The day was turning out to be a bit boring, something I would come to learn soon enough was typical of Fillydelphia. If you weren't out doing something that put you in mortal danger, you were flying patrols over the most uninteresting scraps of dead buildings imaginable. That wasn't exactly what I had pictured, and to say the least my grand visions of doing important things to further the restoration of Equestria were already tempered. That's what the recruitment fliers said anyway. “Secure the future of Equestria! Protect the workforce that will rebuild our nation!” They even had pictures of proud looking griffons soaring through the air, shooting raiders and Hellhounds that were charging at helpless and cowering ponies. It was amazing enough to be printed on fresh paper, for that matter. What young griffon wouldn't fall for that?

As it was, I guess in a sense I was doing just that: flying patrols and making sure the slaves didn't try to run away or start killing each other. That was a little hard to do for the first few days, since Fillydelphia was so different from home that I kept being distracted by the scenery. Dozens of factories had been resurrected from nearly two centuries of death into ramshackle zombies that made most ghouls look healthy, and each one was pumping its own personal flavor of nastiness into the air that we flew through on a daily basis. You tried to avoid touching the thicker clouds if you could, and definitely got out of the rain. Even if it meant flying through the clouds. Getting any of it on you meant stinging rashes if it got on your coat, or nasty corrosion on any unpainted parts of your armor that ensured a thorough chewing out from the quartermaster. The industry and extra thick cloud cover raised the temperature inside the walls to a level that might have been tolerable outside of my armor, but the thick composite plates and ballistic weave between meant I was sweating profusely. I'd get used to it, Sergeant Swiftwing told me.

I'd been learning to adjust to the changes for three days by that point, and I thought I was doing a decent job of it. I didn't have really any prior experience with this sort of thing, but it was patrol day again and that was simple enough. That meant I was gliding over yet another cluster of ancient burnt out low-rises that were probably apartments before the balefire torched them, if the blackened shutters and incinerated husks of shrubbery were any indication. I kept a disinterested eye to the ground, watching for any movement in the deserted streets. This part of Fillydelphia wasn't currently being used for anything, since there were no factories or warehouses or research labs or anything else of real value, and that meant that any ponies around were automatically suspicious.

To my right a snowy colored griffoness, my wingmate Private Ida Whiptail, was riding an air current to save energy as she scanned the alleys and sky chariot lots fenced off by twisted shreds of partially vaporized metal. She didn't look too thrilled to be out here either, but she was several years my senior, literally and in the sense of having served here for a while, and that meant that as the FNG I'd been paired up with her to learn the ropes. She took it in stride at least, and if she resented it she never showed it. 'All part of the job,' she'd said dismissively. It certainly could have been worse. I could have been paired up with that weird griffon who never talked. Isaac I thought his name was. I couldn't imagine what patrolling with him would have been like. She could have had it worse too I suppose. As long as I was getting broken in, our squad wasn't likely to get sent off to get shot at by raiders or worse.

We lazily banked around the gutted skeleton of a taller highrise and continued our patrol deeper into the old city. These bigger and more elaborate buildings got more and more common the deeper into the city you got, and ahead of us the skyline was choked with them. Office buildings, probably. Like the residences, anything of remote value had been salvaged decades before I'd set paw or talon in the city. We weaved around another precarious shell of a tower that looked like it would collapse if we so much as touched it.

No ponies had any reason to be out here, so I kept watching for movement of any sort. Ida told me before we set out that she'd personally only caught two slaves out in this area in four years. Odds were pretty low that I'd see anything, and even if a pony did slip by without me seeing them, what harm could they possibly do out here? I shook my head and fought off a yawn. Patrol hours got shifted around the night before and that meant I was running on around four hours of sleep. The moment we got back to the barracks I was going to try to fix that.

