How do you know whether what you’re doing is right or wrong?

At first, it seemed simple. Lethal beasts eat ponies. Bad. Raiders murder, rape and maim, in whichever order they please. Bad. Feral ghouls attack on sight. Bad. Slavers capture others and make them serve, not leaving them any chance to say “no”. Bad.

But... what about other ponies? Other people? Those other Wastelanders that are just trying to live through day?

Again, it seems simple, right? Doctor heals you. Good. A mercenary you hired to protect you does so. Good. A diner’s owner makes you something to eat. Good.

Unfortunately, black and white aren’t the only colors in the world. If they were, we all could have avoided a lot of moral headaches.

“So, a water talisman, huh?” Scrap Tech huffed, as he hoof-powered the trolley along with Midnight. I had just finished telling him (in the breaks between coughing attacks, often with blood spattered across my hoof) why I had left the safe and cozy stable to roam the Wastelands. “Sure, unless there has been a some sort of contamination within this stable, there should still be a functional one inside… provided we get there soon. If the Brotherhood of Steel finds out about this stable…”

A snarl escaped from the other end of the lever. “You say it as if they hold monopoly on the old technology.”

“Well, they have the guns to support this stupid belief of theirs, don’t they?”

“Anyway, let’s not forget that there are plenty of other scavengers out there that would love the chance to get their hooves on the stable’s tech. Which means,” Midnight added, glancing at me. “that if you really want to go there, you will keep your trap shut in the Capital Station, got it? We don’t need to stand in line to this crack you two saw.”

The roll of my eyes had probably betrayed my thoughts on that matter, judging by the deepened frown, so I quickly pretended to be in a coughing fit. I already felt bad about a mare working while I was lying on the side of my back (left one, where the good wing was), I didn’t want to worry about what Midnight could do to me if I got on her nerves.

The funny thing about that thought was that I actually felt bad, physically. Apparently, I took too many Med-X in too short time to risk taking another one. Midnight yanked the one I was about to jam into my flank from my mouth, telling me to buck up and ignore the pain. I would have made a mental note to do the same for her if she had her legs crippled in the future, but, let’s be honest, a) that wouldn’t happen, b) I had a crush on her c) she could kill me.

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t tell a soul, got it,” I told her to calm her down. I decided to change the subject. “So, you two know each other?”

“Most good mercs outside of 303 do.”

“‘Civilian contractors’,” Scrap corrected her.

“Only you call yourself that,” Midnight replied before turning back to me. “DJ Pon3 plays ‘public service announcements’ on her broadcast from time to time, and among some other things she gives a list of known mercenaries that won’t betray their client. Both of us are there. But I assume you were curious how we met?” I nodded. “We and few others were hired a while back by this old buck called Allstar from Manehatten. He sent us to an old military research facility...”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Scrap interrupted her. “Place was a nightmare; full of zombies and security robots-”

“Which you were supposed to turn off.”

“I did! I have no idea how they turned back on!”

“If you weren’t rutting with Stray instead of doing your job-”

Suddenly, I got the feeling that this fight was in a long time coming. Or maybe was being replayed. Either was, as they began arguing, I tuned them out. I was curious about my companions’ past, but I was in too much pain to catch anything through Midnight accusations and Scrap defending himself. At least the trolley didn’t seem to slow down; I was happy with that.

Sighing, I started playing with my PipBuck, needing something to occupy my mind. I wasn’t certain if I could catch DJ Pon3 here, but I was pleasantly surprised when I heard the mare’s voice. Guess we were close to the end of the tunnel.

… And with that shaking piece of news, well, we end the news. Tune in later for an update; maybe somebody will finally get a seismometer by those mountains?

The remark caused both Midnight and Scrap to case their argument and look at my PipBuck with irritation, then at me. I raised an eyebrow; I suspected that like me they’ve figured that the DJ was talking about the latest earthquake, but why were there staring at me like that?

“And to think that you destroyed that entire facility…” Midnight muttered.

“I didn’t!” I quickly snapped; I was getting tired of being accused of this. “I told you, something had connected with that place using an old military code or something, and when I attempted to communicate, it caused the selfdestruct sequence!”

“Mhm. Then how come Scrap Tech here says he didn’t notice anything?”

Okay, there should be a limit as to how wide one can open his eyes, right? Because I’m pretty sure at that moment my were going to pop out.

“You… you were just accusing him of being bad in this!” I pointed at her with my last good leg, barely hearing what the DJ was saying:

Now, here’s Sweetie Belle, remind us that, despite everything, you can always begin again:

Begin again in the night

Let's sway again tonight…

“No, I accused him of bucking on the job,” Midnight snorted. “And seeing how you keep glancing at me and that you winced when I mentioned that he’s gay, I doubt that has happened back there.”

Her remark made me flushed, embarrassed for her suggestion as well as for mentioning my reaction. I glanced at Scrap awkwardly, muttering:

“I didn’t… wince…”

But he just chuckled.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Most straight guys who I hugged react that way when they realized a coltcuddler, well, cuddled them. Although, I admit I’m a bit disappointed, you’ve got a nice rump there.”

Hoping he wouldn’t take my now-even-worse blush as a sign of interest, I contemplated the unfairness of fate, that the one who told me a compliment like that was him and not Midnight. At the same time, however, I began to better understand why I annoyed her so much.

“Err, thank you,” I replied, causing the buck to grin and Midnight to mutter something so quietly that even I couldn’t catch it. I coughed. “So, when do you think we’ll get to the Capital Station? And when we can go to this stable?”

Midnight glanced at her PipBuck. “About ten minutes and…” she paused as both of us heard Scrap grunt angrily. I looked in confusion as the unicorn smirked. “Oh, are you still sore about losing it in a poker game?”

“You lost a PipBuck in a poker game?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah… which is why I no longer play with her,” the buck mumbled sullenly. “And since after I lost it I got really drunk, I’m no longer allowed in Applewood,” Seeing my surprised gaze, he added: “Hey, I went through a lot to get it. It’s a Delta model PipBuck, they’ve barely gotten into production before the bombs fell. It’s the newest model, that is second newest after an Epsilon, but they made only like five of those.”

Midnight and I exchanged a glance with each other. For the first time ever, both of us grinned.

“You mean like this one?” I lifted my good leg to wave the PipBuck in front of him.

Oh dear Goddesses, I just gave a gay buck an orgasm.

“Scrap, I know you this must have upped Nightkin to a ten for you, but can you stop humping his leg and help me?” Midnight commented.

“Yeah yeah…” the buck finally returned to hoof-powering the trolley.

Oh wait; I just realized how that sounded. Heh… No, Scrap Tech didn’t actually hump my leg. But he did grab it and bent in an odd angle to get a better view of the PipBuck. He was in such daze that he somehow didn’t hear my: “Get the fuck off! Get the fuck off!” while he nearly broke one of my last two good limbs. The fact that Midnight didn’t seem concerned irritated me even more.

