whenever I was in his line of sight, staying motionless on his back.

I checked the mare over quickly, and found nothing.  She was naked, hairless and tailless, with shaved patches on her flank.  Those distorted her cutie mark enough that it was unreadable, which really bothered me.  I composed her body as best I could, leaving her appearing to be asleep.  The gray buck gave a breathy sigh of a moan as I gently closed her eyes.

His twin was next, and was more of the same.  Naked earth pony in fair shape, except for the missing hair and shaved cutie mark.  I left him on his side, breathing easy.  His twin was shaking as I approached, something I could easily understand.  How had dad done this?

Well, here goes something.

"Congratulations, you've made the smart decision.  I'm Wicked Cut, out of Chopper by Eggs Forbreakfast.  Let's start easy - what's your name?"

The pony said nothing, just made choppy grunting sounds.  "What's your name, brother?  You don't have to use your real name, but we've got to call you something."

The gray buck howled, covering his face with his hooves. He slammed his forehooves down to the ground on either side of his body, and stretched his head towards me, his mouth gaping open.  Where his tongue should have been was a ragged stub of scar tissue.

"By the ancestors! Engineer, this pony's got no-"

"Wicked, this guy's tongue has been cut out!"

---

Lyrical had returned.  Hellen had seen no other attackers, but was going to stay airborne until she saw something or we signalled her.  We had used one of our precious healing potions on the big buck, which had knit his back enough that he could feel his legs again.  He still wasn't able to move them, and just sat silently, tears rolling down his face as he stared into the distance.  The unconscious gray pony remained so, and his twin was next to him now.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news here.  Your back isn’t broken, but it’s very badly sprained.  You need to rest, and keep your back still.”  Lyrical said, her horn glowing as she examined the big blue stallion.  “The bad news is, there’s nothing we can do about your tongue.  It’s an old injury, and the scar tissue is settled and worn in.”

The blue stallion sighed, and buried his face in his forehooves.  Lyrical patted him on the shoulder, and moved over to the twin grays.  Her horn flared back to life, her magic playing about the face and head of the unconscious gray.  His twin flinched, closing his green eyes against the similar colored glow of Lyrical’s magic.  She scowled, shutting down her horn and stepping away from the two ponies.

“Your brother should be fine, I think. That doesn’t look like a concussion or any real damage.  Just let him sleep it off.”  Lyrical finished, then turned to me.  “Wicked, I’m not a doctor pony, but these guys should be OK with some rest.  Aside from the tongue thing, that’s...   Messed up.  What now?”

“I have no idea.  Engineer, how far away are we from Shattered Hoof?”

“Well...  We were two days out, give or take.  But I don’t want to leave these guys behind.  Something’s not right, and the Hoof needs to know about it.”

“Whaddya mean not right?”  I asked, nosing at the conscious gray buck, who was still trembling with his eyes clenched shut.  “Come on, you.  It’s OK, noone’s gonna hurt you.”

The gray pony shook his head, shaking like a leaf.  I glanced at Lyrical, who shrugged, gesturing to her horn.  I hrmphed and turned back to the quivering wreck of a pony.  “The unicorn isn’t going to magic you, it’s OK. She’s going away now, you’re safe.”  I shot a look at Lyrical again, and tossed my head in the general direction of the dead unicorns.  Lyrical huffed and moseyed off towards the fallen.  Engineer followed her, chuckling darkly.

I gently scruffled the gray pony’s head, rubbing his ears and examining him and his twin closer.  The two were in good health, with plenty of weight on them.  The normal sort of bashing-around-the-wasteland scars dotted their hides, and the thin line of white coat midway up one of his ears was a good indicator that he’d lost that ear, and it had grown back.  That meant these ponies had a support structure, an organization.  Magical healing strong enough to regrow an ear wasn’t easy to find for raiders.

The unconscious gray groaned, and his twin lunged to his hooves.  Flinging himself protectively across the still-limp pony he glared up at me, defiance written loud in his facial expression.  I took a step back, trying to look harmless and nonthreatening.

“Hey now, it’s OK, it’s OK.”  I said calmly.  The gray bared his clenched teeth at me, and his twin opened a pair of blue eyes.  Blinking slowly, he looked between the legs of his green-eyed protector, focussing in on me.  I ventured a small wave and smile.  “Hi!  Glad you could join us!  I’m Wicked Cut, and the griffin sneaking up behind you in case you get violent is Engineer Grimfeathers.”

There was a moment of stillness, the green-eyed gray going wide-eyed and panicked.  I took another step back, bracing myself but holding my friendly smile.  Engineer had indeed snuck up behind the two of them, which green-eyes saw as soon as he looked.  I was preparing to kick Stickbird into my grip, when blue-eyes stood, knocking green-eyes over as he did.  The pony groaned, rubbing his head with a hoof.  Green-eyes wiggled and tried to get up, but blue-eyes put a hoof on his chest.  Glancing at his twin with a sigh, the gray pony looked up at me.

“Hebbo.  I am Luuueeff.  Viis iss my buother, Sky.”  He said.  Engineer drew up in surprise, and I blinked myself.  Leaf, if turned out, was named after his brother’s eyes, and his brother was named after his.  The two ponies were brothers, and had been captured by unicorns.  The big blue stallion was named ‘Big’, sadly enough.  The mare that had died in the initial charge was called ‘Greeny’, and had been Big’s lover.  The unicorns were Hide Armor and Knuckle Head, and were very much deceased.  Leaf and Sky had collapsed crying against each other when they were told, and Big had wept as well.

The earth ponies were prisoners or slaves to the unicorns, it seemed.  Leaf didn’t have much tongue, so talking was difficult and wearing for him.  He had laid himself down for a nap, Sky curled up next to him. Asleep, the two were identical.  Leaving them, I helped Big make his painful way to the corpse of his lover.  The big blue crumpled next to the dead mare and I left him to his mourning.

Engineer had signalled Hellen back down, and she was standing guard over the whole scene.  I trotted up to her and plopped down, looking the griff over.  Hellen was alert and intent, her gaze sharp in that predatory way that only griffins had.  She met my gaze for a second, giving me a nod of acknowledgement, then returned to scanning.

“Wicked.”  She said shortly.

“Hellen.”  I replied.  “You know anything about these...  guys?”  I asked.  Hellen was all business, keeping a roving eye on every direction.  She shot me another quick glance, shaking her head.

“Never heard of ‘em. Gotta be more, too.  Four slaves and two slavers, all healthy?  Not stable long term.”  Hellen said confidently, then stalked off to keep watch.  I stayed, thinking hard.  The earth pony...  slaves...   had quieted down, the twins asleep and Big staring silently at the corpse of his dead lover.

It made a kind of horrible sense.  These guys were almost useless at fighting, and had been ignorant enough to run up on a polearm.  The only way that was workable was if you considered your fighters disposable, or at least very low valued.  Not enough information.  I got up and trotted to Engineer and Lyrical, who were investigating the dead unicorns.  Engineer had shot one of them in the neck, nearly removing his head.  The other had taken multiple shots to the chest, leaving a blasted wreckage framed by leather fringes.

The two had stripped the neck-shot unicorn of his blood soaked barding, which was a fairly plain cloth.  The heavy material would be tough and durable against wear and tear, and help protect against attack.  Just not very well.  It was almost comically light as armor, even compared to my own hoof-made suit.  The Talon armor that Lyrical and Engineer wore was a fortress of safety next to it.  While I was examining the barding, Lyrical had finished scraping the worst of the blood off it against the hard-packed earth.

High on the left chest of the barding, a symbol rode. A unicorn horn over a shoe, simple heavy black stitching on the tan fabric.  There wasn’t anything else remarkable or unique about the barding, and Lyrical discarded it with a grunt of distaste.  We turned to the second corpse and made the same examination of his ‘barding’, a full bodysuit of leather.  The thick, heavy garb would be more protective than the cloth armor of his fellow, but the thick hide was obviously and horribly pony.

Lyrical dropped the hide and turned away, falling to her knees to retch her breakfast out onto the hard ground.  I almost followed suit, the sound and smell of her distress tugging at my own guts.  I held on though, and the sounds faded as Lyrical mastered her gorge...  Or simply ran out of stomach contents.  I poked the leather armor around with the tip of my weapon, unwilling to touch it with my mouth.  There was a matching sigil on the chest of this pony’s armor, too.  The horn over shoe was burnt into the rough hide on this one, in the same place as the other.

Under their barding, the only distinguishing features of the two unicorns was their state of dead.  The heavy rounds from Engineer’s pistol had crashed into the chest of the leather wearer, leaving big holes in his chest and squishy ruin of most of his barrel.  The first pony to die had been shot in the neck, leaving almost half of the flesh on that important body part missing.  Aside from the case of bullet poisoning, the two unicorns were in excellent physical shape.  I patted Lyrical on the back as I left the corpses behind, joining Engineer.  Engineer had the saddlebags emptied out on the ground, picking through seperate piles of miscellany and junk.

I noticed two things immediately.  I wasn’t familiar with the use or workings of the two big slab-sided pistols, but they were there and in decent shape.  A brace of healing potions, gorgeously dark purple in their bottles.  There was a scattering of ammo, two different sizes.  Foodstuffs and canteens.  Chems,  inhalers and pills, Dash, Buck, Steady.

“Engineer...   These guys were idiots.  You dropped the unicorns before they got off a single spell.  Four earth ponies couldn’t fight their way through me.  How do they have so much good stuff?”  I asked, confused and a little alarmed.

“I have no idea kid.  But something isn’t right here. The armor...   The tactics...   The whole way the slavery thing is setup.”  Engineer said, pawing through the piles.  Caps gleamed, along with a wad of pre-war money.

“I’m a little worried here, Engineer.  I know I’m not the smartest pony in the Wasteland, but this looks like a scouting party.”

“I - eugh- don’t recognize their sigil, myself.”  Lyrical said, wiping at her face with a scrap of cloth.  “But I think Wicked’s right - these guys are part of something bigger.”

“What makes you say that?” Engineer asked distractedly, checking the pistols in the loot pile.  He handed the larger one to Lyrical, who gave the weapon a once-over before tucking it in her saddlebag.

“Thank you.  I just think there’s no way they’re solo.  They’ve got too much stuff, it’s too good.  These would have to be the most successful raiders ever to have that rack of healing potions.”

“And that doesn’t make sense, not with slaves.”  I put in.  “I agree with Hellen on that one.  This arrangement wouldn’t be stable long term.”

Engineer grunted noncommittally, stuffing the pre-war moneys into his saddlebags.  He handed the pouch of caps to me, and I stuffed them into my own bags.  The saddlebags themselves were clean enough to reuse.  I divided the healing potions between everyone, saving one out for Hellen. There was six potions for the seven of us.  Engineer waved one off, so I stashed three in the two sets of saddlebags.  Filling them out with the random junk that had been in them initially got them nice and balanced.

“Wicked.  We’ve got to get going.  The more I think about this, the unhappier I get.  Shattered Hoof was about two days away this morning.  If we can get moving and hurry, we can still make that.”  Engineer said.  He stretched his back and ruffled his wings.  “And we really need to take those ponies with us.

“Alright.  I didn’t want to use this, but I can hit the big guy with Hydra and a healing potion. That should put us back on our way.”  I offered.  Engineer nodded, then threw his head back and screeched into the sky.  Moments later, Hellen landed next to him.  I nodded to her as I trotted to Big.  He was staring morosely at the corpse of the green mare, his head pillowed on his forehooves.

“Hey.  Big?”  I asked. Big flicked an ear at me, but remained motionless.  He had arranged the body so that the injuries on her chest were hidden.  I wish I could say that she looked asleep, or some happy platitude like that.  But all she looked was dead.  I plopped down in front of his supine form, off to the side of his dead lover.  Reaching out a forehoof, I pulled Big’s face around to look directly at me.  He scowled, but didn’t pull himself away.  “I’m sorry, but we have to go.  And I’m not going to leave you crippled.  Your...  Owners I guess, had a dose of Hydra with them.  It should fix your back, but it’s gonna hurt.”

Big sighed, pulling his face out of my gentle grasp.  I tried to support him as he painfully pushed himself to his hooves.  He took one awkward step forward, gently stroking the side of the dead mare’s face with a hoof.  I hesitated, feeling out of place and guilty as I watched the tears roll down the side of Big’s face.  Big took a step back and turned away from his lover.  I hastened to follow.  We went just a couple steps away from her until Big stopped.

He made his slow way back to the ground, sitting down and then laying over on his side.  The blue of his coat was marred by bruises and blood from our fight, and I could see him panting.  His eyes were wide with terror as he looked up at me and nodded once.  I rummaged in my saddlebag, pulling the looted dose of Hydra out and examining it.  The drug wasn’t one I had ever used or seen used.  My father had mentioned that the tribe had a couple doses of it.  That made it precious.  He had said he hoped never to use it, because of the screaming.  That made it painful.

The drug was three syringes bound together with a hoof cup on the end.  They were capped with long needles.  Crude pictograms indicated they went into the actual heart.  I heard a ringing in my ears as my own heart started pounding.  The gray fluid visible through the glass of the syringe shook and rolled as I fit the assemblage onto my hoof.  I struck hard and fast, before I could hesitate any further.

The needles slammed through Big’s ribcage, and the button tucked between the needles activated the injectors.  The hiss of released pressure was drowned out by Big’s clenched-teeth scream.  The vile gray fluid pushed out of the syringes and the screaming intensified.  I struggled to pull the injector out of Big’s massive chest as he thrashed.  It finally came loose, and I fell backwards to my seat.  Big curled into a ball, then splayed out with a grunt.  As his legs shot out I could hear him dragging a breath through his locked jaw.

I watched the muscles in his back writhing under his skin, the meaty crunching and tearing sound digging into my ears.  Big screamed, his jaw flying open under the pressure of a howl of agony.  He thrashed, his front legs pounding into the hard packed ground.  Black lines formed on his back, bursting open to pour filth across his hide.  Big’s entire body clenched, his legs slamming into his body hard enough to drive the last of his air out of his chest.  The motion had brought Big upright, and he fell forward onto his face, then fell over on his side.

The big blue unicorn and I stared at each other.  I drew breath shakily, and turned to pull a healing potion out of my saddlebag.  I saw Leaf and Sky sitting behind me.  One of them was holding the other back, as that one struggled to get at me.  Huh.

I turned my back on the twins and lurched back to my hooves.  Kneeling next to Big, I gently lifted his head and poured the healing potion into him.  Big greedily sucked at the potion bottle, swiftly draining its contents.  The bottle empty, Big let his head flop back to the soil.  He let out a ragged sigh and closed his eyes.

I got back to my hooves and turned to the twins.  Leaf was the one who had held his brother back.  Have to remember that.  I pushed past them, retrieving the saddlebags I had assembled earlier.  I dropped them at the hooves of the twins, who had frozen in place, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Here. There’s some good stuff in these, but no guns.  I don’t think you guys need weapons quite yet.”  I said. I glanced up at Big, who was back on his hooves and stretching.  “We’ve got to get going.  If there was one scouting party, there’s got to be a ‘rest of them’ to scout for.  Oh, how I wish you guys could talk.”

Leaf opened his mouth, but I shushed him with a wave of a hoof. “Saddle up, we’ll talk once we’re safe.”

Big was standing, his legs spread wide and head drooping.  The poor pony was shaking on his hooves, as I cautiously approached him.

“How are you feeling, Big? Legs working?” Big looked up at me and nodded.  He took a shaky step, working his legs and back.  Craning around, Big examined himself as best he could.  I had to laugh at the big guy, bending himself in circles like a foal with a tail ribbon.  Big finished his self exam and gave me a big grin and a hug.  I awkwardly returned it, patting Big on the shoulder.

“Wicked, did the Hydra work?  We’ve got to get moving, Shattered Hoof needs to know about this before the rest of their gang show up at the front door.”

Big drew back from me and patted me on the shoulder.  Turning away, he trotted past the twins, who were almost done strapping on their saddlebags.  Big knelt next to the corpse of his green mare, delicately kissing her on the forehead.  Standing, he returned to my side.  Nudging me, Big tossed his head at the twins.  They stood waiting, expectant looks on their faces.

“Ok, Engineer, let’s go!”

We went.

---

Level Up!

Almost. you’re close, though.

---

As always, thanks go to Kkat, for FoE, and to VolrathXP, Tezz, and all my readers.  I can’t promise any greater frequency or quality of updates...  Not until I get back from vacation in september and get a new job!

Next chapter: To Be Alive Again.  Shattered Hoof changes everything. Wicked Cut gets a black eye. Hellen Damnation gets a pinprick in a very uncomfortable location!

