I never did find out what happened to the raiders that we captured. I know that all of the wounded, including the one I shot in the ear canal and the one with the shattered hip, survived long enough for the recovery team to show up and drag them off to Fillydelphia. It would have made a lot more sense to take them back to the air force base first for treatment and to be stabilized, but evidently whoever was in charge decided that Talon resources only extended as far as putting bullets, or in this case tranquilizer darts, in victims and nothing more.

It was probably for the best, since I didn't want to see them again. Whether they lived or died, regardless of where they were sent afterward and in what condition, the answers couldn't have been good ones. I wanted to be done with it, and I was.

With that business behind us, things mercifully settled down a lot for a while. We spent the next month doing little more than flying around the base on patrols, or if we were unlucky, manning the various gun emplacements scattered around. Or, well, Lita said we were lucky to be able to just sit around and watch for trouble that would never come while fondling heavy weaponry, but I much preferred to keep moving. I was much less likely to fall asleep that way, and that's almost all I wanted to do while the Med-X withdrawal symptoms continued to taper off much more slowly than I expected and hoped for. I could have sworn that it took me at least a full month before the oscillations between haze, malaise, weariness and queasiness finally abated entirely. Good riddance, and the next time I had to have surgery, I'd do it without pain killers, thank you very much…

In truth, I'm not sure how long it was before something interesting happened. More than a month, I'm pretty sure, but when you're doing something that monotonous without a calendar to check, the days really blur and smudge together.

But when something interesting did happen, I almost fell out of my chair. Figuratively, since I was laying on my cot and trying to get some sleep between shifts when Serge stepped into the room and cleared his throat for an announcement. “I've got good news, everyone. We're up for leave next week.”

Leigh asked what I was getting ready to, saying, “Wait, really? While we're on field duty?”

“Hey, don't question it!” Lita butted in.

“Yes, it's correct,” Serge assured them. “Higher ups decided it was causing too much scheduling problems to defer it until the platoon traded back to city watch, so we're taking leave when we're actually scheduled for it for a change.”

“Hot damn. Just when I that I was going to literally go insane cooped up in this stupid bird cage,” Lita quipped.

I rolled over and propped up on one arm. “Hey, sergeant, is that for everyone, or...”

He nodded once. “The whole squad goes inactive at the same time. Yes, including you. We go off duty first thing next week. You've got a week to go wherever and do whatever you want, but you've got to be back here before midnight one week from then. Trust me, you do not want to be late.”

Carmelita half-chuckled. “And boy, don't even think about not coming back. Last year, we had a girl go AWOL and a squad had to go out to find her. They found her hiding out in Rivet City, and when they dragged her back Freija had her doing hard labor for months. Lucky her, I'm pretty sure Heidi would have had her shot.”

Serge groaned lightly. “Right, so… not going to say you were thinking it, Kaz, but just don't. Do not. Please.”

“Don't worry,” I assured him. Not going to say I was thinking it, but I kind of was. I didn't need either of them to tell me what I already expected though, so it was just a fleeting moment of hopeful weakness. Still, more than anything I was shocked that I was being given any leave. Did Heidi forget what I did? Or did my time in the crater make up for it? I didn't really care. I just hoped we got to leave before someone came to the conclusion that I shouldn't be gone. The beginning of the week couldn't come soon enough.

Lita clasped her claws together. “Oh, this is great. The two newbies can come on the fishing trip with us! We are still doing that, right? It'll be great, I'm telling you. Last time, Ike got to wrestle with a radigator, and we got to eat radigator tail for days after that. Of course, a mirelurk chewed up my… uh, whatever you call that bit of armor that fits over your hip-”

“Tasset. Or flanchard, depending on if you ask a pony. Or maybe crupper,” Leigh interrupted.

“-right, that bit that fits over your hip. Anyway, never got a replacement, but I boiled that sucker alive and ate his claws in front of his buddies. Damn good eating too. Ida said that we had to be careful about it because of the rads, but I'm fine.”

Amalia sat up from her cot. “Sounds good to me. I didn't have any other plans.”

“What about you, Kaz? You in?”

I tried to do some fast math in my head. It had been long enough that I couldn't remember exactly how long it took me to fly here from Oatsfield, but that was where I wanted to go. I definitely had plans. But I was pretty sure it took two days at most. So, that was four days of travel. Add in a buffer day for inevitable disaster that would keep me from getting back here on time, and that left two days to spend with papa. Or two days minus however much time this little side trip took.

“How far is it? I had some family I wanted to visit, and it won't leave me with a whole lot of time...”

Lita looked genuinely surprised. Everyone did. “Uh, I don't know. Takes the better part of the day to get there from here, I guess. It's to the southwest, a kind of nasty bog near a kind of nasty looking forest that some people call Hollow Shade. I've heard that some of the other squads get together and head down past Baltimare to the Hayseed Swamps, but fuck that. You've barely got any time to stay by the time you get down there.”