“And you turn that off, this piece is just depressing,” she told me as I massaged my leg.

Glaring at her - I kinda liked it! - I did as she asked and changed the station. The song was over anyway…

… somepony, please, anypony, help us… P-please… if anypony can hear this…

My ears perked up at the sound of the tearful pleading coming from my PipBuck.

… the Crystal Empire needs help… I… I don’t… the Crystal Heart’s power protected us from the megaspells, but something… something went wrong. Everywhere on the streets there’s this blue haze… it’s k-killing everypony! The Princess… oh Goddesses...somepony, please, anypony, help us… P-please… if anypony can this… the Crystal Empire needs-

As the message repeated itself, I turned off the radio and glanced at my companions, who were, to my shock, completely unfazed by it.

“W-what…?”

“It’s Crystal Empire’s emergency broadcast,” Midnight replied me, shrugging. “It has been going on since the Last Day.”

“Why? What happened there?”

“Well,” Scrap Tech said, “nopony knows, exactly. By the last few years before the Last Day, the Crystal Empire had gradually pulled off from the war effort. Princess Cadance had said that this wasn’t what her aunts would want, so her support for Equestria faltered. Instead, it began to serve as a refuge for everybody that had enough of the fighting, as everybody believed that the Crystal Heart, the artifact that protected the Empire, would be enough to shield them from the war.”

I nodded. I remembered as much from my classes in the stable.

“But when the megaspells hit... the shield around the city held, but it was soon filled from the inside by this Blue Haze that the broadcast mentions. It killed everything inside.”

“Miss Common told me once that she believes the balefire radiation from the megaspells affected the Crystal Heart and made it create the Blue Haze,” Midnight interjected.

“Yes, that is one of the most popular theories,” Scrap said, shrugging. “Makes sense, too, seeing how the megaspells were based on how the Crystal Heart works. The other theory is that the zebras had planted a bomb filled with a necromantic gas inside the Empire, similar to what they did in Splendid Valley a few years earlier. Either way, now the Crystal Empire is the single most dangerous place in the entire Wasteland. Over the last two centuries, many scavengers tried to take the riches of the Empire for themselves, but none had returned.”

“Why is it so dangerous?” I asked them.

A glimmer from far away caught my attention for a moment. We were finally near the exit! Oh, if a few hours ago I knew I would be so happy to see the daylight...

“The Blue Haze is still almost everywhere within the city,” Scrap said, a shadow crossing his face, while the speck of light grew bigger steadily. “Nopony knows why, by there’s still barrier around the Empire, holding this radiated mist inside.”

“Now, hang on a second,” I interrupted him. “If there’s still barrier around the Empire, how could anypony go there? You said that there were many scavengers that tried to get into it.”

“There are ways to pass through such barriers,” Midnight, the residential unicorn, explained. “All you need is magic nullifier, or properly adjusted mana gem, and you can either create a small crack within the shield in case of the former or pass through it in case of the later.”

“Yeah, getting through the shield is easy compared to everything else,” Scrap continued. “The Blue Haze killing everything aside, there are also the crystal ghouls.”

“‘Crystal ghouls’?” I repeated, and then snapped as realization came upon me. “You mean…?”

“Yep,” Scrap confirmed my guess. “Imagine a ghoul like the ones in the tunnels, but with almost indestructible bodies.”

That… wasn’t a pleasant thought. As I gazed into the still-far-away exit from the tunnels, I pondered how I could stop one if ever had to...

“Or so they say,” the earth pony buck smirked and winked. What? “The truth is nopony knows what in Tartarus is there, as nopony has ever come back. Well, safe for Common, and who’s to say that those ‘Fabulously Wubbed Adventures’ are true?”

What what adventures? Miss Common? What?

I glanced from Scrap to Midnight, pleading for an explanation.

The unicorn sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s this radio show DJ Pon3 plays on her broadcast around… six pm? I honestly don’t remember…” she murmured as she glanced behind her to see how far away we were from the exit. “Anyway, it’s describes exploits of Miss Common and the first DJ Pon3 from before the latter retired to run that broadcast.”

And the confusion deepens.

“The first DJ Pon3?”

“The grandmother of the current one,” Midnight replied. “Common and she cleared the section of the Royal Castle of Canterlot that was left standing and set up the tower to transmit her broadcast across the Wasteland.”

How come the more I heard about Miss Common, the more badass she sounded? I mean, seriously, she helped found the only radio station in Equestria (I think, it’s still my first day here, I can be wrong), and she’s a freaking hero of a radio show! How can you top that?!

“And getting back to your comment, Scrap,” Midnight said, glaring at the earth pony (Oh, look at the threat in her eyes! How glad I am she’s not looking at me!) “about whether those ‘Adventures’ are made up or not, I hope you weren’t accusing my friend of exaggerating some facts there.”

“The day I’ll say anything bad about a pony you consider a friend will be the day when I’ll officially get tired of living,” the buck replied with a smirk.

Midnight seemed satisfied with his answer as she just nodded and turned to me. “You can try to catch the show later if you like, but know this; no matter if what Common and DJ have went through in the Crystal Empire is said truthfully on the broadcast or not, the fact still stands they had barely gotten out. So you, Stable-idiot, will never, ever, try to get in, got it?”

“Y-yeah, sure!” I almost immediately replied, and meant it. Surrounded by mist that kills you, probably with hundreds of indestructible ghouls and Luna knows what else? Count me out! Besides, I still needed a water talisman, everything else was not important. Reminding myself that, and finally reaching the end of this cursed tunnel, I asked: “When are we going for that stable?”

“Depends on how quickly Ol’ Doc can put you together. The local doctor,” she explained, seeing my puzzled look. “If he manages to do it quickly, we might be off within two hours. If not, then could be around evening or tomorrow morning.”

That part didn’t make sense to me. Why wait until tomorrow? Wouldn’t it be better to trot through the night? I opened my mouth to voice my opinion, but…

“I am not going during night into the newest raider territory with Wasteland’s newest newbie, a buck that will be too lost in his schemes to get the said newbie into bed to pay any attention whatsoever, all while having 303 behind us, just because you like that time.”

And my mouth closed, although I wasn’t sure if it was due to Midnight being by now annoyed, the fact that she had a point, or by what she said about Scrap and me and bed… Oh, Goddesses, why did I think that?! Now there was an image stuck in my head…!

In hopes of pushing that away I gazed into the rapidly approaching station. Voices of other ponies reached me well before I saw them: workers wearing similar jumpsuits to those I saw and helped rescue within the tunnels. A one or two ponies also wear the black armor of 303 Company; those ponies had their carbines lifted at us, but once we came closer they relaxed. I caught surprised glances on their faces.

“Seems they didn’t expect to see us again,” Midnight whispered to me, clearly pleased with herself (and maybe with me as well!).

As we passed through the station, slid into one of the side rails to not block the train, I got the glimpse of the city outside the tunnel, the Capital Station. My pupils had already shrunk to accommodate me with the much brighter environment, letting me see everything.