Chapter 11: Running up That Hill (A Deal With Gawd)

We streaked across the beaten earth of the Wasteland. Overhead, Hellen was a speck only occasionally visible.  Closer in, Engineer powered through the swiftly darkening sky.  On the good ground, I pushed in the center of our makeshift herd.  Big was on one side of me, and Lyrical the other.  Ahead of us, the twins poured on the speed, flecks of foam flying off their pounding flanks.

We had almost launched from the scene of the fight, Engineer’s urgency infecting the rest of us.  Blinky clung to Lyrical’s saddlebags, both her hat and mine flapping and flopping around on his pink bullet head.  The miles poured away under our hooves, and the calm of running overtook me.  As always, the physical activity freed my mind to think.  Scouts were a bad sign, as weak as we were.  Even if I ignored the fact that they couldn’t be trusted and counted the three earth ponies, we would still be vastly outnumbered and overpowered by any significant force.  Not a happy place to be.  Shattered Hoof offered safety and numbers.

Not ‘Safety in Numbers’, no.  That would have applied if I was in a charge towards home, sure.  It might even apply to Shattered Hoof if the Talons as a whole proved more loyal - and more worth my loyalty - than had the group of them at the desalination plant.  Even if they weren’t my bestest of friends, the Talons needed to know about this force on their flank.  That was what was pushing Engineer, I was sure.  I just wanted to spend a day or two without something going pear-shaped.  Between the chaos at the plant and the fighting since, I was worn thin.

This was a big contrast to the fight that had preceded it, or the running battles in the plant.  A long run was wearing in a whole different way.  I felt the heat rising in the long muscles of my legs, and tossed my head.  A whinny caught the attention of Engineer, who screeched into the sky and slowed.  I pulled my gait down, easing from the headlong gallop into a more controlled trot.  Lyrical matched my gait, but Big held his, streaking ahead to nearly tackle the twins.  This got their attention at least, and the six of us cooled off at a walking pace, Engineer flumping to the ground and joining us in walking.

We paced in silence, our heavy breathing counterpoint to the clopping of hooves.  Engineer’s tread was silent in comparison.  Our breathing was slowing and normalizing, and I was starting to worry again. Lyrical was still blowing long controlled breaths, but harder and deeper than any of the rest of us.  Another thing to worry about.  I was OK, Engineer was OK, surprisingly the slaves were doing good, but Lyrical showed signs of exhaustion already.  Hellen thumped into the ground next to me and paced alongside, her tail lashing.

“Wicked.”  She said.

“Hellen.” I replied.  That was the extent of our conversation, an odd tension lingering between us.  I stifled a groan, another thing to worry about.  Lyrical’s breathing slowed, and Hellen favored her with a sharp look.

“Watch her.”  Hellen said to me, then sprung into the air.  I followed her as she disappeared into the sky, looking at Lyrical as the black and brown griff disappeared from my vision.  Lyrical was craned around examining her tail, tugging at the Talon armor with her magic.  I looked closer and scowled. There was a thin red line in the hide at the base of the armor, just above her tail.  I trotted closer, nudging her to get her attention.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Wicked.  Armor’s chafing some.”  Lyrical said.  She sounded tired, but still game.  I looked closer at the red mark.

“Yep.  I think it’s worth the risk, you should take it off and store it.  We’ve got to put some miles on.”

“Yeah...   I think you’re right.  Help me with the straps?”

I assisted Lyrical as she stripped her armor off.  Big watched curiously as we worked together.  Engineer looked up from where he was talking to Leaf and Sky, pacing over to me and Lyrical.

“Good call. She doesn’t have the endurance of you or the former slaves, she needs to be as light on her hooves as possible.”  Engineer said. “If it’s OK with you, we’ll bundle the armor up and have Big carry it, he’s holding out great.  All of them are.”

“That’s just weird, Engineer.  They were slaves, why are they so healthy?”  I asked.  Big was in close conversation with Leaf and Sky, gestures and grunting noises abounding.

“I dunno, kid. I just want to get them back to the Hoof.  This is bigger than me, I want advice from higher.”

Engineer’s reply made sense.  While I was on my own out here he had a structure to lean on, the Talons.  I grumbled as I bundled up the armor, carrying it to Big.  The big tongueless earth pony combined with the unicorns keeping him, had reminded me of Strongback.  The mute unicorn led me inexorably to the rest of Our Tacksworn.  I missed my home.  Every day the ruins were getting a little less ruined, the Wasteland was pushed back a little bit more.  My people were there, my father and my sister.  My father...

Would he be happy with what I had done? It hadn’t been a month, even.  Just a hoofful of days, and I had fought for my life, taken orders, given orders.  I had dodged gunfire and made a pet, and a friend.  I had lost someone who could have been a friend.

It had been a busy time, to say the least.

Big was amenable to carrying the armor, which strapped easily onto the earth pony’s broad back.  I thanked the larger pony and returned to Lyrical, who was pacing idly in a wide circle.  She smiled thinly, tossing her head at Engineer.  “If the big bird’s ready, let’s get going.”

“You sure you’re holding up ok?” I asked, forcing a smile onto my face.

“I’m sure I don’t have a choice.  How much longer is it to Shattered Hoof?”  Lyrical replied.  Her smile broadened under my teasing, and mine widened in return.

“Not sure. Probably the rest of today, and one more push after some sleep.  Running like this, we’ve got to be far ahead of their patrols.”

“Sure...   if their patrols are headed to Shattered Hoof, and aren’t just securing area they already hold.”  Lyrical replied.  My face fell.  We had assumed that Big and his buddies were the vanguard of an upcoming force, and we were fleeing across the Wasteland ahead of them.

That assumption crumbled in the face of Lyrical’s casual thought.  This mare was sometimes scary smart.  Scary smart and moving, Lyrical had taken off and was loping away.  Big and the twins tracked in behind her, and Engineer screeched into the sky as he took off.  I hastened to follow, kicking up gritty dust as I tore into a gallop.

The rest of the day passed like a particularly boring torture.  Lyrical was blowing and streaked with sweat, moving slower and slower as the sun arced towards the horizon.  I almost tumbled over my own hooves as Big made a complicated grunting call.  Leaf and Sky bent their courses around, putting Lyrical between them and Big.  With another grunt, they both surged in and boosted Lyrical into the air.  She yelped as she was flipped over, shrieking as she landed...

With a thump, on Big’s waiting back.  I shouted in alarm myself, powering forward to stop them by any means necessary.  Lyrical struggled to stabilize herself, and Big shifted into a faster canter.  As his gait smoothed, Lyrical found a secure position and laughed.

“OK, ok, I’m ok!” She crowed.  “Can you keep this up, Big?”

The blue pony tossed his head, laughing.  Even without a tongue, his energy and happiness rang in the sound.  With Lyrical situated, we increased our pace, and positively flew into the looming dark.  The plains we were streaking across did nothing to attenuate the sun’s light, and darkness fell like a blade.  We continued on, Lyrical’s horn casting a weak beam of light in our path.

Suddenly, out of the darkness a shape loomed.  Big, having taken over the lead, reared in panic, Lyrical tumbling off his back and Blinky rolling into the night.  The light from Lyrical’s horn spun crazy shadows as she tumbled, screaming.  It winked out, and all was shadow and chaos.  I dug in and skidded to a halt, Leaf (Sky?) bumping off of me and falling out with a grunt. The low mutters of the boys fell silent as I sucked in a gasp of air to yell.

“Shit.” Hellen said in the darkness.

“Young lady, you could have handled that better.”  Engineer’s acerbic voice came. “Miss Lyrical, are you OK?”

“Yeah, Engy, I’m just a little shaken up.”

“I’d prefer not to burn off a flare, can you manage a few more minutes of light?”  Engineer asked. I began fumbling in the darkness.  Lyrical’s hornlight had been brighter by far than the absolute shadow we occupied now.  Shakily testing each step as I moved, I made my way to where Lyrical’s voice had come from.

“Sure, I think.” Lyrical said, her voice thick with exhaustion.  “It is time to rest, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, we need at least some downtime.”  Engineer replied.  Lyrical’s voice was right in front of me, and when her horn flared to life, it almost blinded me.  I squawked in dismay, ducking my head to rub at my eyes with a hoof.  A sharp pain in my fetlock made me yipe, and I fell over as I jerked that leg up.  I landed heavily on my side, and stared into Blinky’s eyes. The molerat hissed, then crawled grumbling onto my withers, where he hung on my armor.

I shakily got back to my hooves, blinking at Lyrical.  She sat demurely, hiding her giggles behind a hoof.  I stuck my tongue out at her and blew a raspberry.  She gave up hiding her giggles and laughed.  Leaving her, I checked the others. Big and Leaf were OK, smiling at my discomfort.  Engineer was talking quietly to Hellen, and Sky was already sprawled out asleep,snoring quietly.

With everyone present and accounted for, we bedded down for a cold camp.  Hellen curled into a ball of fur and feathers and immediately obtained a comatose state.  Engineer wasn’t far behind her, and I sat watch with Leaf as Lyrical shoved a cleanish spot in the dirt before curling up herself.  Her horn light flickered, dimmed, and doused itself as she nodded off.

“Oooo arrrree a ood poooomy, wigged”  Leaf forced out.

“Thank you, Leaf. You guys are alright, too. Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up for the next watch.”

“Oh gay”

The soft sounds of sleep came from Leaf, then, and I watched into the night.

---

Sky nudged me awake the next morning, the barest hint of light revealing his silhouette.  Lyrical was stretching, arching her back in the gloom.  I took a moment to admire the sight.  It wasn’t...

It wasn’t sexy, really.  But it was pleasing at a whole other level, Lyrical was growing into a sturdy survivor of the Wasteland.  Whatever was coming, I felt better about my chances if we were working together.  And her chances, for that matter.  That mare had proven herself to be a smart, clever pony, but all the intelligence in the world wouldn’t protect you against a mad ghoul.

I shook myself awake and walked off the night’s stiffness.  We had passed out in poor order, sprawled in loose clumps on the cold ground.  Morning found the lot of us stiff and sore, working our muscles loose and eating trail rations from our saddlebags.  Big caught my eye, rolling and wiggling on the ground before sprawling like a rug, every leg at maximum extension.  He heaved a deep sigh and surged to his feet.

I stood silently as Big stared down our backtrail.  I flashed back to the green mare, the look of resignation on her face as the point of my weapon entered her chest.  A single tear rolled down Big’s face, which he wiped away with a hoof.  I winced as he turned and walked to me.  I searched his face for anger, for any sign of the pain and rage I expected from a pony in his situation.  All I saw was sadness, and something I couldn’t read.

Big dropped a foreleg over me and leaned in, pulling me into an embrace.  I was completely clueless as to what was happening.  It was all I could do to stay standing under the weight of Big, who was...  Sobbing on my shoulder.  I returned his hug, stroking his stubbly shaved head awkwardly.  “I’m sorry, Big, I’m so sorry.”

We stood locked in an embrace for long moments, until Big broke loose and pushed me back.  Looking into my eyes, the stallion’s expression was unreadable.  I couldn’t break loose of his gaze, just as much as I couldn’t have broken his embrace.  Big nodded once, then turned and trotted away.  Leaf and Sky helped him into the strapped bundle of Lyrical’s armor.

I checked my friends.  Everyone stood ready, looking to me for guidance.  I tossed my head at Engineer and Hellen.  “Get on up and keep your eyes open.  We’re not home safe yet.”  I looked across the pony members of our group.  Blinky was curled up on Big’s back, tucked into Lyrical’s armor. Leaf and Sky stood stolidly, watching the griffs as they curled into the sky. Big was peering curiously at Blinky, who ignored his gaze.  Lyrical smiled brightly at me and I smiled back, throwing a wink in. “If Engineer’s right, we should make it to the Hoof by noon. Follow me!”

Off we went.  The morning sun peeked up over the horizon, and in minutes we were moving through the light of day.  As the air warmed under the gaze of the sun, we streaked across the Wasteland.  I felt sweat spring out on me almost immediately, and hit my canteen hard.  We were running low on everything, but it shouldn’t matter.  Enough water to carry us through to the Hoof, and everything would be handled from there.

Or so Engineer had said.  Our course merged with a path, hard-beaten dirt barely distinguishable from the untouched Wasteland.  The small difference in feel under hoof was strange, unknown.

I was too involved in breathing to actually sigh, but I felt a sigh as I ran.  The Talons as a whole were still an unknown quantity.  With my experience of the detachment in the plant, I was fairly sure that we would survive the initial encounter.  What happened after that depended on...  Too much for me to make a guess.

It would be complicated.

The sun crawled up the sky, sweat poured from our bodies and our canteens grew empty.  Shattered Hoof popped over the horizon, suddenly.  I had barely understood the strange lump on the edge of vision as a wall with the string of cloud over it as a plume of smoke, when Engineer swooped out of the sky, gyring in front of us and landing in a plumpf of dust.  We curved out around him and wore our way down to a stop, gathering in front of his feathery form.  Engineer blinked at the sky as our dust settled, then chuckled. “Hellen’s going on ahead. We’re going to proceed slowly in, so they have time to get a look at us.  If anyone shoots, just stop and kneel - they’ll be warning shots.  We should be OK, though.”

We rumbled our acknowledgements and resumed our trek at a walking pace. The home of the Talons crawled towards us, revealing a stout wall studded with details.  I could make out slots of windows and the occasional lump of a turret breaking up the tan monotony of the visible structure.  It became clear that there was a gate set into the wall, just as Hellen soared over it and dropped out of sight inside.  The path drew us along to the compound wall, and I started to get seriously impressed by the Talons.  The wall was new construction, well built and solid.  I figured it was mainly local stone, which gave the impression that the whole place had grown out of the ground.

Flickers of magic glow shone through the horizontally slotted windows.  The occasional glint of sunlight on glass came with them.  “Careful now.  The Hoof is watching us.”  Engineer muttered.  It wasn’t a half dozen more steps before his words were underlined.

A unicorn popped up over the top of the wall, a horn of some sort held in front of him in his magic.  Eying us, he placed the horn to his lips.  “You there, halt! Engineer will come in last, the rest of you approach the gate one at a time.”

We passed a look around the members of our group. Engineer winked at me, then settled down on the path.  I shrugged, maneuvering my way past the others and walking towards the gate. I kept my pace slow, and my head up.  The various glints and glows resolved into unicorns with rifles, some following me and some staying fixed on the rest of the folks waiting.  The gate was massive, easily a half dozen ponylengths tall and almost that wide.  There was a smaller door next to it, just right for a pony or griffin.  This stood open, revealing a short passageway with slotted windows.

The passage immediately angled away from the main gate, and I made my way through it, cautiously watching the staring eyes looking in those slit windows.  There was another door at the end of the short hallway.  I suddenly realized what I was in.  So long as the big gate stayed closed, the only way in was through this little slot - or over the walls.  And while I was stuck here, they could fire in.  I couldn’t fire out. Not easily.

That was not a pleasant thought.

“That’s far enough, youngster.”  A gruff voice said, its owner staring through the thin window.  “You got any guns on you?”

“Sir, I think I may have a small one in my saddlebags, but I’m not sure.”  I said immediately, carefully flicking just an ear to indicate the bags bulging on my back.  The eyes blinked at me, and narrowed to slits.

“How in Celestia’s resume does that work?”

“We had to pack in a hurry, sir.  My companion Lyrical has picked up a couple pistols along the way, and I think one of them might be in my bag. I don’t know for sure, sir.”  I replied.  It was increasingly difficult to keep my breathing calm and keep myself still.  I wasn’t a griffin, meant for the skies and the air, but I was starting to feel awfully cramped in here.

“Alright.  I want you to stand still, I’m gonna pop your saddlebag off and move it back down the hall here.”  Gruff-voice said, and my ears flickered madly as his magic undid the straps of my saddlebags and floated them off.  I kept still, watching the stranger’s eyes as best I could.  Shortly I was without my bags, standing in my armor, with Stickbird at my side.  “That stick of yours a weapon?”  Gruff voice asked shortly.

“Yes it is.”  I said with a sigh, my ears pinned back with agitation.

“OK, lad, I know it’s a trouble, but the Talons can’t afford to play risks.  Go ahead and turn around, then huck that weapon down there with your saddlebags.”

I did so, making sure to keep my movements slow and obvious.  Stickbird slid out of its straps easily, and I ‘hucked’ it gingerly to thunk into the floor next to my saddlebags.  The weapon stuck in point first, and wobbled over to lean on the wall.  I turned my head a tiny bit to shoot a look at Gruff Voice, not bothering to hide the irritation in my expression.