I suppose if I hadn't been so bored and sleepy I'd have missed the mare cowering in the lobby of one of those office buildings. The moment I opened my eyes from the yawn I caught a glimpse of her ragged black coat shifting around through the skylight. I spread my wings and braked to slow down enough to circle back and look again. There was definitely someone moving around in there. A fluttering of nerves settled in my stomach as I looked back for Ida. She was just realizing I'd broken formation and was in the middle of coming back to join me. I didn't wait for her. If the pony did cause trouble somehow, I didn't want to be responsible for her getting away. I might even impress someone higher up with apprehending a runaway in my first week.

The skylight was really more of an opening with little shards of glass still clinging to it than a window now, which left plenty of room for me to fly in and get the literal drop on her. I'd never met a pegasus, and in my experience no ponies really expected things like that, so even if she was armed I didn't expect any trouble. At the last moment I tucked my wings and soared through the former window, which worked better than I expected. There was more than enough room for me to flare my wings again and start a controlled dive down the two floor foyer. I zipped past a crumbling fountain that hadn't worked in centuries, spotted the mare in the corner near a window and landed in the center of the lobby with a satisfying thump that got her attention.

She panicked and scrabbled to her hooves, trailing her grimy and greasy white mane and tail behind her as she fled for the door. “Hold it!” I shouted and leveled my rifle at her. Naturally she paid me no attention, so I fired off a warning shot that struck the door molding and sent splinters of wood spraying through the air.

The mare squealed and skid on all four hooves a short distance before flashing me a wild-eyed and terrified glance. Holding a gun in her direction didn't seem to do much to convince her to surrender, so she bolted for the blackened double doors again despite the new bullet hole adorning them. She threw her weight into them and bounced off when they refused to budge in the least. At that point, she completely lost it. “Help me, anypony!” she cried as she pawed and bucked at the doors.

“Stand where you are!” I leaped into the air to keep my gun ready and flapped toward her. At that point I had all the reason to shoot her that I needed, and probably should have. Instead, as she wound up yet another desperate buck I shouted, “Stop and get on the ground!”

The rotten and worn doors could only resist such abuse for so long, and when her hooves rammed into the jamb the handles flew off in another fountain of sawdust. She half tripped over her own hooves as she doubled around and galloped headlong right through the dislodged doors. Another string of whines and whimpers followed as she crashed through and darted down the street.

Where she thought she was going to go, I had no idea. She couldn't possibly escape, and even though there were plenty of places to hide, she'd never get that far ahead of me. Even then I easily followed her thundering hooves into the alley on the right of the building, where I caught sight of her white tail slipping around another corner. Ponies had to jump over or go around inconveniences like dumpsters and debris, but I just flew right over it all, gaining ground on her to the point that in a few seconds I'd be right on top of her. “Stop now, or I'll shoot!” I warned her again.

She slid around another corner, leaving skids in fresh mud, and kicked up small plumes of it when she bolted again. I braked and rolled to pull through the sharp turn, and raised my rifle again. I was going to have to shoot her. As worked up as she was, even if I pinned her she probably wouldn't stop until I shot her. I looked down the sights to line up a shot, and panicked when I saw the fire escapes looming ahead. At the last possible instant I pulled into a hard climb, avoiding the brunt of the impact but still slapping the rusty metal hard with my wing. The stinging resonated through my entire body as I fought to keep her in my sight, but fortunately she just kept galloping on in a straight line.

Shouting from my right caught my attention for a moment, but I riveted my attention back on the black pony rapidly disappearing down the alley. I snapped a shot off that gouged a brick next to her, which at least succeeded in frightening her into jumping away from the impact and into a pile of waste bins. The thin metal never stood a chance as her wildly kicking hooves pounded them into even worse scrap, but they served as a perfect distraction. Shrill cries mixed with the sound of metal hammering against metal and brick assaulted my ears, but above it I heard more shouting from another alley. I didn't have time to worry over that and dove into the gap between the buildings. She just managed to untangle herself from the pile of garbage before I slammed into her with all of my weight. We tumbled together and rolled over as we plowed up more mud, but by more luck than my own skill we stopped with me on top, holding her down with a hand pressing down on her throat.