It was clear to me that while Desert Station had been put together after the Last Day, the town of this end had a different history. Even as I searched my memory - and by doing so I recalled finally that there used to be a military base here - I could see the solid forms of building, damaged by time and marked by explosions here and there. They weren’t made from scraps, but those were actual pre-war structures, even if some of them had to be clearly remade.

“Well, Nightkin,” Scrap said as he jumped of the trolley and stretched his tired legs, “welcome to the Capital Station, city twice bigger than Desert Station and, now with the raiders all around Capital Wasteland, it’s about thrice larger population. Used to be some a military outpost during the war, survived the apocalypse, but sadly got trashed pretty badly by one of the earliest group of raiders.”

So that’s why it didn’t look as good as it could… I nodded, listening to his explanation, while Midnight - who also allowed herself a moment of respite after the ride - was checking her bags before we would leave.

Pondering if I should offer her some help, I turned to Scrap to ask about those raiders. It was then I noticed the other buck was staring at my eyes with a smile.

“Damn, you’ve got sexy eyes.”

I yelped and jumped back, taken by surprise. Scrap Tech just chuckled and shook his head, turning around to check if the trolley was properly secured.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t get drunk with him around,” Midnight told, her eyes still checking her bags. “He would never take a buck against his will, but alcohol makes ponies stupid, so-”

“I wouldn’t buck with a stallion!” I protested sharply, my hind legs giving in on me and letting my rum fall on the trolley’s seat.

“Hurt my feelings more why don’t you?”

I facehoofed upon hearing the singing response from Scrap Tech. I didn’t even have a clue if he was really one hundred percent joking, or if I did hurt him! Ponies on the Outside are cruel!

My moral misery caused by my social awkwardness was clearly of great amusement to Midnight. I glared at her while sulking until she shook her head and looked at me seriously. “Are you able to walk?”

My mouth opened to reply that yes, I am able to walk, in fact I galloped from the horde of zombies while running away from the imminent explosion (while on Med-X… and I ended up passing out at the last stretch...), but I was taken over by a coughing fit, this time a real one. I covered my muzzle with hoof as I spat something - blood again, most likely - on it before something bad and socially unacceptable could happen.

“Are you alight?” Midnight asked me, that subtle note of concern in her melodic voice.

“Yeah, just bruised…” I muttered; girls love tough guys, right? Slowly, I tried to raise “Lemme just-”

“Wait!” Midnight grabbed my hoof with her magic, unbalancing me in the process. She pulled my leg towards her as I fell down. “You’re bleeding internally?”

“Um… yes? I mean, I’m pretty torn up-”

“You don’t start bleeding internally from getting your limbs broken!” she snapped. Over her shoulder I saw Scrap Tech look back with concern. “That mine didn’t hurt your chest badly enough, you only have bits of shrapnel in it! To cough blood you would need to have your lung punctured, and you don’t. Now, tell me: are you nauseous? Problems with breathing?”

I nodded to both, causing Midnight’s and Scrap’s eyes to widen. Fear gripped me; what was their problem? I had my head crippled and had bits of metal in my chest, it was rather obvious that I would have problems with breathing and was nauseous, right? I somewhat relaxed when the unicorn groaned with annoyance and facehoofed, while the buck behind her trotted over, scrabbling in his saddlebacks.

“I swear, if Common ever tries to guilt me into any job, I will laugh at her face…” Midnight muttered as she rubbed her eyes. Looking at me sharply, she asked: “How, by Luna’s moon, you didn’t notice that you have a radiation disease?!”

“What?!” I jumped up. “No I don’t! I took Rad-X as soon as I entered the radiated area…”

“How many?” Scrap asked, pulling a small electronic device with an extended cable hooked up to a probe that he now moved over my body.

“One, when I passed those doors that the earthquake opened.”

As his device began clicking, he glanced at Midnight, who just groaned and turned away. “Err…” Scrap tried to comprehend what was apparently another performance of my idiocy. “You do know that the radiation field started some ten, twenty meters earlier, right? Or that one Rad-X wouldn’t last for the entire way?” My shocked look must have answered him. “Well, thankfully, you only caught like two hundred rad units. But c’mon, you have a PipBuck, you must have noticed-”

“He’s got an outdated spell matrix,” Midnight said, returning; a transparent bag of yellow liquid floating beside her. Without any word to me she showed the tube of the RadAway into my mouth, almost making me choke. “The PipBucks 1000 didn’t have a rad counter build into them, didn’t they?”

Scrap gaped, looking at me. “You’re kiddin’... yeah, they didn’t, and if this PipBuck has a spell matrix copied from that model, then it’s rad counter wouldn’t work properly… oh, you poor baby!” he exclaimed as he lunged… for my PipBuck, oh praise Luna. “What a cruel twist of fate, for such a masterpiece of technology and you are doomed to work with this old spell matrix.”

By the Goddesses, was he cuddling and petting my PipBuck? I glanced at Midnight for support as I gulped down the RadAway - tastes disgusting, by the way, kinda like a liquid fat but with an odd flavor - and saw her rolled her eyes. “Scrap, don’t make a scene,” she said, kicking him lightly in the side. “If we’ll get a chance, I’m sure Nightkin will let you tinker with it, but right now I kinda want to start making preparations to leave, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah…” he mumbled reluctantly. “You know, just because I offered Nightkin to go with him to the stable as an apology, it doesn’t mean you get to boss me around.”

“Well, tough luck, ‘cause until he gets back to the Desert Station he’s under my care. And that means I’m in charge. Now pick him up.”

Both I and Scrap Tech just stared at her. “Huh?!”

“This is so humiliating,” Scrap Tech murmured under his breath, echoing my thoughts.

I keep telling myself that being carried on the back of an earth pony throughout the streets of the city was nothing to be ashamed of, given my injuries. It wasn’t hard to remember that last part, as I was in a constant pain, even if it became somewhat easier to breath thanks to Midnight’s RadAway. But the smirks on ponies and griffins faces that we passed by, most of which were 303 mercenaries, told me that my new friend’s… preferences were quite known, which made this experience rather embarrassing. And the fact that all those glances we received quickly changed into confused stares once they noticed my wing wasn’t helping me.

On that matter, there were a lot of those 303 guys around the town. Omitting those few that we passed by on the streets - where they were hugely overwhelmed in numbers by refugees from across the Capital Wasteland - the majority of them I could see hanging around (and above) city’s walls, which were much more fortified than Desert Station’s. Oddly, most of them were pegasi and griffins. I made a mental note to ask Midnight or Scrap about that later.

Speaking of Scrap, he, on the other hoof, wasn’t happy to be reduced to the role of a ‘pack mule’. He kept repeating how Midnight was being racist for assuming that an earth pony had to be the one to carry me.