With a chuckle, Gruff Voice instructed me to come into the main compound.  Two griffins waited just past the inner door, and I couldn’t help but smile at Hellen, dusty and damp with sweat.  “Hey Hellen.  I’m glad to see that was a beast of a run for all of us, not just us ground types.”

“Ha. Wicked, that was a beastly run for anyone, make no mistake.”  Hellen said.  “Wicked Cut, this is Briar Weed-  ow!”  Hellen was interrupted by the second griffin, a rangy long-limbed male in nearly identical colors and patterns.

“What my sister means to say is Briar _Thorn_.  I’m an inside security griff’ for the Talons, and today I’m your watcher.”  The larger griff said.  Hellen stuck her tongue out at him, snapping it back into her beak when he shot her a look.  I started to relax, just a little bit.  “First thing first, we’re gonna get you watered and fed, then we’ll talk about what happens next.  Please head East, I’ll follow you.”

“What about the rest of my friends?” I asked, standing firm.  Hellen’s brother shrugged and gestured East.

“We’re splitting you up, for now. Aside from Engineer and Hellen, you’re complete unknowns, and there’s five of you.  After your initial briefings, you should be free to move about on your own or together.”

I grumbled, but turned and trotted off.  With a snort and a fluttering of wings, Hellen landed in front of me.  The dark griffinne led me out from under a walkway and across a compound.  I’d used the word before, referring to the desalination plant.  Here it actually applied.  The first thing to catch my eye was a pair of forts.  Low walls, studded with chunks of girder.  Tucked behind them were two squat buildings.  Their flat faces glared at the gate, ponies and griffs watchful in the upper windows.

Hellen trended away from the outer wall as we cleared the forts, passing a blocky building on our right.  I gaped around as we proceeded, soaking in every detail.  The buildings were nothing like Our Tacksworn.  We cleaned and repaired and made as right as we could, helping buildings shrug off the hard wear of time.  Shattered Hoof was..   New.  The weight of time sat lightly on buildings that were built to be exactly where and what they were.  We went by two more long buildings, and approached a largish block of a structure.

The building was almost featureless, a bland stone structure the same color as the walls and the rocks.  The only thing that kept it from being boring was brightly painted designs.  Brightly colored ponies and griffins cavorted in paint on the side of the building, giving it an almost playful appearance.  I shot a glance over my shoulder to see what Lyrical thought of it.  I turned back forwards scowling.  The Talons reasons for separating us seemed legitimate, but I certainly didn’t like the idea.

Hellen opened one of a pair of double doors set into the building, and I followed her inside.  The floor here on the ground level was packed earth, with grass happily growing in the lights hung from the ceiling.  A short walk down a hallway, and Hellen stopped at the base of a stairwell.  Her brother stopped me with a taloned hand on my shoulder, and Hellen went into a door marked “Cafe”.  I heard her talking to someone on the other side, but only had enough time to shoot a confused look at Briar before she reappeared, paper bags held aloft in her talons.

“Lunch!” Hellen said, heading up the stairs with a spring in her step.  Briar nudged me, and I followed.  I was feeling the drag on my limbs by the time I made the top of the stairwell, and it was with a sigh of relief that I followed Hellen into a small room. There was a small table with multiple seats.  My eyes were drawn to the seat nearest the door, hoofcuffs dangling from bolts set in the table and floor.  Here on the second floor, that surface was concrete.  I paused in the doorway, eying the hoofcuffs warily.  Hellen dropped the bags on the table, plopping into the furthest chair with a sigh.  I sidled past the hoofcuffs, noticing that the chair itself was bolted to the floor.  The side chair was my destination, and I slid into it gratefully.

Briar grinned at me in that griffish way, and I returned it as confidently as I could.  Making himself comfortable in the bolted-down chair, the griffin’s grin widened.  “naw, this one’s not for you.”  He offered, reaching into the bag in front of him.  “Aww, this one’s pony.”

Briar shoved the bag over to me, and dug into another one.  Hellen followed suit, and I nosed into mine.  Hay fries and a box of salad!  I made swift work of the chow, watching Hellen and Briar.  The siblings were relaxed, chatting idly about goings-on at Shattered Hoof in the last weeks.  I finished my lunch and tucked the garbage away in the bag, looking up to see Briar watching me intently.  I slowly pushed the bag to the center of the table as Briar’s grin widened.

“I like you, kid.  You’ve got balls, but you’re not a dick about it.”  Briar declared, sitting back in his chair.  Hellen let out a gusty snort of laughter from where she was sprawled in her chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Thanks, Briar...   I think.”

“So, let’s start the debriefing.  The first encounter you had with the Talons was...  “

“When Four-Claw shot me.”  The silence that met that little remark was precious.  I was starting to get a little twitchy about putting myself under the power of the Talons.  Sure they had the upper hoof, but their attitude about it was frustrating.  “Well I suppose it was a warning shot, but really...”

It didn’t take that long to be ‘debriefed’, which turned out to mean telling them my story.  Briar was very interested in any of the interactions between Brick and the leadership of the Collegiate.  We only touched on Hellen, who had fallen asleep in her chair.  Briar said someone else would handle that.

Someone else would handle my attempted murder.

The tips of my ears went cold as that sunk in.  I felt my smile pull back from my eyes.  Briar trailed off in the middle of his question, something about the ghouls.

“Briar...   “  I said. It was my turn to trail off.  I shot a look at Hellen, face up and snoring in a tangle of limbs.  I rubbed my eyes, taking slow deep breaths.  I carefully placed my forehooves on the table, lifting my head to look Briar in the eye.  He looked confused at my sudden change of attitude.  “She tried to kill me.”

“...And you defeated her.”  Briar managed, blinking.  “I don’t see the problem...?”

“Briar, what rank do you hold in the Talons?”

“Decurio - I run the center claw unit.”  Briar replied.  I held his gaze as he looked between me and Hellen.  “Why?”

“Are there any ponies that have that rank, or higher rank.”  I paused to draw a breath.  “Available?”

“Ahhhh... “

“Briar.  Take your sister, and go get a pony.  We’re done here.”

Silence reigned as Briar woke Hellen and ushered her out of the room.  I made myself as comfortable as I could in the strange chair.  I craned my head to watch through the crack of the door as it drifted shut.  The click of the latch was followed by the clack of a lock, and I smiled and looked up at the ceiling.  I felt my tension pulsing in my temples, staring at the boring flat surface of the walls.  There were hanging lights in the center of the room, and I passed the time examining them.  It was amazing how simple the lights were, bowls of metal with big glowing bulbs in the center of them.

Flexible cables were tied to the chains that held the lights, and they ran along the ceiling to a metal box.  Piping from the box ran to the wall, and down to a switch.  It disappeared there, which most likely meant -

The click of the door unlocking pulled me out of my daze.  I shifted in my uncomfortable chair as the door swung open, revealing a stout earth pony, grinning in a well worn suit of black Talon armor.  He strode into the room as if he owned it.  I suppose in a sense of the term, he did.  The muscular brown pony propped a foreleg on the bolted-down chair and grinned at me.  All I could detect from his expression was happiness.

Wow.  That was worrisome.  I kept my expression flat and returned his look.

“Would you mind explaining why I just put one of my more promising griffins into a jail cell, and her brother in a different one, at his request?”  The buck asked.  I blinked, thinking fast.

“Because she tried to kill me, he was slow to admit it, and apparently he’s rather concerned about it now that he’s realized it was serious.”  I replied.  “How’s Hellen?”

“She’s good, actually.  Not happy, but that’s understandable.”

“Good, good.  What’s your name and rank, Talon?” I asked, stretching back and adopting a relaxed pose.

“Tesserarius Top Shelf, Left Hand of the Talons.”

We sat in silence for a long moment, staring at each other.  I forced myself to stay casual, to blink and breathe casually.  Top Shelf maintained his grin, comfortably propped against the back of his chair.

“So, let’s start over.  Brick threw you in, why?”  Top Shelf threw out.  His words plopped out and landed on the table with a dull thud.  The grin never so much as flickered.

“In?”  I sputtered.  That grin widened, if anything.

“Into service. Into the tunnels. Into combat. Take your pick, kid.”

The pony’s grin was frustrating.  The tables had been turned on me, and I didn’t like it.  Also, what did I know of the motivations of the Talons staffer?

“‘Cause I followed orders and I’m awesome?”  I had to get control of the situation back, or at least get my hooves under me.  Top Shelf brayed laughter, throwing his head back and getting his gut into it.

“Oh wow, yeah...  OK.  Seriously, though, Wicked.  I know I’m asking you to see inside another pony’s head, but what do _you_ think Brick’s reasoning was for putting you on the team?”

“Melee support.  He mentioned that he was short enough on melee fighters that he couldn’t put together a group to go down, and still protect the eggh- Collegiate.”

“The Eggheads wouldn’t let him leave the top uncovered?”

“Yes, sir.”  I cursed myself internally, but Top Shelf’s whole being demanded respect.  His Talon armor was worn, but perfectly clean and maintained.  His gaze was direct and unwavering, and his body language was relaxed but alert.  It would have been intimidating, even if he wasn’t almost absurdly muscular.

“Interesting, interesting.  Do you remember anything else about Brick’s interaction with the Eggheads that sticks out?”  The grin was mostly gone, hovering around the corners of Top Shelf’s mouth and in his eyes.  I wasn’t getting my hooves under me in this conversation, and I was starting to get more and more confused.

“Uhm, well.  They were threatening to call the contract void, especially after Chalice got killed.”

“Ahhh, Chalice.  She died to ferals, right?”

“Yessir, there were a dozen, maybe 15.  I was staying behind as a rear guard, and one ghoul made it past the Talons.”  I paused to wipe my eyes.  Between Top Shelf and the topic at hand, I was starting to get rattled.  “I got that one, but there were two behind it, and I messed up, let one through.”

“What could you have done differently?”  Top Shelf asked. His green eyes were kind now, no humor on his face.

“I don’t know, sir. I tried to delay one with a shoulder block, but he knocked me over instead.  Everything went south from there.”

“Hmmm...  “  Top Shelf said, dropping off the back of the chair and moving over to me.  I put my head on my forelegs, closing my eyes.

“Yeah.  By the time I got to my hooves and dealt with the one that I tackled, the other was already... In Chalice.  There was nothing I could do but kill it.  And I killed it a lot.”

“Didn’t bring her back though.”  Top Shelf said, patting my shoulders kindly.  I drew a deep gust of breath, letting it out in a sigh.  I straightened, to find Top Shelf considering me.  “That was the first real combat you’ve ever been in, wasn’t it?”

It wasn’t a question. I nodded in response, and Top Shelf shook his head.

“Puked your guts out, sucked it up and handled it.  Figured you would deal with it later, when you had time?”

Again, it wasn’t a question.  I nodded, gesturing with one hoof uncertainly. Top Shelf patted my shoulder gently, then moved to the seat across from me, dropping into it without ceremony.

“That is a completely normal reaction.  I’m surprised, I must admit.  From what Hellen and Engineer have reported, I expected you to be a salty veteran.  Brick’s initial report talks of you in glowing terms, too.”

“I...   I just tried my best.  You Talons are alright, and Lyrical and Chalice...”  I trailed off, flopping my forehoof in an uncertain gesture.

“Heh.  Let’s leave that for a bit, focus on something different.  Tell me about Hellen.”  Top Shelf asked, and we were off to the races.

I warmed to this new topic, more than willing to move past things I wasn’t comfortable with.  I told the story again, trying not to exaggerate any of the details or my actions.

“Wait, wait, you pissed yourself?”

“Well, I wasn’t wearing anything, so I just..  pissed.  Most of it got on her.”

“Wow..  I just..  wow.”

The whole story seemed to make Top Shelf very pleased.  He was kicked back in the chair, relaxed and watching me. “So, I think I’ve got the facts of the matter straight.  Really, there’s only one question.  What do you want to happen to Hellen?”

What did I want?  Hellen had been pretty soundly yelled at, and punished.  I considered the aggressive young griffin. Young griffin.

That made the decision easy.

“Hellen’s not all grown up yet, Top Shelf.  She’s been corrected, and punished.  All I think needs to happen now is that she be taught.”

“Taught?”

“Well, yeah.  She’s not a bad griff, just...   intense.  And she doesn’t read pony body language or customs very well.  She needs taught how to interact with people outside of...” I trailed off, waving a hoof in the air.  “Outside of being a Talon.”

“Huh.”  Top Shelf trailed off into silence, staring at the ceiling.  I could just follow the rhythm of his thoughts by the bouncing of his gaze.  I waited patiently until he leaned forward, pushing himself off his chair.  “Alright then.  Let’s go see Gawd.”

Who?

Chapter 12: In Spite of All The Danger

It turned out Gawd was the leader of the Talons.  Her rank was “Head”, and as a non-Talon, it was appropriate and expected for me to call her  “Ma’am”.  Her office was further into the compound, Top Shelf explained as we walked.  I kept my silence, trying to understand what was going on.  It made sense that the Talons would be interested in the conduct of one of their own, but Top Shelf’s questioning had spent as much time focussed on the Eggheads and Brick as it had on Hellen.

Well, now that I put it that way...

I put that aside to concentrate on what little I knew about Gawd as we retraced our steps through the building.  The leader of the Talons was obviously held in deep respect by the rank and file.  I remembered Kettle Bell, specifically.  Back in the cafeteria, back in the She had shaken her red mane forward to cover one of her eyes, almost hiding behind the scrubby fall.  I think it was the twitch of yearning for shears and a comb that had cemented the memory in my head, but the burly mare had looked almost worshipful.

“Kid, if you ever meet Gawd...”

She hadn’t even been able to finish the statement.  Laughter took over, and I was left confused and ignorant.  Her reaction though, had provided a lot of useful information.  Now that I knew she wasn’t talking about religion, anyway.  And that...  Was it.

Great.  So I was walking through an unfamiliar...  Community.  With an unfamiliar pony, headed to meet someone that had a reputation bordering on the religious.  No stress there.

And damnit, I was tired.  The tense energy I’d gotten from our arrival and the tiny boost from the bagged lunch had just about worn off.  Trotting after Top Shelf was about all I could do, as he led me out of the shockingly brightly colored building and further into the sprawl of Shattered Hoof.

Way further.  We passed several squarish buildings, their dull earth tones making the splashes of color stand out in eye-watering brightness.  There was no rhyme or reason to their designs that I could see.  Our course brought us to the furthest corner, away from the door set in their massive wall.

I felt a dull flicker of surprise when Top Shelf opened the pony door in what looked like a workshop or repair bay.  The leader of the Talons worked in a mechanic’s shop?

Not the case.  I blinked at the gloom inside, facing a broad tunnel that angled down into the ridge backing Shattered Hoof.  Rails ran down the center of the tunnel, as well as hoofpaths on either side.  Lights in cages dangled from the ceiling,  pushing back the blackness of the underground.  Top Shelf pulled a hard hat with a light on it out of a locker, throwing it to me and donning one of his own.

“The light starts with a turn of the lens, like so.”  He demonstrated.  “Gawd’s office is down here.”

Top Shelf proceeded down the tunnel.  I shook off my weariness and followed after, marvelling at the stallion.  Somehow, even this casual walk was a military operation for him.  I pushed through my weariness and went.  The path was windy, curves followed by abrupt changes in direction.  I paused to lean against one of the corners, watching Top Shelf in the off-white glow from the lamp on my head.

Top Shelf stopped, turning and jogging back to me.  His light glared into my eyes, and I held a hoof up in front of them.  Top Shelf turned to the side, and I dropped my hoof back to the ground with a thump.

“You OK, kid?”  Top Shelf asked.  I shook my head, sending shadows bouncing crazily over the corners and walls.

“Tired, Top Shelf.  Been running for days, didn’t sleep for beans,”  I replied.  Stertching my neck and rolling my shoulders, I huffed in a huge lung-stretching breath.  “I’ll be OK. Let’s go.”

“Alright, Wicked.  Let’s go meet Gawdyna.”

Gawdyna’s office was behind a slab of Stable door, its metallic polish standing out against the rough stone of the tunnel wall.  The tunnel itself carried on past the door, winding its way down into the darkness.  I examined the door as we approached it, idly wondering what number the stable was.  Instead of a number, the center of the door bore a silhouette of a stooping griffin. The light stopped here though, and so did we.  Top Shelf walked without hesitation to a pressure plate next to the door, which put his snout nearly in the muzzle of a turret.  The barrel twitched to follow his every movement, a matching turret on the other side keeping a close watch on me.  I felt a weak twinge of panic under my fatigue, but couldn’t muster the energy to do anything with it.

“Identify yourself,”  A cold robotic voice demanded.