I didn't even have a chance to speak before she squeaked, “P-please... I-I'm sorry, I'll go back to work.” She brought her hooves up to shield her face. “J-just don't hurt me!”

“Get up,” I commanded, backing off and bringing up my rifle. “You shouldn't have run, I could have shot you.” She didn't need to know that my miss wasn't another warning shot.

Her eyes searched me for a moment as she hesitated, but finally she lowered her hooves and shakily stood. Now that she wasn't a blur of black darting around corners in dark alleys, I could get a good look at her. I didn't like what I saw. Her limbs were thin and shedding fur near the hooves, and her ribs were protruding ahead of a pinched in stomach. Her straggly mane hung over exhausted red eyes that stared at me hard enough she could have seen my soul. “I-I-I'm sorry! I was s-scared. J-just... can I go back to work? I-I won't be anymore trouble, I p-promise.” Her voice was weak as she rasped and gasped for air. How she could have galloped so hard for so long I had no idea. Even terror and adrenaline had limits.

“What were you doing back here? Where are you assigned?” I asked.

Whatever she was going to say was preempted by three more ponies storming into the alley to our side. A big green earth pony stallion with an assault rifle slung at his side threw a hoof up at her. “There you are! You're in deep trouble this time, Glitter.” He waved a hoof at his cohorts and stomped over.

“You in charge of her?” I asked, making room.

He nodded. “Bitch keeps trying to steal food.”

The pink unicorn mare to his side grabbed Glitter's saddle bag with her magic and flipped it open. Three steel cans wrapped in the yellow haze floated out and up to eye level. One had been utterly crushed in the struggle and was leaking something gray and creamy from a rent in its side. Glitter lowered her head. “I-I'm sorry, but I was s-so hungry... p-ponies keep stealing my food. I d-don't think I can go on m-much longer.”

That explained why she was so emaciated. From the way she looked, I was skeptical that anything short of aggressive treatment in a well stocked hospital would fix the damage that had already been done. The odds of that happening were only about as bad as the pony princesses descending on us at that moment to restore her with a kiss, or whatever it was the ponies believed.

“Too bad, that is coming out of your ration,” he said, pointing another hoof at her. The grimy orange unicorn mare with manacles for a cutie mark stepped forward and floated two pairs of shackles around Glitter's hooves. The stallion snorted and nodded at me. “Good to see the griffons actually helping us out for once.”

I held my tongue, deciding to let the event resolve itself with as little involvement from me as was possible. This was technically outside of my authority anyway. Once I handed her off this was no longer my affair.

He cocked an eyebrow and looked away after I offered no response. “Get her back to the metro, her shift started two hours ago. No food for her today.”

Glitter sniffled and hid her face as she was pulled along by the chains around her legs. When she passed by the stallion, he threw a forehoof out and caught her across the jaw hard enough to knock her from her hooves. “This is the last time, Glitter.” He raised a hoof and threatened to strike her again. “Get up!”

“That's enough,” I growled. I stepped forward and glared at him. “You got her and your oatmeal back.” At least I hoped it was oatmeal...

“What's it to you, feathers?” He turned away from her and glared back. “You do your job and let me do mine.”

I knew better. I really did, but I couldn't be quiet. “And beating a half-starved mare is going to make her work better?”

“It might. If it doesn't then it'll make the others work harder. But you know what? It's not your problem. Piss off.” He snorted one last time and turned away to lead the other slavers and Glitter away.

That was new. I was used to ponies making a wide path for me, even before I joined the Talons. In Fillydelphia I hadn't met many ponies who would even look me straight on, much less one who'd talk back to me. Even among the slavers.

“What was that about?” Ida asked from behind me.

I spun to face her and lowered my gun. “Where have you been?” I had no idea how long she'd been there and watching. How could she be so quiet?