“No, I assumed that the one to carry him had to be the one that nearly killed him with explosives and an earthquake,” the blue unicorn retorted, fed up with his whining. Glancing at him, she added: “I have no idea why are you complaining, I placed a cute buck on you back. You should be beside Celestia and Luna right about now.”

I’m blushing because she called me cute, I’m blushing because she called me cute…

“I like to be on top…” Scrap Tech murmured.

Sweet merciful Luna, deliver me from him!!!

Midnight, who had discarded her mercenary’s impassioned gaze some time ago, looked back at me with a smirk. It was clear to me that this was her way of getting back at me.

“Now,” she said, stopping at the crossroad, “I need to get supplies prepared, as somepony is broke and caused an earthquake that destroyed a lot of somepony’s else staff,” Underneath me, Scrap coughed uncomfortably. “Can I trust that you’ll see my charge to the doc?”

“Sure, sure…” he rolled his eyes. “‘Your charge’... how Common got you into doing this?”

“None of your business,” Midnight replied, and then looked at me. “How much you have on you?”

“Um… about…” I glanced at my PipBuck. “... almost four hundred?”

“I’m taking them, you would be probably scammed if you tried to buy anything,” she said, trotting to me and glancing at my saddlebag. I tried not to frown. I wasn’t a helpless foal, for crying out loud! “While we’re at it,” Midnight continued, my small pouch of bottle caps floating beside her while she still peered into my bag, “I was wondering why you changed clothes.”

My stable security barding floated from my saddlebag. I winced at the poor state it was in.

“Yeah, it saved my life… at price of its own,” I joked sadly, gazing at the number thirty-nine on it. Pointing at Operative’s Magic Gun barding, I added: “I found this armor down in the tunnels.”

Midnight rolled her eyes at my dramatisation. “One of the merchants should be able to fix it if you want,” she said, glancing at my fl- oh wait, she was looking at my barding. “This one is also ragged, probably because of somepony’s mine-”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Whatever,” she scoffed Scrap’s apology, placing my ruined barding back into my saddlebags, then taking it off me with magic and turning around to place on her back next to her own saddlebags. “It will be quicker to use parts from this armor to fix your stable barding. Take it off… and I better not see that wing raised when I turn around, or else I’m giving Scrap a supply of roofie and some time alone with you once you’re better.”

“Midnight, I really don’t do that…”

“Oh, don’t ruin my fun.”

“Um…” I murmured. Should I ask what’s a roofie? Instead, I concentrated on keeping my wing (who suddenly got all stiff when Midnight told me to take off my barding) as close to my body as possible, guessing that whatever was supposed to be involved with Scrap getting ‘some alone time with me’ was most likely something I’d wish to avoid. That was further confirmed by the giggle the earth pony uttered as I wiggled out of my barding. “How much time will it take?” I snuffed from the pain.

“Probably less that getting you fixed,” Midnight replied, placing the pre-war military armor in her bags and turned to leave. “I’ll be waiting for you at Mom’s Diner. See you two later… oh, and Nightkin?”

I raised an eyebrow as she glanced back. Why was she smir-

“Wear protection.”

My jaw just dropped as held the eye contact long enough to see my reaction, before she turned off and went her way, leaving me and Scrap to trot the opposite direction to see the town doctor. I noticed that Scrap - who was amused by her remark, even if he didn’t know where it came from - glanced at me before he began walking, but I paid him little attention. My mind was busy with trying to comprehend her. Midnight could act all professional-like to the point that I would have thought that she doesn’t care about me at all, but there were moments that I heard in her voice genuine warmth. And this constant embarrassing me, the last comment being a nail to my metaphorical coffin of blushing… was Midnight beginning to like me? Should I try… talking to her? Or would a bit bolded move cost me having her return back to the cold gazes?

And by that I mean that she would look at me like that all the time, not just the eighty percent she lowered herself into.

“Ugh, I’ll never understand mares!” I muttered angrily, causing Scrap to chuckle. I was about to reassure him that I still don’t like bucks, but it suddenly hit me: he knew Midnight longer that I. Maybe he could tell me? “Hey, Scrap…” I asked, still darker on my cheeks, “do you think I… you know, have a chance with Midnight?”

To my surprise, I felt the earth pony underneath me go stiff for a moment. I had expected laughter, a gentle negative reply, a cruel negative reply, some advice, or an… alternative proposition, but this…

“Tell you what,” he said as he relaxed; was it just me, or did his voice sound refrain? “You go ahead and try woo her, and then you can tell me about it, ok?”

“Um… okay?” I replied. My mind was already sorting out the risks and possibilities this advice of his could give birth to. Should I try something? But what? Ask her out? Would be difficult with the lack of restaurants or cinemas… or with her having my caps...

“And getting back to your earlier statement..,” Scrap continued and I twitched an ear to better hear him. “If you fear you won’t have much luck with mares…”

“Ugh, Scrap…” I said, rubbing my face with a hoof to hide my embarrassment. “Look, I’m flattered, really, and all that, but I like only mares, okay?”

“So?” the earth pony smirked back; far ahead of him, I could see a two-story building with a neon sign that said ‘Ol’Doc’ over the entrance. “Doesn’t mean I can’t keep trying.”

Actually, that was exactly what I meant…

“Or, you know, that I would stop making fun of you,” he added, winking.

Groaning, I listened to him chuckling. Again, I was not sure if he joking or being serious. Would it hurt him to make such things clear?

“Joking aside though,” Scrap began soon after his laughter had trailed off, “I wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind if I took a good look at your PipBuck? Maybe I could figure out why it has an old spell matrix?”

My first instinct was to tell him that yes, sure. Not only it would literally cost me nothing, but it would be nice to know a bit more about my PipBuck. I knew, of course, that it used to belong to somepony else before me, but it somehow never hit me that I had a unique model of the device with an incorrect spell matrix. The PipBuck technician that deleted the previous owner personal data files prior giving it to me didn’t mention anything about it. Granted, he was far more interested about teasing me for getting one so late. Usually you’d get your PipBuck on the day you discovered your cutie mark, but since I was still a blank flank by the time everypony from my class had one and started working, the Overmare had simply given me some fancy named aptitude test to see what my job for the good of the Stable would be. I’m still not sure how I ended up as a shift supervisor… anyway, they gave me my Pipbuck after that and…

Wait, where was I? Or right, Scrap asked me to lend him my PipBuck. Well, yeah, I was just about to agree, but then I remembered that I barely knew the buck. And that our acquaintanceship hasn’t exactly started at the best of terms, what with the mine and the earthquake. It didn’t take me long to imagine what Midnight would think of me if I just gave him my PipBuck.

“Thanks for the offer, really, but…” I trailed off, hoping to say this right to not offend him. “Midnight already calls me a ‘Stable-idiot’ without me giving away the most important thing I have to a buck that nearly killed me like an hour ago.”