“Top Shelf, Tesserarius.  And Guest.”  Top Shelf replied immediately.  The turrets rotated away and folded their barrels down.  There was a grumbling groan of heavily loaded machinery, and the cogwheel Stable door rotated out of the way, revealing...

A short stretch of hallway.  At the end of it was a perfectly normal metal door, a narrow wire-reinforced window letting a yellow glow of light into the hallway.  Top Shelf led me to that door and rapped twice on it with a hoof.

“Enter”

Top Shelf opened the door, and we stepped into the office of one of the most powerful figures in the Wasteland.

It was not at all what I was expecting.  Instead of luxury and beauty, the office was a cluttered mess of military...  stuff.  Some of it was easily recognizable, swords and guns, a set of Talon armor.  Other items weren’t.  Some sort of spherical robot wired into a huge red switch.  A single scale bigger than my head, glimmering all the colors of the rainbow over a rich purple.  A huge desk took up most of one end of the room, battered steel in the ugliest shade of off-green I’d ever seen.  Behind it sat...

Gawd.

Top Shelf had dominated the room when he walked in, through his personality and confidence.  Gawd had those in spades, along with the carnivorous aura and general sharp pointiness of her species.

It was not easy to even be in the same room as her.  As tired as I was I still felt a jolt of fear, stronger than when the turret outside was pointed right at my face.  Gawd was bent over the massive desk, scribbling on some or other sheet of paper.

“Top Shelf,”  Gawd said,

“Head.  We’ve had an interesting day.  New arrivals with fascinating news,”  Top Shelf replied.  Gawd paused in her writing, looking up at him.  Seeing me raised one of her eyebrows, and she focussed on me with that predatory gaze.  I stood completely and totally upright, forcing myself to meet her eyes.

“Define ‘interesting’, Tesserarius.  What did this Wastelander have to tell you that brought him here?”

“To start with, he showed up at the main gate with Hellen and Engineer.”

Both of Gawd’s feathery eyebrows shot up at this.  “Interesting indeed.  Go on.”

“He was also accompanied by one of the Eggheads, which sums up half of my interest here.”  Top Shelf said, pacing in front of Gawd’s desk.  He gestured at me, still standing rigidly.  “The other half is what they ran into on the way here from the facility contract.”

“And what was that?”  Gawd asked, rising from her seat and stretching.  I felt the tips of my ears light on fire as the feline fur stretched over the curves of her haunches.  Gawd may have had some years on her, but the attraction of her power was still undeniable.  I shook my head and refocused on her face, which was looking at me curiously.  Shooting a glance at Top Shelf revealed him looking at me as well, grinning broadly.

“Ah, sorry.   When we were just a day out of the desalinization plant, we were attacked.  Two unicorns, and their four earth pony slaves.”  I began to relax, the fatigue pushing the tension and fear out of me.  “The unicorns and one of the slaves died in the fight, and we think - we’re certain...    That they were a scouting party.”

“Ohhh ho.”  Gawd plopped back into her seat, clicking her beak.  “Six strong is fairly large for a scouting party.  Did you recover any intelligence from them?”

I nodded at the majestic griffin.  “Yes ma’am.  They had a sigil, a unicorn’s horn over a pony shoe.  They were well fed, fairly well armed.  They didn’t have any uniforms or common items.  One of the unicorns wore ponyhide armor.”  I trailed off, scuffing a hoof on the battered steel of the floor.  “And the slaves...   Didn’t have tongues.  They had been cut out.”

Gawd sat back into her chair and traded glances with Top Shelf.  The stallion leaned into me, draping a hoof over my shoulders.  “Don’t worry about that, kid.  We’ve got excellent medical support here, we should be able to fix them.”

I blinked in astonishment.  If the Talons could fix a tongue that had been ripped out...    They could fix Strongback!  It suddenly became very important to get this group on my side.

“In any case it, does seem to be a legitimate threat, Head.  The lad’s story matches what Engineer had to report, and I’ve seen the slaves with my own eyes.  They’re in excellent health - aside from their tongues.  Something isn’t right, and it bears investigation.”

Top Shelf gave me a squeeze and trotted up to the desk.  Gawd was deep in thought, idly tapping a talon on the side of her beak.  She blinked and focussed on Top Shelf, who was waiting patiently.  “Get those slaves healed up, and find out everything you can about their group.  Get the boy and his group some quarters, and let them rest.”

“Thy will, Head of the Talons.”  Top Shelf said, saluting.  He turned, nudging me.  I snapped out of my doze and headed out of Gawd’s office.  Behind me, Top Shelf paused to flip the switch on the robot thingy.  As the door closed behind us, I heard a high pitched whine and a crackle of static.

“Yes, Gawdyna?  You haven’t turned this spritebot on in a long time...”

The door cut off the rest of their conversation, and I trotted back the way we came.  My headlamp made the shadows bounce and sway again as we made our way back to the surface.  MY vision blurred in even the dim light at the top of the tunnel, the day’s fatigue pulling at strings inside of my head.

Top Shelf plucked my hard hat off and tossed it back in the locker, giving me a friendly cuff as I rubbed at my eyes.  “You look rough, son.  Let’s get you off to bed, this will all hold till the morning.”

I nodded, my head feeling like it was flopping around on the end of my neck.  I followed Top Shelf back through the Talon compound.  The building I had had my ‘debriefing’ in swam into view.  I was crashing hard, now.  I went inside and turned to the left, muzzily heading back towards the room I’d spent an unpleasant time in.  The tug on my tail sidetracked what little line of thought I was traveling on, and I just stopped.

Top Shelf tugged again, and I turned to face him.  With a toss of his head, he gestured behind him.

Ah.

I followed him up a set of stairs, and in a door.  When the light came on, Lyrical poked her head out from the top rack of a bunk bed.  Seeing me, she grunted happily and disappeared back onto the top bunk.  In a soft aura of magic, Blinky floated out.  I grabbed the sleeping molerat out of Lyrical’s magic and placed him on the bottom bunk.  Turning back to Top Shelf, I waved blearily and climbed onto the blissfully soft mattress.  The Tesserarius, Left Hand of the Black Talons mercenary group, chuckled quietly as he shut the light off and gently closed the door behind him.

I didn’t remember anything after that, as sleep came out of the darkness and thumped me with a brick.

---

The next morning dawned.  That’s a safe assumption, even in the Wasteland, even with the weather patterns best described as ‘weird’.  I’m not certain, though.  I slept through it,  only waking up to a brisk knocking on my door.

“BLrzxt!”  I mumbled at the door, which continued to broadcast the knocks of someone far more awake than I.  I fumbled out of blankets I wasn’t aware existed, untangled my molerat and dropped him on the pillow, and rolled out of bed.  I stretched like I had been tied in a knot, and felt the delicious stiffness of muscles worked hard and well rested afterwards.  It flavored my gait, making the short approach to the door a stompy affair.  I fought with the unfamiliar latch on the door, eventually pulling it open to reveal Engineer.  The griff’s beak dropped in a grin when the door swung open.

“About time you’re awake, kid.  You’re wanted in the Council chamber, Hellen’s called for you as a witness.”

I was immediately completely awake.  Eyes wide, I shot a glance over my shoulder into the room.  Engineer shrugged, gesturing off to the hallway.  “They should be fine here.  Let ‘em sleep the day out, if they need it.”

“I...  OK.  Is there somewhere I can wash up, at least?”

“Yeah, there’s a bathroom on the way.”

Engineer led me down the hall, further into the building.  The lights were supplemented by a bright sun streaming through narrow windows set deep into the thick walls.  I glanced out one of them, catching a glimpse of children playing with a brightly colored ball.  Ponies and grifflets, with a griffon featureless in Talon armor standing guard over them.

Huh.

The bathroom was awesome.  The desalinization facility had been roughly functional and cleaned of the filth of ages, but only repaired enough to use.  This place was spotlessly clean and complete, it even had clean mirrors in one piece!  It was almost a sin to just splash water on my face and wipe myself down.  I could have spent a good part of the day in there scrubbing.

I had other commitments, though.  I blotted my face dry with a hanging towel, and trotted out of the bathroom.  Engineer led the way again, and shortly we were up a flight of stairs and outside of a pair of double doors.  Their dark wood and ornate moulding made them stand out against the utilitarian drabness of the halls and other doors.

“OK, Wicked.  Wait here, I’ll be back out in a moment.”  Engineer said, before knocking on the door.  It opened silently to reveal a pony, faceless in immaculate Talon armor. I heard a voice declaiming grandly as Engineer was ushered into the room.

“And should this griffin’s age be an extenuating factor in determining her punishment, for this crime she is so obviously guilty of-”

The voice cut off as the door swung to.  I blinked, confused and alarmed.  That didn’t bode well for Hellen.  Punishment, crime, factors of guilt...

Huh.

Hellen was on trial.  It was obvious what for, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.  I’d never worked with a griffin before I encountered the Talons, and I didn’t have anything to gauge the honesty or truthfulness of what Engineer had said about her.  Nothing except logic and intuition.  Logic told me that nothing Hellen had done contradicted Engineer’s words.  Intuition told me that Hellen was just a little older than Dawn, and dealing with her first crush as best she could.

The mental image of my adopted sister in manacles was not something I could stand for.  I whirled, planting my front hooves and coiling my back legs in.  That door was going to be flinders, and even if I needed the Talons, I couldn’t-

“Ahem.”

I plopped awkwardly back to all four hooves, looking over my shoulder at the anonymous Talon peering at me through the open door.  I felt a blush slam onto my face, hard enough that I winced.  “Uhm.  Hi.”

“Could you come in, please?  The council would like to talk to you.”  The pony swung the door wide, and I awkwardly tried to make my turn look calm and collected.  The inside of the chamber was the same as the outside, dark wood and ornate molding.  The shape of the room reminded me strongly of the outdoor amphitheatre back home.  Instead of a stage, the bottom well held an almost thronelike desk, looking down at a pair of tables from an elevated position.  Seated at one of those tables was Hellen and her brother.  The other held an unfamiliar earth pony.  Where Brick and Top Shelf had an impressive muscular form, this pony was almost spherical with fat.  His gaze was upon me as I walked into the door, as sharp as a griffin’s.

The raised table held Top Shelf, who looked vaugely interested in me, and completely emotionless.

I took a deep breath and a step forward.  The rows of benches that would have held the audience at home held an audience here.  I forced myself to ignore them, even to ignore Engineer’s face among the mass.  I followed the first step with a second, and then a third and fourth.  Before I had time to notice my nerves, I was opening the wooden gate the led onto the sunken stage.  I strode through it calmly and closed it behind me. It latched closed with a click, deafening in the stillness.

I met Hellen’s eyes as I turned, and I tried to put every bit of compassion and kindness I could into that moment’s connection.  I had to look away, though.  I met Top Shelf’s eyes and nodded, then raised an eyebrow.

OK, Top Shelf.  I’m here, now what?

Fortunately, he heard my unspoken question, and raised a hoof.  The already quiet room became silent.

“This pony before us has come to bear witness.  Since he is not a Talon, neither brought up nor trained in our ways, I will explain what we ask of him.  This is fitting, for while the Talons have discovered a good Way to live, we must acknowledge that it is not the only Way, and may not be the best.”

There was a low murmur of approval from the crowd.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the fat pony looking pleased.

“Wicked Cut, tribespony of the Wasteland.  You have been asked to be here to bear witness to the actions of my Talons, before a council of their peers.  You know me, Top Shelf, Tesserarius and Left Hand of the Talons.  I lead the council of the gathered Talons, as we hunt the dual game of Truth and Justice.”

Top Shelf paused to breathe, and I shot a quick glance at Hellen.  She was nervous, feathers in disarray.  Her brother had a calming hand on the back of her neck.

“In our Council, we have representatives to lead us on this difficult course.  You’ve met Briar Thorn, who speaks for his sister, and leads the hunt for Truth.  The gentlepone at the other table is Aquilifer Root, who speaks for the victim - in this case, you - and leads the hunt for Justice.”

Top Shelf paused again, and I took the moment to look closer at the fat pony.  He was a dull green, with a rather well kept mane of soft gold ringlets.  His gaze met mine squarely, and if it didn’t look predatory now it was still very intent.

“Root and Briar have already given their initial arguments, framing the scope of the hunt and the reason for it.  In short, the griffin Hellen stands accused of assaulting a non-Talon in peaceful circumstances.  With intent to cause grievous injury or death, the penalty is severe.  Engineer has already spoken, and delivered the report from her commanding officer.”  Top Shelf said, his voice rolling and serious in the council chamber.  “I would ask you now, to relate your story of the events of the evening in question.”

I thought frantically.  I knew exactly what he was talking about, and this was my best chance to influence the Talons in Hellen’s favor.  I had to step precisely correctly here.  Failure would endanger my relationship with the Talons (they could heal TOUNGES!), as well as Hellen’s future.  Her future with the Talons, or her future as a living being?  No pressure.

I opened with a simple retelling of what had happened - Waking up to claws and terror, biological defensive tactics, and Brick’s sure and swift handling of the situation.  The crowd was responsive and easy to read.  The griffins in the audience were secretly amused at Hellen’s attack, and several ponies hid smirks at my response.  Everyone approved of Brick’s handling of the initial offense, and more so of how I handled myself with him.

I wrapped up that part of the story and fell silent.  Root pushed his chair back and stood with a grunt, rocking back and forth as he walked forward.  “Gathered Talons of the council, it is clear and verified, by testimony and report-”

“Excuse me, I’m not done.”  I interrupted.  Root stopped talking, his jaw snapping closed with an audible clop.  “There is more to the story, and it ties Truth to Justice.”  Root made a rude gesture, returning to his seat.  I shrugged at him and he rolled his eyes at me.  I was smiling as I continued talking.

“Hellen is a young griffin.  She’s rash, headstrong, and agressive.  I am a young pony, and the same could be said about me.  On our way here, before we had reason to hurry, I challenged Hellen to a sparring match.  During that match, I intentionally humiliated and endangered her.  I came within a hoof’s width of crippling or killing her.”

The audience was raptly silent now.  I began pacing the small stage.  “I spoke further with Engineer on the matter.  His words explained a lot about young griffins, and revealed the face of the party truly at fault, the reason that I was put in mortal danger - as well as Hellen.”

The crowd made the noises I’d hoped for, a low inquisitive rumble oh shock and curiousity.  I almost grinned, but managed to keep both my flickering joy and quivering terror under control.  I was facing Hellen at this point, and couldn’t resist tossing the confused griffin a wink.  I turned confidently to face Top Shelf.

“You.”

I have to give the Talons credit.  Instead of the cries of outrage I had expected there was a sort of punctuated silence, as the crowd went ‘huh.’  and waited for Top Shelf to answer.  That worthy met my accusation with a single raised eyebrow, leaning forward and staring at me intently.

“Would you care to elaborate on that, young tribespony?”  Top Shelf said.  At that moment, he was Authority.  In this place and time, he was the Talons.

“Yes sir.  Here and now, you are the Talons.  In that sense then, you are at fault for sending someone young and under trained into the field.  Even without the complicating influence of an outsider like myself, the situation at that facility was bizarred and complicated.  It was a disservice to Hellen and to the Talons to have her there.  I’d fight with Hellen against any enemy you cared to name, Top Shelf, but I’d not consider her an adult.”

And for my final gambit...  I turned to Root, who had a profound scowl of displeasure on his plump face.  “I’m sorry Aquilifer Root, but the Truth of the matter here is that children are children and even -no, especially- in the Wasteland, we will have our childish follies.”  Root saluted me casually, and I turned to Hellen and her brother.  “Briar, Hellen.  I have been impressed by your Talons, by the people that you choose to associate with.  I’m honored to be one of those people.  You and me, Hellen, have done Justice by each other, in a crude childish eye-for-an-eye way.  The only thing that needs to happen from here is more training, more learning.”

I’d never seen Hellen look so shocked, not even when she was covered in my piss.  I extended a hoof to the griffin, and she took it gently in a taloned grip and shook it once.  As she released me, I turned back to Top Shelf.

“Whaddya say, Top Shelf.  Truth is out, and Justice has been served.”

“I say that the Talons are in fact, guilty.  We’ve relaxed our training and standards in a Wasteland we thought we dominated.  There can be no punishment for this crime save renewed vigilance.  This sentence will be carried out immediately.  Unless the council of the gathered Talons says differently?”  Top Shelf said, his well practiced voice filling the hall.  I grinned up at him as the crowd rumbled its agreement, and he tossed me a wink.

“Truth has been found, and Justice served.  This council is disbanded, until it is needed again!”