“Catching up to you. Breaking off like that was very dangerous you know. Never go in alone if you can help it.” She shuffled her wings and hopped down from the collapsing fire escape.

“I didn't want to risk her disappearing while I got your attention.”

Ida shrugged. “Don't sweat it, it worked out this time. Just be more careful in the future, okay?”

“Understood.” I fell in beside her on the way back out to the main street.

She smirked. “So, you're a little sweet on the ponies, huh?”

“What?”

“I heard you talking. Told the slaver off after he hit that slave.”

“I'm not 'sweet on the ponies,' that was just unnecessary,” I explained. What was that supposed to mean anyway? She was the one who had her feathers pulled into a pony tail of all things.

She nodded. “Okay, okay. Look, just another word of advice? Try not to get involved. It... just doesn't end well.”

We arrived in the street, which was once again devoid of anything save the muggy heat and threatening cloud cover. A noxious gust of wind blew past and we took to the air. “What's that supposed to mean?” I asked, having to raise my voice to carry it over the wind.

“Slaves and slavers. Just don't get involved,” she repeated, frowning. “Trust me on this one.”

“Right. I'll keep that in mind.” I blew out my breath and flapped after her, ready to get this patrol over with so I could go back to the barracks and get some sleep. This was all out of my hands now anyway.

Thankfully the rest of the patrol was much less interesting, consisting mostly of me trailing Ida through the air, yawning a lot and trying to pretend to pay close attention to the streets below. By the time we were winding down we were back over a more populated section of the city, and there were enough slaves trudging along on legitimate business that I couldn't begin to hope to notice anything amiss. Lines of ponies of every color wound through the streets, heads low as they made their ways to their next shift's location. It must have been just after lunch time then, but I was still reeling from an abrupt awakening halfway through the night to go on patrol so my circadian rhythms weren't really telling me much of use. I wasn't hungry either, but that could well have been because the last thing I saw that was supposed to be food appeared to have a lot more in common with cement that hadn't set yet. The thought that most of the ponies below me had just ingested a meal of it made my stomach turn, so I pushed the thought aside and kept my eyes on Ida's backside, trusting her to lead us wherever we were supposed to be headed. Had I not been so sleepy I might have even enjoyed the view.

“Well, that's it. I can see Isaac and Leigh up ahead headed this way. Let's head back.” Ida flashed a smile back at me and waved off to the west.

That was easily the best thing I'd heard all day. A couple of minutes of flying led to a gradual replacement of 'workers' milling around with increasing numbers of ponies wearing cobbled together armor and with guns slung over their sides. Slavers and guards patrolled along improvised wooden paths atop a rusty fence separating Fillydelphia proper and one of the guard camps, making slow rounds with about as much apathy as I felt right then. In the center of the sprawl of tents was a large congregation of ponies cackling over something I dared not look too closely at, surrounded by at least two dozen more looking after their gear or slurping at bowls of something I hoped wasn't oatmeal. Out of context, a comparatively decent place to be I guess.

The barracks wasn't far past the slaver camp, and as was the case with most things related to the Talons compared to the slavers, far better organized. Two rows of scavenged train boxcars sat nestled in a clearing surrounded by high mounds of soil and miscellaneous railroad junk. If I was to believe what Ida told me the day before, there were mines hidden among the detritus and buried below the surface, but what for I couldn't begin to guess. Nobody would have been stupid enough to attack us in our own base in the middle of Fillydelphia. Nevertheless, I couldn't deny the effectiveness of the defenses. High towers affixed with lights kept the entire perimeter well lit throughout the entire day and there was only a single entrance on foot, which would be an obvious kill zone in the event of an attack.

We swooped over the crumbling remains of a train station and passed a green feathered griffon I didn't know on our approach, following the furrowed soil of an old railway that had been pulled up and recycled many years prior. Our wings kicked up a fine spray of dust as we flew over the fortifications and touched down at our car. Ida flicked the safety on her rifle before slinging it around her middle. “Home sweet home.”