“Boy, she got you whipped,” Scrap commented, and I groaned quietly in humiliation. “It’s not like I was gonna leave you dupped behind, especially given that the company you keep could track me down and shoot dead from like a mile... But yeah, I kinda see your point. Maybe when we get back from this Stable you will give it another thought? Or, better yet, when we’re there, I could use their PipBuck Technician professional tools to copy the spell matrix from my PipBuck into yours! It’s just one model younger, might not work like a charm, but should do better that the 1000’s you are using!”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll like that,” I replied, smiling at his enthusiasm, and amused that he referred to Midnight’s PipBuck as his.

“But you will have to let me have a good look at it in return. If I read the blueprints for the Epsilon model correctly, they’d gotten some sweet features, but I want to be certain… I cannot imagine how they exactly managed to fit those into a PipBuck…”

As Scrap Tech began murmuring to himself about the requirements for those ‘sweet features’ to work and how there should be no way for them to actually be on a device as small (something about the energy output exceeding the size of the spark battery and the spells inner coding would took too much space or some crap, I dunno, he lost me at “energy output”), I gazed at the clinic’s open door. I sighed with relief when I spotted no other ponies (or other sentient creatures) in need of medical attention, meaning that we wouldn’t have to stand in line for a treatment. Oh, and that nopony was hurt, that was good too.

The neon sign above the doors was, thankfully, turned off. Getting a seizure attack with all my injuries wasn’t something I wanted right now.

“Nice sign, huh?” Scrap stopped his techno-bubble once we were almost at the doorstep. “There a shop in Applewood that makes them, I bought it as a birthday gift before they kicked me out of the town.”

“Oh, you know this doctor?”

“You could say that,” he replied with a wink as he opened to door and entered.

Once I was able to focus on my surroundings instead of how uncomfortable Scrap made me feel (again), I noticed that Ol’Doc’s clinic was probably the cleanest place I seen ever since I left my stable. By that I meant the room after of the anteroom, that one, lined with seats and some pillows (there were a few magazines, too) was still dirty. But the actual room in which the doctor treated ponies was kept clean, from the shelves and cabinets by the walls to the large table at the middle.

“Dad!” Scrap said out loud as we entered the room, making me almost jump and glance sharply at him. “I’ve got a patient for you!”

I mouthed the word ‘dad’ as the side door (leading probably to an office) opened and entered a pony that, besides the horn on his forehead, had a few wrinkles on his face and the graying mane with an exact copy of Scrap Tech. The older buck smiled briefly at his son, but when his sight slides past him unto me, the greeting died in his throat and he frowned.

“You do realize that at this rate I could soon make a living from just patching up your colttoys?”

“I-I-I…” I stuttered as Scrap, chortling furiously, placed me on the table. “I’m not his… colttoy!”

“Sure you aren’t,” Ol’Doc reply made me bashed my head against the table. “What did you do this time, Tech? Shoot a grenade too closely to him?”

“Why do you assume his state is my fault?” the earth pony buck defended himself.

“Because it is!” I snapped at him.

“Oh, hush, colttoy.”

If his intention was to shut me up, then he succeeded.

The doctor just sighed hearing our argument and began examining me. I shivered as I felt his magic wash over me, checking all possible injuries. Scrap’s father was really good in his craft, for he finished in less than a minute. He looked at his son with exasperation.

“For Goddesses sake, one would think you blow up a tunnel in there with him inside,” Ol’Doc said, then narrowed his eyes. “Funny, considering what DJ Pon3 had said earlier on the radio…”

“Hey, that one’s not on me, he blew it up,” Scrap replied, pointing at me.

“NO I DIDN’T!” I retorted, wishing that somepony would finally believe me.

“You two can decide who did what later,” Ol’Doc scolded us. “I don’t like raised voices inside my clinic. That’s why doctors invented anesthetic spells. Now, onto more important matters…” he added, looking at me intensively. “Am I to assume that you are that ‘bat pony’ thing the DJ mentioned this morning?”

“Yes,” I sighed, deciding to not react to that ‘thing’ bit.

“Fascinating…” the old pony murmured, walking around me. Okay, what’s with Scrap’s family’s interest with my body?! “Are your anatomy and biological systems like those of the pegasi? I can’t say I ever treated a bat pony.”

“Um…” I stammered. I hadn’t thought that this might be a problem. “Yes?” I offered with a weak smile.

The doctor sighed. Turning his head to Scrap, he told him: “This might take a while. Go wait in outside,” To me, he said: “I’m going to put you under now. I’ve been told that the sensation of broken bones melding is rather unpleasant, and considering I have a little idea as to what I’m working with, I will have to do this surgery really slowly.”

“Um, okay,” I agreed. It was a better option that being conscious through it. Even if I’m kinda worried with Scrap nearby…

Ol’Doc’s horn began glowing with gray light as Scrap exited the room. “Count from ten to one for me,” he instructed as the door closed.

“Ten,” I started, and I noticed that the glow enveloped me, bringing an odd sensation of relaxation and numbness, “nine, eight… seven… six…”

Everything shook as the loud teeth-hurting noise of the Stable’s door being pulled open resonated in the air. Behind the now open steel door stood a little, pretty gray unicorn mare in stable utility barding, gazing into the darkness laid outside of the Stable. She looked as if she was stunned.

“You don’t have to do this…” sounded a mare’s voice from one of the nearby speakers. “LittlePip, isn’t it?”

It seemed as hearing her gave the small mare strength she needed. She took a step towards the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring her back.”

Bring her back… had somepony else left this Stable?

“No you won’t!” cut in the voice, now stern. “If you leave here, you’ll never be let back!”

Those words struck the mare, and for the second it looked as if she wanted to turn around. But her shock lasted only a heartbeat. With a deep breath, she stepped out the door.

A moment later, the grinding noise of the Stable’s mechanic awakened again. Slowly, the door to her home began closing behind the mare. The hatch turned around, the number embedded on it being-

“Stable Two?” Scrap Tech asked with confusion. “Can’t say I ever heard of that one.”

I fought hard to not let my disappointment shown. For one, given all that I heard about Stables, they only got discovered when they blow up or some other shit. I had no wish for some misery to befall other ponies. And two, it’s not like Luna held me in some special regard to grant me prophetic dreams of an adorably cute mare leaving a Stable.

Still, though, it was so vivid that once I woke up shortly after the surgery, feeling as healthy as a newborn - in a Stable, I wasn’t keen on finding out how healthy foals were without a labour wards around - I had waited for a chance to ask somepony about it. I wasn’t entirely sure why; the post-surgery dream was most likely caused by our next objective, even I could figure that one. So… what caused me to be so interested in it? Was it that mare? I admit, she was a cutie… no drop-dead beauty like Midnight, but being close to her would definitely get my wings up, if you know what I mean.