The audience members filed out of the hall in an orderly mass, leaving myself, Hellen and her brother, Root, and Top Shelf on the sunken stage.  Engineer joined us from the gallery as the last of the crowd filtered out of the door.  The older griffin clapped me on the back , sending me staggering with a laugh.  “Good work, kid.  Not only did you do good by Hellen, you helped the Talons out a lot today.”

“Indeed, indeed.”  Top Shelf said, coming from behind his raised desk.  “I couldn’t talk about it beforehand Wicked, but this worked out just as I had planned.”

“You planned it?”  I asked.  Hellen and Briar were silent, but Root snorted, reclining in his chair.

“Top Shelf has thought we were letting our young go too early for quite a while.  He manipulated the council and took advantage of the circumstances, all to push the Talons onto the course he had chosen.”  Root declared, waving one hoof in the air dismissively.  “Completely subverting the procedures and methods set in place to make these kind of changes.”

“In fact, completely ignoring them.”  Top Shelf agreed, looking quite pleased.  I glanced from him to Root.  The fat pony laughed, climbing out of his seat again.

“Top Shelf, I’m glad you’re devoted to the Talons.  I’d hate to see what you could do against us.”  Root said.  He tossed a casual salute at us and opened the gate.  “Good day.”

As Root made his ponderous way out of the council chamber, I plumped down on the floor.  I blinked up at Top Shelf, who was looking entirely too smug.  “Top Shelf, what the hell?”

“Wicked, I like you, I really do.  I think the Talons can have a mutually beneficial relationship with you and your tribe.  But my primary goal, my biggest concern, is the well being and success of the Talons.”  Top Shelf looked stern and determined now, with only a trace of smugness left.

“I can understand that, Top Shelf.  I’m glad I helped...  I think.  I do wish you had told me about it before...”  I trailed off with a shrug, looking pointedly at Hellen.  The young griff had buried her head in her brother’s shoulder, shaking.  Top Shelf sighed, walking to the griffs.  Briar watched him coming with a glare, which Top shelf matched.  I tensed, expecting a confrontation between them.

Top Shelf stopped, and bowed deeply to Briar and Hellen.  “I’m sorry.  You two have not been treated fairly as part of this.  Briar, you especially have done your contract proud in this.  Your handling of your conflict of interest was impressively honorable, and will be remembered.  Hellen, you’re still an interesting case.  One of your superior officers should have a training schedule for you shortly.  You aren’t in any trouble over this, we’re just going to change your path back to training.”

Hellen looked up, blinking.  Her eyes were moist, and she blotted them with a sweep of her forearm.  “T-training I can handle, Tesserarius.  Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Talon.”  Top Shelf said, clapping Hellen on the shoulder.  “Just do your best and honor your contract.”

Top Shelf let himself through the gate and headed off, as Engineer closed in on the two griffins.  I ducked around Engineer, leaning up on the gate.  “Hey, Top Shelf?”  I called.

“Yes, Wicked?”  Top Shelf said, stopping at the door and looking back.

“What about Brick?”  I asked.  The older stallion grinned down at me.

“Brick will be joined shortly by Aquilifer Root and a squad of Immunes specializing in police work.”

I couldn’t help it.  I started giggling.  Top Shelf’s grin widened, and he started laughing as well.  This was going to be great, the power games and political brahminshit of the eggheads was gonna run smack into a force of Talons that was tailor made to face them.  I wish I could be there to see it.

“Wicked.”  Top Shelf said, coming back down the stairs.  “What’s a hero?”

I stopped laughing.  Top Shelf’s expression was serious, his gaze direct and unflinching.  “I...   I don’t really know, Top Shelf.  I’m not.”  I replied.

“Are you sure about that, Wicked?  I’ve always thought a hero - no, a Hero only needed three things.”

“Strength, Courage, and Skill?”  I ventured.  Top Shelf laughed once, shaking his head.

“Only in foal’s tales, Wicked.  Here in the real world, in the Wasteland...  a Hero is someone with the endurance to withstand the challenges they’re thrown against, the admiration of the public...”  Top Shelf trailed off.  He was at the bottom of the stairs now, looming directly over me.  I wasn’t smiling anymore.

“And what else, Top Shelf? What else makes a hero?”

“Someone behind him, pulling his strings.”  Top Shelf turned and left, the heavy wooden door booming closed behind him.

I stood blinking at the door.  I wanted so badly to argue, to say that he was wrong.  But even in my head, I couldn’t.  Every step of the way I’d been lead along by the nose, serving Talon goals.  I had benefitted from working for them, sure...  Lyrical and Engineer, solid friends and allies.  I’d been able to gear up, get rations and travelling supplies...  I’d been protected and helped.

And used.  The Talons had used me as a fighter, as an excuse, as a catalyst to break-

“Kid, we should talk.”  Engineer had come up next to me unnoticed.  I turned to look at him, my face twisted in confusion.

“What, about what I’m going to do for the Talons next?”  I asked bitterly.  Engineer looked taken aback, but shook his head with a griffish smile.

“No, actually.  I wanted to show you the other side of the coin.”  Engineer said.  “The Talons use whatever they need, whoever they need - but they make good.”

I shrugged.  I was starting to get a good head of angry on.  Being useful, being -helpful- was one thing, but being used was a whole different game.  I smiled, drawing back my lips over clenched teeth.  “Sure, Engineer, lead the way.”

“Hellen, Briar...  Go find the briefing officer and find out what they’ve got for us.  I’m gonna take Wicked down to medbay, Lyrical should still be there.”

“Yessir.”  Briar replied, and nudged Hellen to her feet.  The two griffins trotted out of the council chamber, and Engineer and I followed.

The trip through Shattered Hoof complex was short, leaving the room we were in and crossing the hard ground to another building.  Our destination was a shining white building without any of the colorful designs that characterized the Hoof.  Instead, this building had a single pink butterfly painted large over its wide doors.

Inside the building, a large round desk dominated the brightly lit lobby.  Two ponies sat behind the desk, one doing paperwork, the other watching us approach.  Engineer walked up to her, taking a clipboard from the desk.

“Good morning, Nurse.  I’m here to see the slave ponies, with one guest.”  He said, scribbling on the clipboard.  She checked over what he had written, and waved down one of the hallways.

“According to Doc Stitch, one of them should be waking up soon. They’re in Recovery 3, head on down.”

Engineer padded off, and I trotted after.  He led us to an elevator and buttoned the doors open.  We rode down in silence, Engineer tossing me the occasional glance.  The doors opened with a cheery ding, and Engineer headed off.  I trailed behind, sniffing at the too-clean smell of the hospital.  We passed a pair of doors labelled ‘recovery 1’, which held a pair of beds.  The ponies in the beds wore casts and bandages, but were awake and in good spirits, if the laugh they were sharing as I passed was any indication.

The doors that I assumed led to recovery 2 were pinned open, and a griffin and pony pair were inside.  The griffin was swabbing away with a mop while the unicorn scrubbed at the walls with a rag.  The griffin waved lazily as we walked by, which Engineer returned with a nod.  Recovery 3 was closed, and Engineer laughed as he peeked into the small window set into the door.

“Go on in, Wicked.  Go in and see how the Talons take care of those who help them.”

Inside the recovery room, Blinky lay passed out on a unicorn.  They were in a bed in one corner of the room, a curtain separating them from the rest of the open area.  Lyrical, Leaf, and Sky surrounded the other bed, Leaf and Sky crying quietly in a tight embrace.  Lyrical saw me and trotted over, a broad smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks.  The peachy unicorn hugged me tightly, whispering in my ear.

“Wicked, go see the miracle.”

I went.

I patted Leaf on the shoulder as I looked at the bed.  A white sheet lay over the sizable form of Big, who was unconscious.  He lay on his side, hooves sticking out over the edge of the hospital mattress, and a pink swipe of tongue dangling out of his mouth.  He was snoring gently, and my jaw dropped as I realized what I was seeing.

His healthy, full sized tongue.

The Talons used people.   But they paid their debts in spades.

Chapter 13: The Kindest Cut

I stumbled out of the recovery room in a daze.  I didn't think what I had seen was possible.  Even with potions and magical bandages and all that, regrowing a tongue from a stub was amazing.  My father's best friend had lost his tongue before he had met us, and we had tried everything we knew to fix it.  Even Hydra, that incredibly rare and powerful chem.

Just the thought of Hydra made me shiver in fear.  I had only ever seen one use of it, when one of the warriors had lost a leg to a raider's shotgun.  The buck had screamed louder when the Hydra hit than when the leg had exploded in a spray of gore.  I leaned on the wall of the hallway shaking as the unnatural convulsions played out again in my memory.  The bone had crunched out in a shining white spur, rapidly forming a skeletal leg.  Flesh had crawled along it, blood squirting out as its flow outpaced the growing veins.

I shook my head to chase the memories away.  There was no way Hydra was the treatment being used here, there wasn't enough leftover screaming in the air.  A pony coughed to get my attention, and I looked up to see a friendly smiling earth pony stallion.  He looked over his tiny spectacles at me, and gestured at the door I had just exited.

"That a friend of yours, young buck?"  He asked.  I shrugged, taking the pony in.  A pristine white lab coat covered everything of note, leaving his blue eyes his most notable feature.  He was the only person in the hallway now, Engineer having gone missing.

"Not really, mister...?"

"I'm Stitches, the doctor responsible for that patient."

"Oh!  How did you do it?"  I asked.  This treatment could bring back Strong Back's speech - I had to know.

"Well, Hydra doesn't normally regrow things like tongues or eyelids once they've healed badly or been cauterized," The doctor began, making his way to the door of the recovery room.

"What's cauterized?"  I asked.  I thought I knew, but wanted to be sure.

"Burnt, most say," Doc Stitch replied.  I nodded.  He peered into the recovery room, his smile reappearing.  "But, I developed a procedure to force it to handle those old or ruined injuries."

"Using Hydra."  I offered.  Doc Stitch nodded, and continued.

"Hydra is an amazing drug.  It's getting harder and harder to come by, but it is the only way to reliably heal something like your friend's tongue injury."  Doc Stitch's voice was quiet, almost sad.  "None of the other methods work nearly as often."

"What's the method with H-Hydra?"  I asked.  The twitch of fear at the mention of the drug sent a prickle of embarrassment along my face.

"Well, the first thing is to anesthetize the patient completely.  Local anesthetic won't do, you have to use too much of it to stand a chance against the pain.  Once the patient is unconscious, you have to debride the ruined flesh.  It's often the toughest part of the whole procedure, really."

"Debride?"  I asked.  I was not an idiot, but talking to this guy was making me feel awfully close.

"Remove.  Specifically, remove bad or corrupt flesh."

"Ohhhhhh.  Eek," I replied.  Stitch nodded.

"Yes, really.  It's bloody and miserable, but it's got to be done.  You, or rather I, remove the dead flesh, then apply the Hydra."  My shiver caught the doctor's eye, and he turned away from the window to face me.  "I agree, young man.  It's a horrible horrible drug.  But it works."  Doc Stitch lifted a hoof and placed it gently against the window, staring inside.  "The actual application is different, also.  Instead of the normal hydraulic one-shot syringe, I have to draw the Hydra off into a much smaller needle, and apply it directly to the injured area in tiny doses."

Doc Stitch put his hoof down with a thunk.  It was half stomp, and his chest was thrown forward agressively as he turned to face me.

"The stuff still hurts.  It still burns a pony's life to repair their body.  And it's still the only way to replace what's lost, sometimes."

I plopped to my haunches, staring at the doctor.  "C-could you teach me how to do that?"

"What?"  Doc Stitch recoiled, drawing away from me.  "Teach you how to perform surgery?!"

"It's just..."  I began.  I surged back to my feet, shaking my head.  "A pony who is very important to me lost his tongue, just like that pony.  I..."

Doc Smith relaxed, leaning forward and hugging me.  I relaxed into his embrace as I started to cry.  I felt a ball of fear and need and frustration welling up in my chest, and I tried to choke it down.  I was struggling to regain my composure when the door opened, Lyrical nosing out of it with Blinky on her back.

"Wicked?"

"L-Lyrical, they fixed that...  could they fix Strongback?  Can we bring him here?"  I stepped out of Doc Stitch's hug.  "Could you go there?  What do I have to do for the Talons to make this happen?"  I pleaded.

"Wait, wait...  you have a friend at home without a tongue?"  Lyrical asked, worry clear on her face.  I nodded, completely without words.  "I need to go talk to Engineer.  Stay here."

Lyrical deposited Blinky on my back and trotted off, disappearing into the halls of the hospital.  I stood astonished, looking between the last place I'd seen her and the bemused molerat on my back.  Doc Stitch chuckled.

"I do believe that she'll figure something out, one way or another.  That was a mare on a mission," The doctor offered, turning his gaze back to the recovery room.

"I think you're right, Doc."

"Look, will you follow my instructions, exactly?"  Stitch asked abruptly.  I jerked my gaze away from Blinky to the stallion.  He had one hoof up on the door again, staring into the recovery room.  "Follow my instructions, and not do anything you aren't told to?"

"Uhm...  where?  I mean no, I won't be your sl-"

"Just in the surgery, I should have said."  Stitch interrupted me, shaking his head.  "It's probably foolish, but if you'll agree to follow my instructions, I can have you assist on the next operation."

"Oh!  Yes, yes sir I can agree to that!"  I said.  Stitch looked away from the window with a grin.

"Doctor will do, Wicked.  Let's go get another one of your friends patched up then."  Doc Stitch pushed the door open then, striding through it confidently.  His labcoat flipped back to reveal a silver needle cutie mark, a thin black thread sweeping through it.

"Mister Leaf, we're ready for you in the operating room," Stitch announced.  Leaf gulped audibly as he pulled away from Sky, his eyes wide with fear.  Stitch patted the terrified earth pony on the shoulder gently.  "It's OK, we'll knock you out.  You will feel no pain."

Leaf nodded once, and followed the doctor as he left the room.  I hastened to follow, smiling as brightly as I could at Sky, whose eyes were almost as big as Leaf's had been.  I turned through the door and hurried to catch up with Leaf and the Doc.  Doc Stitch led us through a few turns of blank corridor, the only smell cleaning fluids and the only color white.

Our path brought us to a double door labelled "OR" in big bold letters, with a symbol of a butterfly above the lettering.  Doc pushed the door open, and strode through confidently.  I followed Leaf in, and Doc ushered us into a smaller door on our left.

"Here's where you scrub up.  It will take a lot longer than you think you need, but you want to be cleaner than you have ever been.  This will help reduce the chances of infection and keep you safer."

The room was a sort of industrial bathroom, long sinks with hoof controls.  A pair of nurses stepped forward and guided us through the process.  I was a big fan of showers, but this was cleaner than I had ever been.  My face was scrubbed thoroughly, and my teeth brushed with a paste that burned like fire.  The nurse, a unicorn mare anonymous in a white labcoat and gown, scrubbed my lips as well.  My hooves received the same viciously thorough treatment.  The rest of my body got a hot water spray, followed by a wave of drying magic that pinned my ears back at its power.  As the wave passed my withers, I whipped around to look at Blinky, expecting to find him pinned to the far wall by the force of the magic.  I heaved a sigh of relief at seeing the molerat held in the magic of a third nurse, who was tickling the top of his head with a brush.

He was having fun at least.

Leaf's mouth was scrubbed even more thoroughly than mine, the nurse working on him running him through half a dozen different solutions, commanding him to rinse, then spit.  Doc Stitch was getting a similar treatment to mine, though he was actively assisting the nurse.  After my scrubbing, the nurse pulled curious booties over my hooves, front and back.  The material almost felt like paper made into cloth, thin and tough and whispery.  A mask was next, fitting closely over my face and ears, leaving my lips and mouth free to move.  It almost felt like a battle mask,  but paper instead of armor.

Stitch and Leaf both wore similar getups, the doctor comfortable and assured.  Leaf looked as lost as I felt, and we both focused on Doc Stitch.  The doctor's smile was wide, his teeth sparkling.

"Come on, you two.  Let's go fix a pony."

We followed Doc Stitch into the operating room itself, which was almost painfully brightly lit.  The smell of whatever cleaner the Talons used was heavy in the air, and every surface gleamed with cleanliness.  A bed was in the center of the room, a thin mattress draped with sheets and perched on top of a veritable forest of shining mechanical parts.  Banks and banks of humming machinery lined the walls.  I had never seen so many knobs and buttons.

Stitch helped Leaf onto the strange bed, while I stood by awkwardly.  Leaf reclined stiffly, and Stitch fretted at his position.  He adjusted both Leaf and the bed, until the pony's muzzle was presented upwards.