I yawned and nodded without a word, then followed her example and stowed my weapon. 'Home' was being very generous. The boxcars that were being used for our improvised sleeping quarters were exactly that: each block was a group of four cars that had a side knocked out so two could be pushed together to make more room, then stacked on top of each other. How they got them there I had no idea, but each such arrangement was home to two squads, with one on each floor. Six blocks made room for twelve squads, most of which hovered around six members, for a total of about eighty griffons in our platoon. Our little slice of heaven was on the ground floor. I'd have preferred the higher quarters, but once you got inside you couldn't tell a difference anyway since none of them had windows. We headed for the door, passing a giant stenciled black number three atop peeling red paint on the way. At least the inside was mostly clean.

“You look pretty rough, why don't you go ahead and get some shut eye? I'll stow your gear for you.”

“Thanks. Uh, is the patrol schedule the same for tomorrow?”

Ida shrugged and pulled hard on the heavy crossbar mechanism securing the door on the car. “As far as I know? If sarge is here he ought to know if anyone does.” The bar slid open with surprising silence and she shouldered it open. “One day we're going to get that lubed...”

Inside a female chuckled. “Aww, come on Ida, you made that one too easy to even say it.” I hopped inside after Ida and found two of our squad mates sitting at a table made from mostly matching pieces of scrap wood and nails almost devoid of rust. Harsh white gem lights illuminated the tarnished metal interior that stung my eyes until I blinked them to adjust. Carmelita, a lean yellow coated griffoness with red tipped feathers, grinned and set down the magazine she was loading.

Next to her was Sergeant Swiftwing, a taller but similarly thin griffon with a gray coat and feathers with light blue speckles. He glanced up and nodded at us before looking down the iron sights of the rifle he was servicing. “Welcome back. You two have fun?”

I wasn't in much of a mood for jokes, but Ida came to my rescue. She slid her rifle off and propped it in the corner before facing them. “Oh, yeah, actually. Kasimir caught a slave sneaking around in the Stirrup Business Park. Apprehended her without anybody getting hurt.” She cut me a small smile.

“No kidding? I hear ya, new guy!” Carmelita said, giving me a playful punch to the shoulder. She poked the griffon next to her. “Hey, Serge-ent, did you hear that? I can't wait to see Heidi's face when she finds out about it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I told you not to call me that. You'll have Kasimir here doing it too. Anyway...” He set his rifle on the table. “...that's great to hear. I'm glad you're getting the hang of all of this so fast. The lieutenant will be pleased too. She's usually not very fast to warm up to recruits.”

“She's actually a bitch,” Carmelita added, smiling pleasantly.

There was a brief exchange of displeased looks between the two griffons at the table. Sergeant Swiftwing broke the silence with, “Have you met her yet?”

I finished removing my breastplate and set it in the corner next to the growing pile of gear. “Uh, yeah. Briefly two days ago when I was given my assignment here. She seemed alright to me.”

“You must not have talked to her long then.” Carmelita grabbed another magazine and started snapping bullets into it.

Serge grunted. “Either way, you'll get to meet her in a little while. She's coming by in about an hour and a half for inspections. Make sure your gear is prepped and ready and that you're presentable by then.” He gestured to a pair of bowls behind him on a shelf. “Oh, and by the way, you missed lunch but we saved you some.”

Ida's face lit up and she grabbed both bowls before sinking into a seat across from them. “Great, thanks. I'm starving.” She slid one over to an empty seat and slapped the chair for me to join them. “Smells like radigator? Been having that a lot lately. Beats nothing though, that's for sure.”

It took me a minute more to finish stripping out of my armor, and I almost had to peel the undersuit off of my damp feathers and fur. I dropped it atop my pile and plopped into the chair next to Ida, reflecting on what Serge said the day before. I might get used to the heat eventually, but it couldn't come soon enough. “Uh, are inspections out of uniform or what?” I asked, realizing that I might not should have stripped so soon. Then again only Ida was still wearing anything.