Oh, and speaking of wings: I was currently hovering next to Scrap Tech as we made our way towards that diner Midnight had mentioned. I wasn’t maybe as fond of flying as some of my friends back in Stable Thirty-Nine (not that any of us was particularly good at it, you can’t learn some epic maneuver and tricks while gliding through small corridors) being grounded for so long made me want to stretch my wings and enjoying the sensation of wind brushing my body as soon as we left Ol’Doc’s clinic. My joy was only dampened by the state my coat was in: it was dirty, splashed here and there in a mixture of blood, dirt, and something green that I assumed was ghouls’ ichor. I contemplated asking if I could take a bath… but considering it was Scrap’s house, I had this strange feeling I should not do that, and instead pressed him to leave, so I could get my barding back from Midnight. I half expected either the doc or Scrap to insist we’d stay longer, but father and son had quickly said goodbyes once the doctor had gave me the last once-over. Seemed pointless, seeing as I could just check my condition on my PipBuck… then again, with everypony telling me that it wasn’t working as it was supposed to…

“It’s kinda odd that you could read the Stable’s number, though,” Scrap continued as he walked and I flew. He narrowed his eyes as he analyzed the details of my dream I just told him about. “I’m pretty sure one medic told me that you cannot do that in dreams… hmm, maybe being a bat pony you are somewhat favored by the Goddess of the Night?”

“I don’t recall ever hearing us about having unusual dreams,” I said, surprised that my subconscious did something it wasn't supposed to be able to do. “And given how this day has been going, I don’t think I am particularly favored. Ugh, why cannot night fall already?!”

Scrap chuckled at my exclamation, which also caused those few ponies that weren’t already gawking at me to join the collective stares. “Oh, calm down, just a few more hours,” the buck told me, then winked. “You know, I also happen to like the nighttime…”

“Yeah, I bet,” I said uncomfortably, steering off from him. “So…” I coughed, needing to change the subject. “Capital Station is your hometown?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, shaking his head. “Dad and I moved here a couple years back, when I was still a colt. I was born in the Boulder City, up north.”

“Boulder City?”

That name sparked some echo in my memory. There was something Miss Common had mentioned to me last night about that town, but a sudden commotion below me took away my attention.

“Hey, watch it!” an earth pony that had bumped into Scrap, sending both of them to the ground, told him as he rose.

“You’re the one that walked into me, jackass!” Scrap replied in kind with a snarl, massaging his head and still staying on the ground.

The other buck looked as if he was about do something he would regret - and given the blast radius of Scrap’s favorite kind of weapons, so would we and every passerby within the five meters range - so I lowered myself to stand by my companion and glared, hoping to intimidate him. It must have worked, for at the sight of a kind of pony that he (undoubtedly) has never seen before he balked back, then sneered at Scrap and walked away.

“Hmph,” Scrap Tech stomped, then looked around at other ponies, who all quickly quit staring. He sighed. “Ever since those raiders fled from Canterlot ruins, the streets have been filled with ponies. Capital Station is the only settlement rich enough to hire protection.”

“There aren’t any other towns in Capital Wasteland anymore?” I asked, offering him a hoof to help him stand up.

“‘Fraid not,” he replied, accepting help. “Well, there’s Ponyville, of course; since the slavers often buy from raiders or sell them slaves, they left it alone. And there’s also the Brotherhood of Steel, they have about three different outpost here in the Capital Wasteland, with the Canterlot Palace - which actually ‘belongs’ to DJ Pon3 - being one of them,” Scrap sighed again, shrugging off dirt from his barding. “Pity the mayor doesn’t have the money to hire the 303s to kill those raiders… wait,” he suddenly said, shaking again with narrowed eyes. His hoof shot for his saddlebags, and after a second his eyes widened in alarm. “That son of a mule stole my caps!”

I watched in shock as Scrap turned around and run in the direction the thief had went before I snapped and flew into the air. As much as I hated the idea of leaving the close vicinity of the ground and actually soaring through… the very open space… gulp… I knew that I had a better chance to spot him from up above. So I bucked up and flew higher as I followed Scrap Tech. Much, much higher…

I shook my head as I hovered above the city. The sooner I’d find that thief, the better. I searched for sickly yellow buck with ragged clothes, trying to pay no mind to the curious glances from the pair of 303s pegasi that flew some distance away, probably on patrol or something… Aha, there he is! I spotted the thief sneaking through some narrow alleys a few block away.

Feeling Scrap’s gaze on me, I pointed him at the direction where I found our pony. I would have preferred to land next to him and just tell him, but I feared that the thief would use the time I would waste to hide. So instead of doing what was probably a much more sensible thing, I raced after him.

It wasn’t much of a race, truthfully, as the buck soon just sat down on one of the ruined porches. I growled at the sight of his arrogance and decided to teach him a lesson. Once I was close enough that I could safely take my eyes off him and not worry about him escaping, I dived in between the buildings. I passed the last corridor and lunged at the thief.

The self-satisfied smirk on his face quickly turned into terror as he saw me charging at him. I was later told by somepony that when doing so, I often bare my fangs, which is supposedly terrifying. I’m not sure if I’d done that back then, but the thief didn’t try to fight, instead just bolted right up and started running.

I caught up with him in a manner of seconds and slammed into him at my full speed, causing the both of us to roll on the ground for a bit, before my more agile body managed to stop and rise; I used the moment to turn around and pin the thief by the throat against the closest building.

“Where’s my friend’s caps?” I growled as the thief struggled to escape my hold. Not going to happen. I put more pressure on his throat. “Give back my friend’s caps and I will let you go.”

I actually meant that one. I mean, I was pissed, but if he would give me the caps back, then it would be no harm, no fault. But, of course, if life was so simple…

The first thing that took me off was the subtle change of expression on the buck’s face (by the way, his breath stunk! Dear Goddesses, had he ever washed his teeth?!); from fear to nervous smirk. Before I had a chance to ponder about it, I heard the sound of hoofsteps behind me. As in: plural.

“There are ponies behind me, huh?” I asked the thief, who nodded. “You’re friends?” Another nod. “Well… shit.”

I grabbed the thief and whirled around, throwing him at the two from trio of advancing ponies and causing them to fall down. As I took a good look at the band, I took some solace in the fact that none of them had any firearms, but the knives and baseball bat still looked perfectly capable of ruining all of Ol’Doc’s hard work.

So, things didn’t look quite hot for me. I mean the odds when facing four ponies are never in your favor, unless you happen to have a minigun and they charge at you in a straight line. But on top of being outnumbered, I also was weaponless. All of weapons where either strapped to my barding or in my saddlebag, both of those were with Midnight. I also had no idea how soon would Scrap Tech catch up, and when he does, he would remember that that his explosives had already nearly killed me today? Given his father’s comment about him constantly bringing his… ugh, colttoys, in state similar to mine, I doubted that.

And, of course, I couldn’t even get away, because there was this raggedy looking pegasus hovering above us, ready to pounce at me (funny, I think this was the first flying sentient being that wasn’t part of the 303 Company). I somehow managed to plan that the moment he tries to swoop down and attack me, I would fly into the air, but for now…

The closest pony jumped at me, slashing with his knife. I moved to the side with ease. I placed my front hooves on the ground, reared up, and bucked with all my strength… causing the buck to barely stumble. Shit, I knew I wasn’t exactly packed, but come on, I seriously couldn’t even throw him off?!