A masked and robed earth pony nurse stepped forward, nimbly strapping a breathing mask onto Leaf.  A tube ran from the mask back to the bank of machines.  "I'm going to count backwards from ten, I want you to count along with me.  It's OK if I can't understand you, just repeat what I say."

Leaf nodded under the mask, and the earth pony stepped aside, turning a knob with a flick of his hoof.  A faint hiss sounded, and the nurse started counting backwards from ten.  Leaf talked along in his broken voice, until six.  At six he grunted sloppily, and didn't make any noise at all at five.  The nurse flicked the knob off at four.  Doc Stitch stepped forward with a scalpel in his mouth, poking Leaf in the ear with the tip.  Leaf didn't so much as twitch, and Stitch nodded at the nurse.  She pulled Leaf's mask off and stepped away from the table immediately.

Stitch stepped back to Leaf's head, a frame of rods and screws held in his teeth.  This frame went into Leaf's mouth, and between me and the doctor we got it arranged.  The frame held Leaf's jaw wide open, leaving the stump of his tongue exposed and accessible.  Doc grunted in satisfaction, and stepped back.

"Alright, Wicked.  Pay close attention, I'm going to start removing the damaged flesh.  This is the most involved part, I'll need a new scalpel more than once."

And so he did. I watched intently as he carefully trimmed the ragged ends of Leaf's tongue, revealing healthy meat under the thick scar tissue.  It looked similar to skinning an animal, just a tiny bit more precise.  I swapped out his scalpel once, and took a moment to wipe his forehead.  I was surprised how hard the doctor was working.  It made sense when you considered how precise and controlled his movements were.

The next time he grunted for a new scalpel, I gently nudged him aside.  "I'll take over, Doctor.  Get a drink and a rest."

Stitches said "Huh" and stepped aside.  I closed in on Leaf's gaping maw, and carefully leaned in.  It was awkward, holding the scalpel and watching its point at the same time.  I managed, though.  It wasn't much like skinning an animal at all.

Tiny tiny movements, curling slivers of old scar tissue peeling away to reveal meat that was alive.  It was tough, precise work.  I found myself sweating as the scalpel dulled.  The blade was absurdly sharp at first, and then just very sharp, and then just sharp.  Sharp wasn't good enough for this precise work, and I stepped back.  I grunted, and Blinky leaned over and plucked the scalpel from my mouth, replacing it with a fresh one.  Back in I went, peeling the dead flesh away with the utmost caution.

I felt a nudge in my shoulder, and rolled the scalpel away before turning to look.  Doc Stitch stood with a smile around the scalpel held in his mouth.

"Good work, Wicked.  I'll finish up, take a break."

One of the nurses guided me back to a bench, and plucked the scalpel from my limp jaw.  I slouched gratefully, feeling a surprisingly potent wave of fatigue wash over me.  I watched wearily as Stitch finished the work inside Leaf's mouth.  Blinky plopped off of my back and became a lump on the bench, snoring quietly.  Even the molerat seemed worn out.

Eventually, Stitch stepped back and slumped onto the bench next to me, nodding gratefully at the unicorn nurse that floated his scalpel away on a flicker of magic.

"Doc…  why earth ponies?  Why not unicorns for this sort of thing?"  I asked.  Doc huffed a quiet snort of laughter.

"Most unicorns don't have the combination of precision and stamina with their magic required for the job.  Very few earth ponies do, for that matter," Stitches said.  One of the nurses chuckled, stepping next to him.

"Most people just don't have the talent of the good doctor." She said, leaning  into his side.  "He's humble, but he's amazing."

Doc Stitch chuckled, blushing around the edges of his mask.  I snickered, and we watched the nurses clean up Leaf's mouth.  Doc stretched his neck gently, breathing deeply as he rested.  The nurses finished, stepping away from Leaf.  One of the nurses returned with the gas mask, carefully monitoring Leaf as she re dosed him.  Satisfied with her work, she stepped away.  Doc rose to his hooves with a sigh, approaching the unconscious pony.  One of the nurses had left a tray on a little stand next to the table.  I couldn't see what was on it from the bench, so I levered myself up and followed.

Four thin syringes lay on the tray, full of a grey oily liquid.  Grumbling to himself, Doc Stitches picked up one of them.  Gripping it gently in his lips, he carefully inserted the syringe into Leaf's mouth, stabbing it into the raw end of the pony's tongue.  The reaction was immediate, Stitches leaping back with the syringe.  I stared in astonishment as the red meat surged forward, growing in leaps and bounds.  It was misshapen and incomplete, a raw crater of bloody flesh taking up most of the side away from the original needle mark.

I pulled out of the way as Stitches surged forward, another needle in his teeth.  He stabbed it unerringly into the center of the oozing hole.  Leaf's entire body jolted as the tongue pulsed, flesh snapping out to fill the hole.

And continuing!  A bulge became another tongue, and rapidly became a tendril, then a tentacle of flesh.  The hideous flesh whipped around as it grew out of Leaf's mouth, slapping me as I tried to get out of the way.  I snapped back without thinking, grabbing the tentacle in my jaws and pulling it taught.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Doc lunge forward, the bright gleam of a scalpel in his mouth.  Suddenly the tentacle pulled free, and I fell backwards, the grey flesh whipping me as it spasmed.

One of the nurses kicked me in the side of the head, and my mouth came open to shout in pain.  As I yelled, the tentacle was wrapped in the pink glow of her magic, and was compressed into a ball that went away.  I fought to my hooves to help, but Doc had the situation under control.  Two more smaller tendrils lay on the floor, sweeping away on a pink field of magic.  Leaf was still restrained, his jaw gaping.  Doc lifted his head, blood dripping from the scalpel and spattered on his mask.

"That was a rough one. Get me a new scalpel so I can finish trimming this."

I did.  Doc carved the growths off, restoring a normal shape and size to the tongue.  I swabbed the raw areas with healing potion, watching with awe as the skin crept together.  When I was done, Leaf's tongue was red and angry looking…  But complete.

Doc was sprawled on the bench when I finished, and staggered over to examine my work.  Clouting me on the shoulder, he staggered back to the prep area.

"Good work, kid.  The nurses can clean him up and get him back to recovery, let's wash."

It wasn't until I rinsed my mouth out that I noticed the foul taste the tentacle had left in my mouth.  Between that, the harsh cleaner they had scrubbed us with and the impact of what had just happened, I lost it.  Foul yellow bile splattered into the sink as I tossed my cookies, vomit surging from me in great surging waves.  I horked myself empty, finishing in a limp sprawl draped over the edge of the sink.  Stitches was eyeing me with concern from the next sink over, spraying his mouth with water.  I weakly followed suit, the cold, clean water an absolute wonder in my disgusting mouth.  I hosed the sink clean as part of the process, and turned the spray nozzle straight into my face.

I hosed down everything I could reach with the nozzle, spending extra time on my mouth and face.  I was stretching to get under my foreleg, Doc watching me curiously from where he was scrubbing his forehooves lazily, when a nurse walked into the room.

"Errr, Mr. Wicked, you do know we have a shower, right?"

"Oh."

The shower was paradise.  I started with a pounding hot flood, beating on my hide like wrathful hammers.  I soaped aggressively, turning myself into a foampony as I scrubbed.  The cold spray at the sink had helped, but this was a chance to completely cleanse myself and I took it gratefully.  After the soap and the hot, cold needles of water was the perfect complement.  I left the shower shortly thereafter scrubbed clean and dripping wet.  A nurse was waiting in the scrub room with a towel draped around her neck.  Without the mask, her face was cheery and open.  I smiled at her and nodded at the towel, which she floated over on her pink magic.

"Hey,"  I asked, through a mouthful of towel.  "Was that you that snatched those tentacles out of there?"

"Yes doctor, it was," She replied.  I chuckled, scruffling my mane with the soft warmth of the towel.

"I'm not a doctor, ma'am.  I just wanted to say thank you, that really helped."

"You're welcome,"  She said, turning to leave.  "Doctor."  She shot over her shoulder as she exited the room.

I couldn't help but chuckle, but it made me think.  Surgery like this was a lot of work, but it was something I might be able to do to help ponies.  Something I might be able to bring home and contribute to my community.

Doctor Wicked Cut.  I had to admit, it didn't sound bad.  The hair care thing worked nicely with it, I had to have clean and sharp tools for both…  Hmmm…

I finished drying and left the shower for the scrub room.  Doc Stitch was trying to play with Blinky, who was lazily pawing at the piece of string Stitch was dangling in front of him.  The doctor looked up as I walked in, dropping the string into a pocket of his white coat.

"Wicked, I'm starting to think this is the most useless pet ever."

"Doctor, if it weren't for things like the scalpel switch he did for me, I'd think you're right," I replied, tossing Blinky onto my back.  The molerat burbled at my clean mane, patting it before curling up on my withers.  Stitch laughed and moseyed out of the scrub room.  We passed through the OR door and headed towards recovery.  Stitch was obviously tired, his smile thin and worn.  I realized that he would have handled Big's surgery before Leaf's, both in the same day.

"How do you do it, Doc?"  I asked.  "That wasn't much work, but it wiped me out.  How do you do two like that in the same day?"

"Two or more.  Sometimes you don't get to rest.  Fortunately the Talons aren't actively in conflict right now, so it's been quiet…  Recently."  Stitch shook his head.  "This is OK.  I'll go have a beer in the cantina, then read a book.  Sleep a full eight hours tonight."  Stitch looked at me, his smile suddenly as bright as the sun.  "And tomorrow, I do the same to Sky.  Assuming everything goes well,  tomorrow afternoon will mark the first time those three have been able to talk to each other since… "

"Since that happened," I supplied.  Stitch's smile fell off his face as we paused outside of the recovery room.  Nurses were flitting about, getting Leaf situated in the middle bed.  Sky was glued to the side of Leaf's bed, just staring at his partner.  "I wonder who and why. One of my friends has a similar injury…"

"I'm grateful I don't have to worry about that part.  I just patch 'em up, kid.  The warrior types and leader types can deal with the who, and the why has never mattered at all."  With a shrug, Stitch pushed the door open and walked into the room.  His smile was back on his face, and he told Sky a very glossed over version of what had happened to Leaf.  There was no mention of tentacles or fighting, just surgery and treatment.  Interesting.

Sky was getting excited talking to the doctor, waving his hooves around and repeatedly gesturing to his mouth.  The noises he made while trying to keep quiet were one of the sadder things I've ever heard.  Doc Stitch looked confused, and I strode forward to stand next to him.  Sky looked at me and pointed at the wreckage of his tongue.

"Doc, he wants to know when his turn is," I said.  Sky relaxed with a huge sigh, nodding at the doctor.

"Oh!  Well, that's easy.  We can put you on the table tomorrow morning bright and early, my good pony.  You'll probably spend the rest of the day in recovery.  After tomorrow, though…  You should be completely better."

Sky lunged forward and hugged the doctor, tears running down his face.  I smiled, patting the pony awkwardly.  There had to be a way to get Strongback here, or to get the Talons there.  Sky calmed down and stayed with Leaf, who was profoundly unconscious.  Doc Stitch thumped me on the shoulder and took his leave.  The rumble of an unfamiliar voice came from the next bed, Lyrical's delicate tones answering.  Big was awake.  I hastened to his bed, nervous but determined.

Lyrical was talking quietly about Sunrise, making wavy motions with her forelegs.  I stepped through the curtain, and Big's eyes snapped to mine.  Lyrical kept talking for a long moment, until she felt the tension in the air.

"Big," I said.

"Wicked," He replied.

"I'm sorry."  We both said.  Our sad smiles were similar too, and I sat next to the bed.  Big held out a forehoof, and I grabbed it in both of mine.

"You first,"I offered, and Big smiled.

"For the first time in a long time."  He said.  His voice was incredibly deep, almost felt more than heard.  "I'm sorry, Wicked.  As much as it hurt me to lose Clover, I-"

"Clover?" I interrupted.  Big smiled sadly.

"My mare."  My ears pinned back, and I looked away.  "It wasn't your fault, Wicked.  I'm sure that if there had been any other way, you wouldn't have killed her.  I can't blame Leaf and Sky, either.  Those two are completely useless in a fight."

"Oh," I replied.  I didn't have the first clue what to say.  Big patted my hoof reassuringly, where he still held it in his.

"No, Wicked, the ones to truly blame are the Horn Over Hoof gang.  For Clover's death, for my tongue…  The whole shit stack is theirs."  Big squeezed my hoof reassuringly.  "I'm going to kill them all, you know," He said conversationally.

I blinked.  I tried to think of a way to respond to that, but there wasn't anything.  There was no way that a single pony, or a small group of ponies, could destroy an entire gang.  A chuckle broke the circle of my thoughts, and we all turned to see Engineer standing just inside the door, a griffish grin on his face.  "Maybe not all of them, but that's just because you won't be alone."

Big left with Engineer shortly thereafter.  The two of them were going to talk to Gawd and a small group of her officers.  The Horn Over Hoof gang posed a threat to the Talons, and just like that they were going to meet their end.  It was good Wasteland logic, I approved wholeheartedly.  I sat with Lyrical after they had left,  filling her in on the reality of the procedure Big and Leaf had undergone.  She was horrified by the tongue tentacle, but intrigued by the less harmful use of Hydra.

We spent some time catching up, and checked on Leaf and Sky.  Leaf was asleep now, which was a nice change.  He snored, Sky sprawled half on his bed and half on him.  I took a moment just to smile at them.  They really did make a cute couple.  The first bed area in the recovery room was empty now.  We were trying to decide whether to take a nap here or make our way back to the bunk room when the door opened.  Engineer backed through the door supporting an exhausted Big, who stumbled back to his bed and collapsed.

We rushed to his bed, where Engineer had his hoof in a firm grasp.  The huge stallion smiled, then lay his head down and immediately went to sleep.  Engineer gently put Big's hoof down on the bed, then ushered us out of the recovery room.  Sleeping ponies behind us, Engineer was excited.  The griffin almost bounced down the hallway.

"So,"  He said, strutting down the hallway as I shared a bemused look with Lyrical. "We and we and you and we have quite a few things going on."

"What and what and what now?"  I replied.  Lyrical giggled, and Engineer grinned at me.

"First you, Wicked.  The Big Bird has stated that she is officially interested in seconding you into the Talons."

I blinked.  "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, there's a contract."

"Of course there is."

"But," Engineer continued, "The short of it is that you agree to bring any grievance before a Talon council before attacking them, you assist Talon members as best you are able – and get paid for that assistance, mind.  Also, it means you have access to Talon medical and field support, within reason."

"That doesn't sound half bad…  What was that about pay?"  I asked.

"Any time you spend working as a Talon, you get paid.  The whole 'for-hire' thing is Gawd's problem, us rank and file types just get paid for our services to the Talons as a whole."

"Pay pay pay,"  Lyrical mused.  "Why are the Talons spending Hydra and all that medical support on no-account slaves, then?"

"Ah, but they're not just slaves, Lyrical.  They're intelligence sources.  And since they're the first folks from the Horn over Hoof gang that aren't slavers…"  Engineer trailed off and began laughing.  We stopped in the hallway, and the griffin got himself back under control.

"It's just…  All of the resources of that gang are going to the slaves, when the Talons are done with them.  If what Big told us about their holdings was accurate, they'll all be rich ponies."

"And then they have to pay for their own healing, pay for their rescue, pay pay pay."  I grumbled.  Engineer crowed laughter.

"Nope, that's after they've paid off the Talons for stepping in.  They're literally sitting on a gem mine, Wicked!"

I blinked.  That did change things, quite a bit.  Lyrical piped up.  "Wasn't Shattered Hoof a gem mine?"

"Aye, it was.  It was a lot bigger than the one the Horn gang is sitting on, too.  But it's played out.  Gem production is so slow we barely bother with it.  Their mine was just opened before the war, and it's ripe and ready.  The Talons send over a couple miners to teach the earth ponies, and presto!"

"That's…  Surprisingly good news for them," I mused.  "What would it take for someone to get their tongue repaired who wasn't one of the slaves?"

"One of your tribe members?"  Engineer said.  I nodded.  "Sign up.  You have personal reason to deal with the Horn gang and even as a second, the pay for that campaign would more than cover a significant surgery like Stitch's new Hydra technique."

"Huh."

I had to think about that.  Signing up with the Talons, even in this limited role Engineer described, would mean giving up my freedom.  I had to admit, the support structure was attractive.  I pondered on this as we walked, paying attention to Shattered Hoof as we proceeded through it.  The sun was lowering towards the horizon, painting the white and tan buildings in sunset colors.

"Engineer, where are the kids?"  Lyrical asked suddenly.  I perked up.  That thought hadn't even occurred to me.

"Most of them are at home, I'd imagine."  Engineer said mildly.  I blinked.