Serge retrieved his rifle and worked the action. “Out of uniform. It's kind of informal and mostly a check to make sure we've all got our stuff and that it's being maintained. Isaac and Leigh won't even be here for it.”

“Yeah, what's with that?” Carmelita asked.

He shrugged. “The schedule's been screwed for months now. I don't think things are going to get back in line for a while yet, but Lieutenant Blackfeathers told me there would be some changes coming soon to help with that.”

“Pfft. Like she doesn't change stuff constantly just for the fun of it.”

I left them to their conversation and prodded the bowl of goopy food. It was cold and didn't look too readily identifiable, but I trusted Ida's comment that there was radigator in it somewhere. The impression I was getting wasn't doing a whole lot for my appetite, which was still quite well suppressed by the sight of a mare so starved she looked like she could die any day now, not to mention what passed as 'food' to her, but Ida had reiterated enough times that I should eat and sleep when I could. I cautiously inserted the spoon of stew in my mouth and confirmed it lacked much flavor other than generic meat. Palatable, but just. Speaking of sleep though... “Guess I'll wait until after inspections to take that nap.”

Ida turned up her bowl to down the last drops of 'gravy' and set it down with a satisfied sigh. “You could get an hour or so if you went now. I'll get you up in time to get ready.” She started unclasping her armor and said, “I'll move your gear out of the way.”

“Ohh, when you going to start treating me like that, Ida?” Carmelita asked. The bigger griffoness shrugged it off and went back to removing her armor.

Serge cocked his head toward the open door leading to the cots in the back of the car. “Go on and get what sleep you can if you want. Half an hour to get your gear in order should be plenty.” He glanced at Ida, then back to me. “Just make sure you get it ready in time. The lieutenant is pretty strict and you need to learn that just as much as anything else.”

Message loud and clear, sergeant. “Understood.” I finished my stew with a bit more manners and stifled a yawn. Waking up in an hour was going to suck, but one hour was better than no hours.

“Hey, Kaz, relax. No need to sound so serious. 'Understood.' Just say, 'Got it, serge-ent!'” Carmelita grinned.

“Lita, if you call me that in front of the lieutenant, I swear... you'll be pulling double shifts for a month.”

“Got it, serge-ent.” She beamed at me. “Sleep well!”

“Thanks...” I made my way into the back and slid the door mostly closed behind me, allowing a sliver of light to shine through the crack and pick out enough details that I could find my cot with my night vision. I hadn't done a very good job of making it up that morning when Ida dragged me out of it, but that wouldn't matter in a few moments anyway. My few personal belongings were scattered beneath it: a stack of books I'd thumbed through so many times the corners were frayed and a bag I couldn't even remember what was contained within it anymore. I'd have to get those put away somewhere when I got up, but for the moment all I cared about was flopping down onto the firm mattress. At that point even a cement slab would have felt comfortable.

“Hey Lita, maybe you should lighten up a bit?” Ida's voice echoed faintly into the room.

“Whaaat? I am. Just trying to make the new guy feel at home.”

“I think you're just laying it on a teensy bit thick there is all.”

“Ugh... okay, okay. But after Heidi gets done with him he'll need it.”

I rolled over to face the wall and tried to block it out. Whatever. History had taught me that a couple of people talking in the next room wasn't going to have much impact on whether I could get to sleep or not. Let them talk. Heck, they could talk about my butt for all I cared at that point.

“...besides, have you seen how cute he is? Especially after squeezing out of that armor just now? How could I resist?”

Dammit.

“Kaz! Kaz, get up, you were supposed to be up ten minutes ago!”

I rolled over and blinked to find Ida staring down at me. “What?”

“I woke you up ten minutes ago and you went back to sleep. Come on, the lieutenant will be here in fifteen minutes!”

“Oh. Oh, shit!” I rolled off the cot and nearly onto her claws as she danced back. “Sorry. Uh...” Great. Where to start? Could I possibly get ready by then?