I’d need something sharp…

The buck turned around and slashed again, making me back away. Another pony with a knife tried to flank me, but a quick turn of my head and a short sonic scream later made him stagger back and fall down, tripping his friend. Satisfied, I looked for the one with the baseball bat... which just so happened to slam against my chest. The impact sent me back and I collided with the wall, breathless. The part of my brain that wasn’t troubling itself with my incoming demise noted that I just got that chest repaired, for pony sake!

My attacker didn’t give me a moment to catch my breath. Instead, he trotted over, and pressed the baseball bat against my throat, not choking me, but preventing movement.

“Sho, this mighty ‘bat pony’ thought he could shteal from ush, huh?” he asked, his mouth moving around the bat’s handle, and leaning over to look me straight in the eye. Ugh, and I thought that the previous one had a bad breath. “Attacking mah errand cholt whas a big mishtake, Freak!”

I paid him little attention. I was far more interested by what I saw strapped to his leg.

A knife.

Thinking fast, I looked at the pony in front of me… and smiled. My expression must have thrown him a back, causing his eyes widened.

“And stealing from my friend was a grave mistake, stinky!” I said, my eyes glancing to the side.

The buck holding me cursed around the bat’s handle and, his hooves still pinning me to the wall, he glanced back… but saw only the rest of his gang, looking around as confused as he. Growling, he looked back at me.

My tail swung up, the knife I grabbed loosely with it slashing him across the throat. Blood splodge my coat as he gurgled. I did not need medical training to know he was now drowning in his own blood. Even if I had killed a bunch of ghouls a few hours ago and raiders last night, I might have still gone into shock if the remaining ponies didn’t jump at me. As such, my survival instincts kicked in, forbidding me from standing over the gang leader’s dead body for too long. Grabbing the knife with my mouth, I lounged at the closer one and entered S.A.T.S, lining up slashes to take him out. The first one was blocked by his own knife, but the second one hit him under muzzle, and with a step back I delivered the last stab into his throat.

Unfortunately, as I concentrated on one, the other two attacked. I managed to evade the pegasus, but the searing pain in my left shoulder signaled that the remaining earth pony just stabbed me. I dropped my knife and was about to reply with a sonic scream, when the buck twisted the blade embedded into my body, causing a pained shriek to escape my mouth instead of a devastating blast. I dropped to the ground and felt him pull his weapon out of my injured shoulder, while something heavy dropped on my back and pinned me to the ground.

“You fucker,” the voice above me - probably belonging to the pegasus - rasped with fury. “We were going to just trash you around a bit, but now…”

A hoof collided with my kidney. Hard. Scrap Tech, now would be a really good time to pop up…

“We’re going to sell your ass to Ponyville! They will pay a lot for a-”

Whatever he wanted to call me was forever denied from the world to hear as his head exploded in a fountain of red, preempted by a sound of gun firing.

I raised my head just in time to see the other buck look up, before another blast destroyed his skull. The pegasus body slide from my body as I tried and failed to rise. Cursing, I used my wings to help myself up and I managed to sit as from above a familiar shape neared.

“Hey, Freak!” Hedwig grinned landing beside me… atop the dead body of an earth pony buck. “Good to see you’re still kicking.”

“Not as good as seeing you,” I commented, smiling through clenched teeth. I felt as if my shoulder was on fire. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Eh, I got free time until tomorrow, had to do something,” she shrugged. A noise caught both of our attentions. Turning our heads, we saw the last pony - the one who stole from Scrap - had curled up and was sobbing. “So, you wanna kill him or what?”

Oh, yes, I wanted too. First he stole from my friend, then he practically led me into an ambush, which caused me great pain, and I was still bleeding from the terrible wound in my shoulder. Not to mention that if it weren’t for Hedwig I would have been in much worse shape and could be sold as a slave. I wanted to kill him… but something he said as I flew towards him - I had to, my good forehoof was busy stopping the bleeding of my wound - made me stop dead me dead in my tracks.

“Please, don’t!” the buck wept as he realized that I was just in front of him. “I have kids!”

My eyes grew wide hearing that. I stopped, staring at him, my thoughts echoing what he just said.

I have kids… I have kids… I have kids…

I was just about to kill some little foals’ father…

“You have kids?” I asked calmly, feeling empty.

“Y-yes…” the thief stuttered, still scared shitless. “W-we fled here after Rockopolis w-was overtaken by r-raiders… but I couldn’t f-find any work with everypony coming here, s-so we starved…”

It just now became clear to me how I managed to so easily overpower him when I finally got a good, up-close look at him. He was so thin that I could see his ribs under his rugs.

“I-I joined the Butcher’s gang to get caps for some food…” the yellowish stallion continued. “Please, let me go! My kids have only me! I can’t die…”

I was dimly aware of Hedwig observing me, but I couldn’t care less.

“My friend’s caps?” I asked, lowering myself to the ground in front of him.

“H-here!” he squeaked, his hoof taking the sack from inside his barding and throwing in front of me.

I bent down to pick the sack (which was quite heavy, Scrap had a lot on himself), and then positioned myself so that my head was a few inches away from him. “Did you know that bat ponies can tell when a pony is lying to them when they look into their eyes?” I asked slowly. Of course, I just made that up, but how was he supposed to know? “I want you to repeat what you just said; about your foals, and how you starve. If you’ll lie-”

“I’m not lying! I have two daughters, Prism Sphere and Marvel Sphere, and we-”

That was enough for me. I heard what I needed, and if Midnight or whoever else would call me a naive idiot - fuck them.

“Here,” I stopped him, giving him a hooffull of caps from the sack; about two hundred by my count. The buck’s eyes widened as the gazed at the small pile. “Take them.”

“I-I…” he stammered, not knowing what to say.

I did.

He didn’t even have time to shriek as I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him, my rage giving me the strength to do so with one hoof. “Now listen to me,” I growled quietly. “If I ever catch you stealing again; if you ever try to make a living for your daughters this way, by taking from other ponies; if you ever set such an example for them; I will fucking murder you! Got it?!”

The buck rasped something that barely resembled “yes”. I let him go and he slumped down, landing hard on his rump. I backed away as he coughed few times, then he got up, hastily picked up the caps I gave him, muttered “thank you” and galloped the other way.

“Wow,” Hedwig summed up as I sit down next to where she was. “Can’t say I ever saw something like that.”

“Well, I’m glad that I entertained you,” I rasped, too… shaken by what I had nearly done to focus on her. How could I have decided to kill a pony like that? He was defenseless, without a weapon… he didn’t attack me during this entire fight… and I… I…

… I felt really dizzy…

“Oh, shit…” I murmured, glancing at my heavily bleeding shoulder. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“I have to agree, doctor Freak,” the griffin merc replied, shaking her head. “I wondered how long it will take for you to notice you are dying. Here.”