"Is there a park or a play area they frequent?"  Lyrical asked.  Engineer shot me an inquisitive glance, and I shrugged in response.

"Yeah, I think so…  this way."  Engineer veered off, and we took a turn off the route back to the barracks.

Engineer lead us to a part of the Hoof I hadn't seen yet.  The buildings shrunk, and grass started to surround them.  We passed several of the small blocky buildings,  all bright colors and windows.  A metal structure came into view, a sort of spiraling ramp around a post.  Stairs led to the top of it, and guard rails protected the users.  As we drew near, a filly came shrieking down the spiral, peals of laughter following her as she tumbled through the soft sand at the base.  Sprawled out on her back, legs sticking every which way, the filly laughed uproariously.  A griffin chick came sliding down after her, and the two tumbled further across the sand before running off to a set of metal bars.  Those were apparently a climbing toy, which the two swarmed up to the top of.

We sat watching them for a few minutes, until a griffin came swooping out of the sky.  Settling to a landing next to our little group, he gave Engineer a nod and spared me and Lyrical a curious glance.  I waved with a smile.

"Scratcher, Fleetfoot, time to go home!"  The griffin called.  The children came running out of the park, complaining about going home.  The griff laughed at them as he scooped them up in his arms, hugging them tight before tossing the pony onto his back.  The little grifflet padded on the ground next to him as the three walked off.

"Hmm," Lyrical hmmed.  I gave her my most quizzical look, which she met with a shrug.  "The Collegiate doesn't want me, Wicked.  I want to help you with your quest, but I'm not going to be your camp follower.  I'm going to try and sign up with the Talons."

Lyrical shook her mane and trotted off, determination on her face.  I hastened to follow, and Engineer flapped into the sky behind us.  He landed in front of Lyrical, and led us the rest of the way to the bunks we had been assigned to.

Lyrical didn't have anything to say as we got ready for bed.  I positioned Blinky on the pillow and gave Lyrical a hoof up the ladder, standing on it to look at her as she worked her way under her blankets.

"Lyrical, I'm…  I'm sorry, I didn't think you were going to be my camp follower. I—"

"That's the problem, Wicked."  Lyrical interrupted.  "You didn't think.  There was no consideration for me at all in your plans."

"No, there wasn't.  I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"I shouldn't be mad, and I'm not, not really."  Lyrical said just as quietly.  "But I've got to take care of myself,  I can't -I shouldn't- count on anyone else to do so."

"Well, I'll help you as best I can.  You're my friend, and that's more important than a camp follower," I said.  Lyrical stretched out a hoof, and I placed mine atop it gently.  "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Wicked."

My mind was a whirl of possibilities and choices as I lay down.  Was I going to try and 'second' myself to the Talons?  Was that what it would take to get Strongback fixed?

Did I want to become a doctor?

Most importantly, at least in the near term…  What now?

That could wait for tomorrow.  I put a hoof on Blinky's warm back and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 14: Merry Part...

I woke up to an empty room.  Blinky was gone, as was Lyrical.  I threw on my armor, wondering what was involved in seconding to the Talons.  Would there be a ceremony?  Would there be an initiation?  Those could be dangerous and difficult,  depending on the group.  Stickbird was leaning in a corner and I felt a tension in my heart ease as I slid the weapon into its familiar position.

I pondered on that and on Lyrical's words last night.  I felt like I had done her a wrong, but I couldn't put a hoof on what it was.  I thought I had been treating her as a person, capable of making her own decisions and setting her own path.  In a certain light that could be taken as not caring for her future, that was true.

Emotions were tough.  I grumbled as I wandered through the building, making my way towards breakfast.  I didn't think this was a 'mare thing', not really.  But it felt good to say it.

Mares were crazy.

Well, it wasn’t as good to say it when I knew it was a mask over confusion and concern.  Helped a little though, to be silly.

The cafeteria was humming with activity, ponies and griffins talking happily over their breakfast.  I didn't even draw notice as I moseyed up to the counter.  A chunk of wall greeted me.  The pony was massive, and where Brick was muscle or Root was fat, this stallion was just all large.  He was a dull red mass, with a mop of brown mane perched atop.

"Is good morning, small pony!  What are you wanting to be your breakfast?"  The wall boomed happily.  I stared in awe.

"What's good, mister…?"  I asked.

"Everything is good, little pony!  I am happy to being Blunt Force, and I have many good foods.  For pony, I have hay fries and wheat cakes, waffles and hash browns.  And have stew!"

I blinked into the blast of the huge pony's enthusiasm.  This was a lot to take in, before breakfast.  "What's in the stew?"  I managed.

"Stew is good!  Has potato, wheat, and bacons.  Bacons is good for pony, makes strong.  Like me!"  Blunt Force smacked himself in the chest with a hoof that appeared bigger than my head.  The dull thump echoed in the cafeteria.

"That sounds…  good.  Can I have a bowl, please?"  Blunt Force nodded once, then whirled to the colossal pot behind the counter.  The clatter of cookware and crockery heralded the arrival of a bowl of stew, which I took gratefully.  Blunt Force tucked a spoon into my armor, and I made my way to an unoccupied table.

The stew wasn't just good, it was wonderful.  Thin but rich, the potato base supported the bacon like a mother's embrace.  The wheat gave the whole thing strength, and a sense of lingering warmth.  All too soon, it was gone.  I was feeling much better now, wide awake and ready to face the day.  I returned the bowl and spoon, getting a wave from Blunt Force, and trotted off.  Lyrical had to be somewhere.

Wait, she would have had breakfast too, right?  Blinky would have been hungry, even if she wasn't.  I turned back to the cafeteria.  Blunt Force was behind the counter, humming happily as he chopped at something.

"Excuse me, Mister Force?"  I asked.  The pony flicked his head, tossing the knife upwards.  I watched it with wide eyes as it arced over his head, landing point first in a cutting board.

"You good pony, you had stew!  You call me Blunt, is good!"  he boomed.  I shook my head in shock.

"Uhh,  OK.  I can do that.  Blunt, did you see a mare this morning, a cream mare with a green mane?  She might have had a molerat with her."  I asked.

"Yes, is seeing young mare, she is having waffles!  Waffles is good, but you have to put the syrup on them as well as the butter."  Blunt said the last quietly, as if it was a secret.  "I saw molerat, too.  He have the hay fries, and I give him bacon!"

"Great!  Did she say where they were going after breakfast?"

"Yes, Blunt is giving mare directions to training area, is in north west corner of place.  Just inside wall!"

I thanked him and trotted off, making my way towards the northwest corner of Shattered Hoof.  The shade inside the wall was a welcome change from the bright sun, and I wove my way in and out of its coolness as I went.  The crackle of gunfire came to my ears shortly, and I homed in on it.  The sound led me to a low building, grey and squat.  Ponies and griffins were working in a courtyard before it, practicing with melee weapons of all kinds.  I paused to watch a mare in some sort of flowing strip-based armor attack a training dummy.  She hit it with a quick punch combo, then whirled.  I couldn't help but admire the swing of her armor's skirt as she planted her forehooves and blasted the dummy into splinters with a powerful buck.

"Enjoying the show, boy?"  The mare snarled.  Breathing heavily, she stomped over to me.  I plopped down onto my haunches, waving my hooves excitedly.

"Yeah, that was awesome!  That combo was just way quick, and you have a LOT of strength in that buck!  What's your armor called, the strappy flowy thing is really cool."

"What."  The mare stopped in front of me, panting.  She was a pretty tan color, with a dark red mane and tail.  I gave her my most winning smile.

"Did you see a cream mare with a green mane and a molerat come through here?"  I asked.  The mare blinked at me in confusion.

"Yeah, she went inside to talk to Bolt Action."  The mare said.  I popped back to all four hooves and nodded.

"Thanks!"  I said, then trotted off.

"Losing your touch, brightflank?"  I heard a male voice say behind me.  A meaty smack followed, and I couldn't restrain my chuckle.  Whoever that was, I hope he enjoyed getting beaten up…

The gunfire got louder when I entered the building.  A bank of lockers and a pair of bathrooms occupied the sides of the first room, and a low counter ran to a door on the far end.  A pony slouched in a chair behind it, reading a magazine.  I trotted up to him, and he pushed a pair of earblooms across the counter.

"Name?"  He said, not looking up from his magazine.  Guns and Ammo Quarterly, it looked like.

"Wicked Cut."  I replied.  The thunder of gunfire was sporadic, but unceasing.  I felt my ears pin to the back of my head in frustration.  I shuffled uneasily.  The sloucher flipped a page in his magazine.

"Rank?"

"No, I showered yesterday."  I snapped.  That got the desk pony's attention, and he put his magazine down and sat up straight.  Looking me over curiously, he reached slowly under the desk with one hoof.

"Hey Bolt, could you come in here?"   The desk pony said loudly.  I grinned, showing more teeth than was precisely necessary.

"That sounds like a good idea.  Maybe he isn't as bad a slackass as you."  I said.  Desk Pony flinched.  The door swung open, and a dark blue unicorn came out, pausing to pull a pair of earblooms out in a glow of magic..

"Who's a slackass?  And who are you?"  he asked.  I nodded to him, keeping an eye on Desk Pony.

"My name's Wicked Cut, I'm a tribal that just got here with Engineer and Hellen.  This guy didn't even think a strange pony walking in was worth putting his magazine down."

"Huh.  Colt, what do you have to say to that?"  The blue unicorn asked.  Desk Pony cringed in his seat.

"It's a fair enough statement, sir.  I screwed up."  He replied immediately.  The blue pony shook his head with a sigh.

"Colt, you're back on kitchen patrol as of this evening.  Try not to mess up the rest of my day, if you could be so kind."

Desk Pony twitched, drooping.  "Yessir."  He muttered.  The blue pony nodded once, then turned to me.

"Wicked, right?"

"Yep."  I replied.  The blue pony replaced his ear plugs and floated a set from behind the counter to me.

"I'm Bolt Action.  Throw a couple of these in and come on back."

I took the earblooms and shrugged at Desk Pony.  Screwing them into my head I followed Bolt through the door.  With a pair of the squishy plugs in, the gunfire was a lot quieter.  The next room was interesting.  A long counter divided the room, with partitions futher dividing it.  Targets hung in the open space past the counter, and ponies stood behind it, shooting all sorts of guns.  Lyrical was there, ripping off short spurts of gunfire from a stubby little weapon.  Her gun made a final clack sound, and she pointed it at the floor before turning.

"Hi, Wicked!"  She almost yelled.  Her eyes were bright and her hair mussed, the very picture of excitement.

"Hey, Lyrical.  You having fun?"  I asked.  She passed the gun off to Bolt, who had a wide grin on his face.

"You bet!  I'm learning a lot, too.  The Collegiate doesn't know anything about guns compared to the Talons."  Lyrical said.  She was smiling brightly and glowing with her morning's work.  She leaned forward and nuzzled me, which I returned with my own smile.

"Stands to reason, I would think.  Where's Blinky?"  I asked.  Lyrical nodded to another corner, this one on the back wall of the gun range.  Blinky slumbered on a duffel bag, a set of earblooms sticking out of his head comically.

We spent the rest of the morning training and learning about guns.  Lyrical fell in love with the weapon she was using when I walked in, which turned out to be a submachine gun.  I actually learned enough about guns to load one, put some holes in a paper target, and even clear a jam!

We left the gun range about noon, Colt Steel taking our earblooms and signing us out.  The poor desk pony looked miserable, and I made sure to give him my best grin.  I tried to be a nice and good pony, but some folk just deserved to get messed with.

We were headed back to the bunk room, still excited from the gun range, when Engineer flopped out of the sky.  The old griff groaned as he stretched, and we greeted him happily.

"Eeeehhh, I'm getting too old for all this here and there."  Engineer grumped.  "Wicked, I've got a recruiter waiting to talk to you."

"About seconding?"

"Yup.  He has the contract and everything.   What about you, Lyrical?  Do you have any plans?"  Engineer asked.  She shrugged, as we walked along.

"I'm thinking of signing up."  She admitted.

"What, as a second?"  Engineer asked.  I smiled, nudging her.  She flicked me with her tail before replying.

"Nope, as a full Talon.  The Collegiate sees me as disposable.  Worse, they lied about it.  The Talons are honest."

Engineer fell silent for a few moments, chewing on that.  I couldn't help but smile.  Lyrical didn't have the anger or hurt in her voice that she'd had last night.   I wasn't sure where this path would take her, but she was confident and certain that it was something she wanted to do.  That was good enough for me.

Lyrical peeled off to go to the medical area and visit the slaves, leaving me and Engineer to make our way to the recruiter.  That turned out to be a dusty blue unicorn,  frazzled and work weary in a tiny office.  He was busily packing a saddlebag when we entered.

"Hey Dotted Line, I brought Wicked Cut here."  Engineer introduced me, before plopping into one of the two chairs on our side of Dotted Line's desk.

"Ahhh, the tribal who's caused such a commotion."  The unicorn said, dropping into his own chair.   He pulled out a clipboard with a stack of pages on it, and dropped it on the desk.  "This is the normal seconding contract.  The way this works normally, I have some preliminary questions, which I use to fill in the sections on your compensation rates and duty classification.  You get to read the contract then, and if you agree to it, you sign.”  Dotted Line said.  He was obviously saying well practiced lines, but he still kept looking to me to make sure I understood.

Dotted Line paused, glancing at Engineer before addressing me again.  “You can read, yes?”

I grinned in reply, answering in the affirmative.

“Good to hear, you’d be surprised how many folks can’t.  I’ll move right into the ‘few preliminary questions’, then?"  He asked.  I shrugged, pulling out the other chair and easing myself into it.

"OK, go ahead."

"Why do you want to associate yourself with the Talons?"  He asked immediately.

"Medical support.  One of my tribe members lost his tongue, and Doc Stitch has a procedure that should replace it.  Or at least stands a good chance to do so."  I offered.

"And you expect the Talons to do that for you?"  Line responded.

"I expect to make enough on the upcoming Horn over Hoof gang mission to pay for it."

"Campaign, actually.  It's going to be several missions, almost guaranteed."  Engineer put in.

"Fair enough."  I said.  Dotted Line made some notes on another clipboard, and looked back at me.  He gave my equipment a quick once-over, peering at Stickbird curiously.

"Interesting.  That's a spear of some sort, I take it?"

"Yessir."

"So you're a melee fighter.  Look like a lightweight, a skirmisher instead of a bruiser…  hmm hmm hmmmm.  How long can you run?"

"A couple days.  Depends on how much I'm carrying."

"ahhh…   good, good."  Dotted Line's pen flew over the paper in his magic, scratching notes and numbers onto the page.  The unicorn ignored me for a few minutes, writing away on his pad.

I shot a questioning look at Engineer, who shrugged in return.  We waited patiently while Dotted Line changed pages, and filled out some sort of form.  He whipped the form off his clipboard, tossed it into the other clipboard, and shoved that one across the desk to me.

"Read this."

I did.  There wasn't anything scary in the contract, except for some of the provisions of the criminal justice system.  I was already somewhat familiar with that process, but it was a little intimidating to put myself under its authority.

The pay scale was interesting.  I would be paid a wage for any time I spent actively working with the Talons, and I could claim wages for time spent ‘Acting specifically and clearly in the Talon’s interests’.  Interesting turn of phrase, that was.  While I could draw equipment from Talon armories ‘within reason’, I would have to maintain it and pay for it myself, either out of my wages or my personal finances.

On the contract went, covering three main sections.  What I owed the Talons, which was service in the military sense of the term.  Dotted Line had stapled in a subsection indicating I was a ‘skirmisher/scout’, and detailing what I would not be expected to do.  I was glad to see that section!  The Talons used the line of battle on occasion, and that was not a thing I was comfortable considering.  The second main section was all about what the Talons owed me.  It was smaller than the first section, but...  denser, if that made any sense.  The command and control support was actually really important, from a combat perspective.  There was nothing more useless than a mess of warriors in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The section concerning what the Talons owed me was interesting.  I was fairly familiar with the medical support structure already, but I still felt a thrill as I considered bringing Strongback in to be healed.  The pay subsection was interesting in that it kept repeating ‘when contact with the paymaster can be assured’.  I paged back and forth through that part to confirm what I thought I was reading.

“Dotted Line, this seems a little weird.  The Talons aren’t obligated to pay me unless I’m in contact with the paymaster?”  I asked.  Dotted Line looked up from a stack of papers he was reading through and nodded.

“That’s to allow for people who are completely out of contact for long periods, who live weeks or months of travel away from any sort of Talon presence.”  Dotted Line said, poking at relevant sections.  “Where do you live, anyway?”