“Southwest is good, that's roughly the direction I needed to go anyway.” I shrugged. “Sure, I'll come. I'll need to leave tomorrow though. Or, err, the next day, I mean. After Ike wrestles the local megafauna, anyway.”

The big orange griffon made a scratchy chuckle and grinned.

“It's a plan then!” Lita started prattling on and listing off things we'd need and stuff we could do, but I guessed I'd miss most of it. I'd like to participate in one of these little moments with everyone else so they might not reconsider if I was worth keeping around, but seeing my father again was much more important to me than that. Sorry.

“Oh, hey, Kaz, can you get some wire or stitching or something from the hospital the next time you're there? We kind of left all of our fishing gear back at Fillydelphia and I don't want to have to fly all the way back just for that.”

Yeah, this was going to be really fun…

The beginning of the week came faster than I expected, and per everyone's excitement we left literally the minute we were allowed to. That is, midnight. It was dark, chilly and windy, but the sensation of freedom, even if temporary, was easily enough to ignore all of that.

We lifted off from the landing pad with only the minimum of our Talon gear strapped to our backs and a great excess of random junk that Lita was convinced would serve as serviceable fishing poles and lines. For my part, I only brought my pistol and a single magazine of ammo with me. Serge made it clear that we were responsible for anything lost while we were off duty, and I didn't want to risk losing any of my armor, medical kit or anything of the sort. Losing the pistol would suck pretty badly, but I figured I needed something with me in case I ran into trouble somewhere. Or had to shoot a mirelurk. Or something.

In any case, the flight was as long as Carmelita hinted it would be. It took until the middle of the day for the first hints of the forest to appear at the horizon, and until early that afternoon before we were close enough to pick out the streams fanning out from the river descending from the mountains.

Even from high up, I could tell why it got such an ominous name.

Hollow Shade was filled with trees that hadn't quite died from the balefire bombs or residual radiation. Instead, they were twisted into unnatural shapes, forking multiple times or even twisting around to begin growing sideways or downward. The branches were littered with sparse dark leaves, or sheets of moss that obscured the ground below. What wasn't hidden by the trees was covered in a thin fog that hung close to the ground.

This was a vacation spot? Eh, sure. It beat Fillydelphia in every way imaginable.

We circled around for a bit before Serge pointed out a clearing in what appeared to be one of the less creepy sections of the forest. A little apprehension rose in my throat on the descent, but despite my darkest fears we touched down in a fairly clear and clean spot on the bank of a small natural pond. There were a lot of knobby tree roots protruding from the ground everywhere, but it looked like there would be space to set up some tents.

“What did I tell you? Choice spot, huh?” Lita asked. She stretched and trotted over to the pond. “Nobody else comes here, so we've got the whole place to ourselves.” She indicated a vague spot by the water. “We can set up some lines there and get started on a fire. It'll be just like being part of the Flock, right Serge-ent?”

Serge groaned. “Don't say it.”

“I already did!”

I was pretty sure I'd seen something in some magazines about that. “The Flock? You mean, that prewar thing that griffawns would join to learn about wilderness survival and all of that?”

“Don't say it, Lita.”

She ignored him and said, “Yep, Serge here used to run a flock. Back before he was a big mean Talon.”

“I tried to,” he corrected her. “It was pretty hard to get anyone to join, so the whole idea fizzled out. Might have been easier if we had pegasi to join too. Or, heck any ponies. But, I guess there just weren't enough kids around at all.”

That was kind of sad, really. He could have been doing something really nice like that, and here he was helping a megalomaniac slave driver keep his empire together. Ugh, throwing stones in glass houses, so I opted not to point it out.

“Right, well, let's get camp set up,” he said, switching topics before anyone else could take up the lead. “Leigh and Ike, check the perimeter and make sure there isn't anything particularly big and nasty around. I'd rather not be caught by surprise if a mirelurk or radigator wanders up into camp. Kaz and Amalia, set up the tents. Lita, come with me and we'll get a fire started.”

Everyone set off to their assigned tasks, right as Serge held up a claw. “Oh, and you two?” He pointed at me and Amy. “New guys and girls get first watch. Plus you're leaving tomorrow, right? Don't want you skipping out of here without pulling your shift.”

“Right,” I confirmed. And the sooner, the better. Maybe early in the morning.

“Good enough.” Serge wheeled on the yellow griffoness dipping her claws in the murky water. “And Lita? You're picking up his next shift in addition to yours.”

“What? C'mon, what did I do?”

He led her off toward the nearest pile of fallen branches. “Because I said don't say it and you said it anyway, that's what. Remember that next time.”