“It's okay, you've still got time. I went ahead and reloaded the shots you spent this morning for you. Just don't tell Serge, okay?”

I nodded and pulled myself up with the help of the metal bed frame. “Right. Thanks. Uh, where is he?”

“Went to get the lieutenant. Come on, no time to dally.” She patted my cot. “Just get this straight and get your gear laid out like we did.”

All of the beds in the room but mine were made up and pristine, but three had sets of armor and weapons laid out at their sides or their feet. Seeing so many components of armor set out like that really put into perspective just how much we lugged around in the air, but more importantly how many pieces I had to wipe down and get into place! “Okay, right. Thanks again.”

“Anytime. If you need me I'll be outside.”

With that she left me to my task. On further inspection, no pun intended, I had more than enough time to get ready. Making my cot took only a few moments, spartan as it was, and I swept my personal junk into my footlocker like everyone else had sensibly done long ago. That just left my armor and gun to wipe down and clean. I'd never have time to tear it down and get it pristine like the sergeant, but this would have to do. Now, where was that rag...

I was done with my armor and was just getting ready to clean the barrel of my rifle when I heard talons clattering against thin metal flooring in the next room. Great, had it been fifteen minutes already? I was so close!

“Everyone fall in and prepare for inspection,” Serge announced. Fall in where? I jumped up and propped my rifle against my cot like the others had and started for the door when I was met by Ida and Carmelita. They stood at attention next to their beds and stared straight ahead with stoic expressions. I immediately did the same, just as Serge stepped inside. “The squad is ready for inspection, ma'am.”

A coal black griffoness strutted in after him. Blackfeathers was certainly an appropriate name. Her everything was black: feathers, fur, beak, legs, claws and even her officer's uniform. Only her piercing yellow eyes weren't sucking in the overbearing white of the gem lights in the upper corners of the room. “Thank you, sergeant.” I snapped my eyes back to the wall ahead of me. That's what I was supposed to do, right?

To my side I could hear her claws scraping against metal as she made her rounds in the room. She brought up something about the two who were missing and had a short exchange with Serge about it, but distressingly quickly I found her standing next to me. A hundred things I could have done better or gone over a second time jumped to mind, but it was too late then. That nap was just getting good and if I'd only woken up when I was supposed to...

“You're the new hire, aren't you? What's your name, soldier?”

She was either very busy or didn't pay attention to details, and I had a pretty good hunch which it was. “Private Kasimir Longtalons, ma'am.” I kept my eyes glued on the wall.

“I hear you captured an errant slave this morning. What happened? Short version, please.”

Oh boy. “Private Whiptail and I were patrolling the Stirrup Business Park. At 0930 hours I spotted a mare hiding in an office building. I broke formation and pursued her before apprehending her in a back alley. Her manager arrived moments later to take her into custody.”

“You should listen to your partner. Keep breaking off like that and you'll be dead. Look at me.” I really didn't want to. I'd had a rough day already, did she really need to chew me out over that after I'd heard the lecture twice? Nevertheless, I complied. She was half a head shorter than me but those emotionless eyes paralyzed me all the same. “Good work anyway. Learn from your mistakes but keep it up.”

“Y-yes ma'am.” Wow, that was a relief! I didn't care about the rest of the inspection at that point. What could go wrong?

She picked up my rifle and stepped back in front of me. Really? Yes, really. She pulled the action back, confirmed it wasn't loaded, then stuck a finger inside. “Clean your weapon completely next time,” she said after rubbing two claws together. How she saw any powder residue on those black hands of hers I'll never know, but I kept silent and looked ahead. She propped the gun back against the bed. “Private Longtalons, you were brought on as platoon medic to replace Private Ripbeak, were you not?”

A medic with the name Ripbeak? Yikes, I had to ask about that later. For now... “Yes ma'am, that's correct.”

She stopped in front of me again, letting her flowing uniform settle. “Why have you not set out your medical kit for inspection?”