“About five days run away, more or less.”  I replied.  Dotted Line nodded.

“That’s relatively close, all things considered.  And that puts you two or three days away from the Alkali Lake facility.  I suspect that’s going to be a fairly significant Talon outpost, once everything shakes out.”

I pondered that. The desalinization plant wasn’t that far away from Our Tacksworn.  The only reason we hadn’t at least investigated that place before was the desert.  That wouldn’t be a barrier if we knew there was something for us on the other side.  Commerce...  not my thing, but this looked like a prime opportunity for somepony.

I spent a lot of time thinking lately.  The last section of the contract went into detail about the Talons military justice system.  The penalties were mostly administrative, decreases in rank or punishment details.  Unless you hurt someone, then things got painful for you.  Murder of a noncombatant was punishable by death.  Flat out in black and white.

I was actually happy to see that.  Discipline meant a lot of things, almost all of them good.  Both for the common fighting pony and the people they had to work with.  Discipline was the difference between a ravening horde of raiders and a good bunch of ponies.

The contract was excellent.  There was a clear enough statement of required duties that I didn’t feel like I was stepping into the unknown.  There was a clear enough statement of the Talons’ obligations that I didn’t feel like I was being sold.  And the support structure...  the medical.

I signed the contract with a confident stroke, and tossed the clipboard to Dotted Line.

“OK, Dotted Line.  What next?”

“That’s it.  You’re seconded to the Talons, now.”   Dotted Line said with a smile.  He set his clipboard down and opened a drawer on his desk, pulling a token out with his magic.  The token was slightly smaller than a hoof, brass with a lanyard to wear it around the neck.  A stylized griffin graced one side, her talons clutching a gun and a sword.  The other bore lettering, clean stamped lines that read “The holder of this token is seconded to the Talons” followed by a number.

Clean, simple, and straightforward.  I liked the Talons a lot, and joining them was going to be a grand thing.  I tossed the lanyard over my head and let the token thump against my chest.

“Sounds good to me, Dotted Line.  What now?”

“Now you get out of my office, and I finish packing.  I’ve got to get to Alkali Lake and crush the Collegiate…   With paperwork!”  The unicorn grinned fiercely, and I returned his smile.  Engineer left the office, muttering about paper warriors, and I followed him into an uncertain future.

A future which involved yelling at a wrinkled old pony, trying to make myself heard over the screeching howl of strange tools doing loud things to pieces of metal.  Engineer had guided me to a building near the gun range, the armory.  The noise had started as soon as we went inside.  Engineer, wincing in the barrage of sound, had taken off.  I followed his instructions and went through a lobby into a back room.  The layout was almost identical to the gun range, but the lobby was empty.  The noise was considerable even in here and nearly deafening when I opened the door into the back room.

Arcane machines loomed in the dank space, whirring and grinding away at bizarre tasks.  One of them was the source of an almost incredibly loud screeching.  I felt my ears snap back, which helped a little.  Approaching the noisy machine I could see a cylinder of metal being spun against an unmoving blade.  There was an oil bottle sitting next to it, and a few squirts cut the screeching to a bearable level.

“Thanks boy, that old cutter needs more oiling than it ought.”  A voice said.  I turned to see a grizzled old earth pony.  I had no clue what colors he was originally, grey under grey was all he had left under the oily stains splotching his hide.  “Let’s go up front and talk, youngster.”

The old pony dropped himself into a battered old chair with a sigh, kicking back and putting his hooves up on an equally tired desk. “Now, how can an old pony help you.?”

“I’m not sure, actually, mister…?”  I asked.

“Daisy Cutter at your service, youngster.  What do you mean you’re not actually sure?”  The stallion asked, a scowl on his face.  In the background, the scraping sound kicked up a notch.

“I…   uhhh…  “  I trailed off, scratching my head.  “I just signed a seconding contract, and my friend Engineer brought me here.  He never told me what I was supposed to actually do here.”

“Ahhh, a fresh second,”  Daisy said.  The scraping got louder again, and the old pony’s scowl deepened.  He leaned forward, beginning to push himself to his hooves.  I turned and made for the door, calling over my shoulder.

“I’ve got it!”

A few squirts of oil later the turny thing was back to its normal noise, and I returned to the front.  Daisy was watching the door, stroking his wispy beard.  He nodded as I came through the door, hooves comfortably up on his desk.

“Thank you, lad.”  Daisy Cutter said.  “I don’t suppose you’ve worked with a lathe before?”

“Errr..   what’s a lathe, sir?”  I asked.  The old pony chuckled quietly.

“Well, I suppose I couldn’t be that lucky.  You interested in learning the fine art of machining, lad?”

“Sorry, sir, I… “  I shrugged nervously.  The whole whirling metal thing seemed dangerous and uninviting to me.  “I’m really attached to this campaign, actually.  I need the money to get my friend healed.”

“Well, that’s a good enough reason, I suppose.  Machinists assistant doesn’t pay that much, anyway.”  The old pony sighed, and clambered out of his chair.  Making his labored way over to a rack of lockers, he popped one open with a practiced kick.  “Your friend brought you here for a basic kit.”  He grumbled, peering at my armor and weapons.  “Most of which you don’t need.”

Ah.  It made a lot more sense now.  I nosed through the locker.  There was a set of Talon barding, flat black and menacing.  I considered it for a long moment, then moved on.  There was a nifty matching helmet that I set on the floor.  A set of saddlebags held some healing potions and field supplies, those went on my back behind mine.  A rack on the back wall of the locker held several small guns.  I recognized some of them, vaguely.  Nothing seemed preferable to my good Stickbird.

There were a few more weapons laid out on the bottom of the locker, a set of brass hoofshoes and some intriguingly spiky bits.  I flicked one up and bit down on it.  Interesting.  I tucked it away in my saddlebags.

“I think that’s it, Mister Daisy.  I’d rather keep my own armor and weapon.”  I told the old stallion.

“That’s alright, kid.  I’m-”

Daisy was interrupted by the door swinging open, Engineer pacing in, followed by a subdued Lyrical.

“Ah, how’s my favorite flower?”  Engineer said.  I jumped as Daisy kicked the locker closed.

“Less good than before you came in, you cranky old feather duster.”  Daisy growled, approaching Engineer.  The griffin posed, clasping one paw to his chest.

“Oh, oh, take thy withered beak from my heart, oh devil!”  He squawked dramatically, before embracing Daisy.  “How’s the kid?”

“He’s good, got a real good attitude on him.  Shame he doesn’t have interest in metalworking, I could use a sprightly lad like him.”  Daisy replied, breaking their hug and heading back to his desk.  Engineer followed, and Lyrical trailed behind him, staring sullenly at the floor.

“Hey, Lyrical, what’s wrong?” I asked, taking a moment to tie the Talon helmet onto my barding.  Blinky kicked the helmet as I worked with it, rolling off my back to waddle over to Lyrical and pat her nose.

“I can’t sign up.”  She said.

“What?  Why?!”  I asked.  While Lyrical wasn’t the best fighter I’d ever met, she was smart and driven.  The Talons would have done good to snap her up.

“She’s got to wait until the recruiter gets back, he’s off on a mission.”  Engineer put in.  The screeching sound picked up again, followed by a massive shriek of metal on metal.

“Oh horseapples!”  Daisy swore, galloping through the door to the back area.  Swearing came through the door, muted as it swung back closed.   Engineer chuckled, taking the old stallion’s chair.

“It’s not that bad, really.  Lyrical’s brilliant, and if she isn’t the best fighter now, we can fix that.  The Talons will snap her up as soon as they can.”

“So, Talon recruiting’s just one guy?”  I asked, bewildered.  I didn’t see how an organization as large as the Talons could have completely shut down its recruiting efforts.

“About seven or eight ponies and two griffs, actually.”  Lyrical said.  She was starting to look scowly, but at least she was paying attention to Blinky, rubbing his pink head.  The molerat’s whiskers twitched happily, his eyes closed.

“All of which are going to be a big part of the campaign against the Horn over Hoof gang.”  Engineer said.  I blinked at him, completely confused.  The door opened, and Daisy backed through.  The old pony angled his way through the door, turning to reveal a twisted chunk of metal.  He dropped the wreckage on his desk, glaring at Engineer.

“Ye get your daft feathery self out of my chair, now.”  He growled.  Engineer came out of the chair laughing.  Daisy resettled himself, but eyed Lyrical instead of putting his feet up.  “You, young miss.”

“Yes sir?” Lyrical asked, looking up from Blinky.

“I heard you were planning on enlisting with my Talons, ‘s that right?”  Daisy asked.

“Yes…   but I can’t, until the recruiters are back.”  Lyrical said.  Her voice was still subdued, but even and firm.

“Ahhh, they’re sending the ponecatchers in…  Are these slavers, then?”  Daisy asked.  Lyrical nodded.

“The Horn over Hoof gang.  Unicorn supremacists, slavers.  Do nasty things to their slaves, take their tongues out.”  Engineer put in, idly toying with the twisted metal on Daisy’s desk.

Daisy laughed, a short bark of sound. “The recruiters will clean up, there.  ‘ol Doc Stitch got that Hydra thing working?”

“Yeah, he did.  It’s not perfect, but it works.  I need that for one of my friends at home.”

“Well that all makes sense, then.  The recruiters are gonna be busy as lambs at shearing time, helping all those former slaves.  You’ll get your turn, lass.”  Daisy said.

“What do you mean, busy as lambs? You’ve never seen a sheep, you goat!”  Engineer crowed.  The two older ponies cracked up laughing, and I looked at Lyrical.  She was staring intently at Blinky, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head.

“Anyway, anyway…  What’s the plan for her while the recruiters are off?”  Daisy asked.  Engineer shrugged griffishly.

“I’m not sure.  I’m supposed to go north with Wicked, I’d like her to come with.”   Engineer replied.  Daisy clutched his chest, slumping in his chair and flailing his free foreleg.

“Yer killin’ me, Engineer Grimfeathers!  Killin’ me, I says!  Takin’ all the best and the brightest, leaving me here to slave my hooves away, ‘tis a travesty!”  Engineer laughed, long and loud.  I chuckled myself, and even Lyrical was hiding a smile.  Daisy stopped flailing and almost bounced out of his chair, trotting over to kick another locker open.  “Here you go, lass.  Kit yourself out and be safe on that trip.”

The locker he’d opened for Lyrical had much the same assortment of items as mine, and Lyrical set Blinky on my back to browse through them.  She came up with a helmet and a submachine gun, a squatty black shape similar to the one she had worked with earlier at the gun range.  She clipped the holster onto the Talon barding she already wore and dropped the gun in on a push of magic.

I paid close attention as Lyrical kitted herself out.  Her expression flickered between angry and sad and other things I couldn’t read.  After settling a few things into her saddlebags, she considered the Talon helmet.  I stared at her as she stared at it, her face still.  The helmet bobbed gently in her magic, offering nothing.

“Lass, it’s not a rejection.  The Talons are always interested in recruiting folks sharp and true, and if they’ve got their eyes on all those ponies enslaved, well..  They’ll be home soon enough.  And you’ll be even more ready to join then, having gone on a normal mission with us.”

Lyrical rose fully to her hooves and clipped the helmet to her barding.  She turned to Daisy and nodded firmly.  “You’re absolutely right, sir.  This isn’t a failure, just a delay.”  She bumped hooves with the old pony, who shut the locker and trotted back to his desk.  Engineer looked on with a smug griffish grin on his face.

We signed out for our equipment, Engineer scribbling his mark for Lyrical’s draw, and said our goodbyes.  Engineer led us out of Daisy’s machine shop and into the lowering afternoon sun.  I was just opening my mouth to ask where we were going when my stomach growling interrupted me.  Lyrical giggled and Engineer chuckled.  I scowled at them, before breaking into a grin.

“Well, I was going to suggest meeting the caravan master and going over your mission, but I take it dinner would be in order first?”  Engineer laughed.  I couldn’t help but agree.

We made our way back to the cafeteria I had enjoyed breakfast in earlier that day.  The colossal form of Blunt Force loomed behind the counter, making a racket with pots and pans.  I deposited Blinky on a table, where he sprawled out asleep.  Engineer was already returning from the counter, Lyrical carrying a bunch of plates in her magic.  I returned to the table, and Lyrical slid a plate loaded with greens in front of me.

“Thanks!”  I said, and smiled at her and Engineer as they took their seats.

“Blunt said they’re between lunch and dinner, but he had some plates set up for latecomers.”  Lyrical said.  Engineer nodded as a plate floated around Blinky to him.

“These are one of his specialties.  Ponies and griffons can both eat them, and from what I’ve heard, they’re pretty tasty for all of us.”  Engineer proceeded to dig in, and I followed suit.  Greens and grains in good proportion made an excellent light meal, and the rumbling in my belly was soon quieted.

I gathered the empty plates and brought them back to the counter.  Blunt Force swung over and snatched them out of my hooves, whirling into the depths of the kitchen with a shouted “Thank You!” over his shoulder.  I left laughing, following Engineer and Lyrical out of the cafeteria.  Blinky was on Lyrical’s back now, and gave me a curious look before settling into another nap.

Engineer led us back through the Talon’s compound towards the gate.  Just shy of the gate, he turned sharply and led us to one of the oddly shaped buildings there.  I noticed that they both had large doors, similar to the big gate.  The smaller door let us into a large open room, redolent with the warm scent of hay and brahmin.  Several of them were hanging out in the stalls lining the room, including a group of them playing cards off in one corner.

An earth pony looked up as we came in, and tossed his cards facedown before rising from his seat at the card table.  “Hey Maple, I’m out.  Got business, your deal.”  One of the brahmin lowed affirmatively.  The pony was dark blue with a tan mane, limping on one foreleg.  He smiled broadly as he neared, eyeing me and Lyrical.  “Howdy there, Engineer.  Heard you’ve got me a fresh second to test drive on this haul.”

“Yes I do indeed.  Two, in fact. Wicked Cut here just seconded to the Talons.”  Engineer indicated me with a gesture, and I waved my Talon token, hung on my neck.  “And Lyrical Thesis is going to be a recruit.”

“Going to be?”  The pony asked, a sour look on his face.

“Yes, going to be.  All the recruiters are mustering out to clean up after the Horn over Hoof gang, and she’s on hold until they get back.”  Engineer shot back.  “Come on Long Haul, you know I don’t break procedures around here.”

“No, but you’ll bend them until they creak.  The First Run is meant to test new Seconds in an all-Talon environment.  Not to babysit likely ponies until Recruiting can get around to inducting them.”  Long Haul snapped.  I glanced at Engineer, whose ears were pinned back.  Lyrical astounded me by laughing gleefully.  Long Haul looked completely shocked, and I felt right there with him.

“Oh this is great, I like this guy.  Engineer, he’s right, we should just relax here until the recruiters are back.”  Lyrical said.  Engineer stared at her, and she indicated me and Long Haul with a wave of a hoof.  “He’s absolutely right, and he knows what he’s doing.  I’ll spend a few days on the gun range, talk to some of the other trainers here.  It’ll be fine.”

I approached Lyrical, gazing into her face.  She was smiling bravely, but I could tell there was more than a touch of melancholy behind her eyes.  “Are you sure you’re gonna be OK here?” I asked.

“Yeah.  I think it’ll be good, get some practice and training in, and some time to think.”  She replied.  I smiled, and turned to present Blinky, idly chewing on one of the buckles of my armor.

“You should keep Blinky with you, give you someone familiar to talk to.”  I offered.  Lyrical giggled as she took hold of the molerat in her magic.

“It will be nice to have someone that doesn’t talk back.”  She said with a wicked grin.  I smiled sheepishly in return.  “Come on, Engineer, let’s leave Wicked to his test run.”

Engineer and Lyrical made their way out of the building, and I turned back to Long Haul.  I took a deep breath and smiled at his sour expression.  “OK, sir, what do I need to do first?”

Table of Contents

Chapter -1: Disclaimer

Chapter Zero: Prelude (Leaving Town)

Chapter One: Field of Brown, Skies of Grey

Chapter Two: Cactus Flowers and Judgement Calls

Chapter Three: The Rain is a Pain, it falls Mainly on my Mane

Chapter Four: Claw's Well That Ends Well

Chapter Five: Early To Rise

Chapter Six: Refuse/Resist

Chapter Seven: The Thing That Should Not Be

Chapter Eight: On the Turning Away

Chapter 9: On The Run

Chapter 10: This Ain't The Summer of Love

Chapter 11: Running up That Hill (A Deal With Gawd)

Chapter 12: In Spite of All The Danger

Chapter 13: The Kindest Cut

Chapter 14: Merry Part...