I caught the purple healing she threw me, too dazed from my bloodloss to wonder why she just gave it to me.

“What in the-” came another familiar voice from the edge of the alley. “Nightkin! The fuck happened?”

“Long story,” I lied; it would have taken only about five pages to tell what happened since we parted if my count was right… which, given the amount of red oozing out of me and the bizarre train of thoughts my brain was going through, could not be trusted. Healing potion, come to pappa!

“By Celestia phallic horn…” Scrap murmured as he looked at the dead, the work of Hedwig and I, while I enjoyed the sensation of not dying and having my health restored. “Should’ve come back for me, huh?”

I just glared at him as my wound closed, not really wanting to admit that he had a point. Kinda.

“What took you so long?” I asked instead, throwing him back his sack. Then, reminding myself of Hedwig’s presence, I quickly introduced them: “Scrap, Hedwig; Hedwig, Scrap Tech.”

“Hi,” he said as he caught the sack, while Hedwig just smirked and nodded. “I got lost,” he admitted and began counting his caps; to his credit he did blush a little. “I ran in the direction you flew, but the alley I took was a dead end, so I had to get back to the crossroad… look, suffice to say that until I heard gunshots, I had no idea where you were. Why is there one hundred eighty six caps missing?”

Rolling my eyes and wondering how he remembered how many he had in the sack, I rose. “I will pay you back once we get back to Midnight,” I said, after which I turned to the griffon, who until now observed the scene with amusement. “Hedwig, would you like to come with us? Since you saved me, the least I could do is offer you a dinner.”

“Inviting girl you’ve known just a day to a dinner?” she asked with arched eyebrow.

“I- what?” I stammered, taken aback by what she suggested. “N-no, I didn’t mean it like.. Not that you’re not pretty, but I- um, you know, as a thank you?”

Could a griffin giggle? Because I’m certain this one was doing it right now. Oh, and Scrap was, too. So, Goddesses, let me get this straight; I did something that I’m pretty certain was a good deed, and this is how I get repaid?

“Well, it’s not like I have nothing against a free meal,” Hedwig said once she cased her giggling. She tilted her head to glare at me with one eye, still smirking. “Free warning, softie; I eat meat, so don’t be horrified.”

“So?” I asked, raising eyebrows, and then I opened my mouth wide and pointed at my fangs. “Ah et met tho.”

The griffin eyes slightly widened as she looked at my sharp teeth. After a second she tore away her gaze and moved it to my eyes. “You know,” she hummed, her tone losing nothing of her predatory nature as she walked past me, “you just keep getting more interesting.”

Her tail tip brushed my chin.

My gaze traveled from staving off Hedwig to Scrap, while my brain’s processing was somewhere along the lines of “What? Huh? What? Why? What?” stage. I jumped up to Scrap, who also looked at the griffin with interest, the pain in my shoulder nothing but a memory.

“Did she just… come on to me?” I asked quietly.

“You know, I’m not sure. I’ve only been with one griffin, and he wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Ugh, I didn’t need that image. I scratched my head as Scrap quickly raced to catch up with Hedwig, wondering how in Tartarus it was possible that this time yesterday I was still asleep in my bed in Stable Thirty-Nine.

I shook my head as I was about to go after them, but my ears twitched. I heard something behind me, something… oddly sounding. I turned my head to see what it was - as that noise was too quiet for me to make out - but all I saw was a small shimmer that quickly disappeared around the corner.

Confused, I was about to race after it, but a quick glance at my E.F.S. told me there were no hostiles nearby, so whatever it was, it must have been harmless.

“Hey, Nightkin?” Scrap’s voice sounded from further back. Reluctantly, I turned around and flew after them. “How come among the corpses there wasn’t the guy who robbed me?”

“Geez, no wonder she called you ‘softie’,” Scrap exclaimed once I shortly explained to him what happened. He turned to Hedwig, who stayed quiet throughout the entire walk. “I thought you were referring to his meat.”

“I don’t eat ponies,” Hedwig replied, slightly amused.

“Sweetie,” Scrap smiled, “I wasn’t talking about that meat.”

It took both me and Hedwig a good second to figure out what he meant. Well, it took her a second to figure it out; I became enlightened once she erupted with laughter. Great, now I was going to get double teamed by them… wait, wrong allusion in this case.

Sighing, I was the first to enter the Mom’s Diner, with the laughing duo behind me. The diner was as spacious as it looked from the outside, but it was much cozier. There were plenty of tables everywhere, placed in such distance from one another that everybody would be comfortable while eating. My heightened senses (and my PipBuck with her tag on it) quickly located Midnight from the sea of all the other patrons, sitting in the darker corner. How lovely. The blue unicorn was reading some magazine; next to her was a glass of water.

We started making our way towards her, when she glanced up from her read. Her eyes traveled from me to Hedwig and back to me. I winced mentally, recalling the distaste Midnight had for the griffin merc (as well as any 303 merc), and was about to explain the why she was here.

“Why, I didn’t expect we would have a guest,” Midnight spoke, smiling sweetly to the griffin. A buzha wha? “Come along, you can order whatever you want. Scrap is paying.”

“Wowowowowow, what?!” Scrap exclaimed, staring at Midnight as if she lost her mind. “What in Tartarus makes you think I will pay for her dinner? Nightkin invited her.”

“Oh, don’t be an idiot, Scrap, you will be paying for all our dinners,” Midnight waved off his words with a flick of a hoof. “And as for ‘why’;” she added as she leaned closer to him, the pretended jovial humor gone; “I had left my charge with you and you bring him back with a freshly healed wound on his shoulder, loads of fresh blood on his coat, and a griffin merc hanging around him. Forgive me for jumping the gun here and assuming you screwed up royally…”

She trailed off, daring him to deny. Scrap just sighed and slumped down on a chair that was furthest away from her, while the unicorn, smirking in satisfaction, returned to her magazine. Hedwig and I chuckled - it was a nice change of pace for me - as we also sat.

Midnight’s horn glimmered, without her looking up from her read, and from inside her bags levitated two books. I watched in confusion as she placed them in front of me. “Read them as we eat,” she commanded. “You might start was we wait for somepony to come pick our orders.”

I glanced at the books that she gave me. One had a title ‘Applied Gemstones’ with the cover having a pony’s statue with a minigun-like magical energy weapon strapped to him and firing on it, while the other, ‘Guns and Bullets’, depicted a shotgun, a hunting rifle, and a small revolver.

“Um… Midnight? Why do I need to…”

“‘Cause your shooting is terrible,” she told me flatly. “I heard how many bullets you wasted on those two ghouls back in the tunnels. Read those and you might learn something.”

Her voice once again carried a threat that told me something bad would happen to me if I didn’t listen. Wincing, I took the Guns and Bullets and started reading.

Footnote: Level Up!

New perk added: Tail trick - Allows you to use your tail as prehensile limb, capable of handling or throwing small items (much like a… what are those things called?).