“It hasn't been issued to me yet, ma'am.”

“Sergeant, is this true?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She nodded slowly. “Private, it's your responsibility to ensure that you have all of your equipment. Speak with the quartermaster to get this resolved immediately.” Before I could say anything she wheeled on the spot and strode back to the door. Facing us, she said, “At ease. Pending remediation of the deficiencies noted, this inspection is complete. I will follow through with Sergeant Swiftwing to ensure all matters have been resolved. Dismissed.” She turned again and left without another word.

Awkward silence reigned in the barracks as talons scratching metal faded in the adjoining room. A heavy metal door shut and everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. I was still shaking a little inside, but that wasn't so bad.

“Ho-lee-shit,” Carmelita blurted out. All eyes settled on her and she grinned at me. “I didn't think I'd ever see it, but I think she likes you, Kaz.”

“Wh-huh?” Seriously? I was the only one she corrected on anything.

“Pshh, yeah. Hey, you all remember that time I lost that grenade? I thought she was going to make me dig through every trash pile in the city to find it. She musta yelled for five minutes straight! I thought she was gonna stroke out right there.” She slapped her hands together and pointed at the floor. “Good thing Nadine was here.”

Serge started picking up his gear. “Lita, that was a grenade. Imagine if one of the slaves found it?”

“Like they'd know how to use it,” she said with a shrug. “Found it under the bed right after she left anyway. No biggie.”

Uh huh. Losing a grenade seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to get angry about. All in all Lieutenant Blackfeathers seemed pretty sensible to me. I'd just have to pay a bit more attention to detail.

Ida chuckled. “Forgetting that incident, yeah, she did seem a bit more lenient today. Guess you caught her in a good mood. I'd keep what she said in mind though, if I were you.”

“Yeah, don't worry. I'd rather not see her angry,” I said, following everyone's example and moving my equipment to my locker.

“You do not,” Carmelita agreed. She slammed her footlocker closed and stretched. “I'm going for a smoke. Anyone want to join me?”

Ida agreed and filed out behind her. Serge kept arranging things in his locker and said, “No thanks. Got some things to attend to.” He fiddled with the latch and gave it a thump, then shut the lid. “Have you spoken with Quartermaster Bladewind before?” he asked me.

“We met briefly for me to get my armor and gun.”

“Alright good. You'll need to see him again to get your medical kit and supplies. You can take care of it in the morning before you head out. If he's not there someone will be, and if they give you crap just threaten them with the lieutenant.”

I propped myself up on my locker and nodded. Oh how bad I wanted to yawn right then, but I managed to keep it inside. “Yes sir. I'll do that first thing when I get up.”

He smirked. “Great. If you smoke I'm sure Lita would like more company. Otherwise, head back to bed. It'll be another early morning.” He moved to leave, but caught himself. “Oh, and Lita's crazy, but she's right about one thing. You can ease back on the formalities when the lieutenant isn't around. Don't call me sir, please. Sergeant or sarge if you must, but really, Serge is fine. Just not Serge-ent, okay?”

“Heh, right. Sorry.”

“No harm done.” He stopped at the exit for yet another moment to speak. “Oh, and by the way, Lita's full of bad advice. Stick close to Ida. She'll keep you straight. Or Leigh. Isaac's pretty straight too but he tends to keep to himself.” And with that, he thumped the wall once, waved and disappeared.

A smoke did sound pretty great right about then, but really I was too sleepy to care. I could smoke any time. I hit the switch on the wall, which killed the lights with a spluttering flicker, then flopped onto my cot. It was a terrible shame I'd just made it up so neat and pretty too.

Starting Level 3 - You've been around the block a time or two, so you can shoot a gun mostly straight and patch up a radroach bite.

Perks

Gun Nut - +5 to Firearms and Mechanics.

Wasteland Surgeon - You can heal crippled limbs without a doctor's bag. You also gain +2% chance to land critical hits against mundane living targets.