I doubted she would, but more power to him for trying. I shrugged to Amy and started laying out the bedrolls that Isaac dumped on the ground. Those bedrolls looked pretty inviting, come to think of it, especially since I was apparently going to be up all night…

Alas, while I had the foresight to try sleeping early, I didn't really have an opportunity. By the time we got our camp set up, Carmelita was chomping at the proverbial bit to get to fishing, and insisted that I join in before I left the next day.

I'd actually never been fishing before in my life, and didn't expect to catch anything as a result, but I was pleasantly surprised when I got a bite. We'd settled down on the edge of the stream feeding the pond and stuck the tree branches we were pretended were suitable fishing poles into the ground, leaving the lures to float on their own in the gently flowing water. Almost as soon as I'd set mine and plopped down, something grabbed the lure and almost pulled the pole into the water before I could grab it.

The results weren't spectacular. It was a small fish, maybe weighing half a kilogram or so, but I have to admit I felt a little proud to have actually caught one, much less the first one of the day.

We spent the next few hours chatting a little, but mostly sipping at a few of the beers that they'd stashed in a crate nearby the last time they were out here. It wasn't enough to get drunk by a long shot, but having a little buzz definitely helped to kill some of the boredom of watching water drift by, punctuated by the occasional excitement of someone getting a nibble on their line. At least no gators or giant mutant crabs turned up to spoil the fun.

That first fish turned out to be the first, last and only one I caught in the end, but that was okay. Serge must have caught five alone, and between the lot of us we had plenty to roast over the campfire that night before it was time to turn in. Knowing that I had to stay up and watch for deadly critters tempered the meal a little, but even still the taste of the freshly roasted and smoked fish was probably the best thing I'd eaten in many months. The meat almost melted in my mouth, and the bones were so soft I just ate them along with it. Which was good, since these fish might as well have been snakes for all the ribs and bones in them.

But, soon enough, night came and everyone hit the sack, save Amy and myself. We found ourselves sitting at the edge of the stream again, watching the water trickle by in the moon light and wishing we had more beer to help the time pass quickly. At least the weather was nice. It was kind of hot and humid that afternoon, but by nightfall it was temperate and surprisingly comfortable.

At some indeterminate point during the night, Amy broke the silence by asking, “So, heading back home in the morning, huh?”

“Yep.”

“You have a lot of family to see?”

Had I ever discussed this with her before? If so, maybe it was long enough ago that we'd both forgotten. I remembered her telling me something about her having a sister named Valerie, anyway. “Just my father. Jakob Longtalons.” Not that the name meant anything to her.

“Oh. Still, must be nice, I guess. How far away does he live?”

“From here? I'm not actually sure. I have to hope I can even find the way back to Oatsfield, since I've never been here before. I think I can make it in a day or so at worst. Which is for the best, since I'd rather not have to take any of this camping gear with me.” It might take two, but I could tolerate sleeping on a cloud one night if I had to.

She cocked her head. “It's not that heavy...”

“No, no, I'd just rather not lose it and be accountable for it. There's a few reasons I left my gear back at base.”

She shrugged. “I doubt a sleeping bag is worth all that much to Talon Company, so I'd take it on the very small chance something happened.” Something splashed in the water, drawing both of our attention for a moment. After she was confident it wasn't dangerous, she asked, “So, you said a few reasons. Why else other than potentially losing it?”

“My armor is covered in Talon Company markings, for one thing. I'd rather not...” Wait a second, we'd had an argument about this before already. Didn't need to do that again.

“You'd rather not what?” she pressed.

Dammit. Okay. “...I'd rather my father didn't see it. He doesn't know I work for Talon Company and I'd rather keep it that way.”

Amy stared me down for a few long seconds. “Right. Yeah, I remember now. Back with the caravan at base.”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to even bring it up.”

She went back to watching the stream. “Forget it. I know we're not going to see eye-to-eye on that. You're a civilian at heart, and I'm not. But, I do think I was wrong before.”

Oh, really? “About what?”

She shrugged again. “You do take this all seriously. After I heard that, I figured you were just in this for the bits and didn't care one way or another what happened on any assignments. Our trip to the stable didn't exactly help with that.” Before I could interject, she raised a single talon. “But, I get it now. You just see everything as a medic or civilian would. Just trying to do as little harm as possible, right? On our last assignment to round up those raiders, you did everything the sergeant asked. You were sloppy on some points, but you did what he said.”

“Thanks. I think...”

“I talked with some of the others about it, and they said all said the same thing. The last medic, Nadine, was the same way. It's not about defying authority or orders. It's just… something you can't not do, I guess. Trying to help people.”

This was taking a weird and somewhat stilted direction in the conversation, but sure, I guess?

Amy shrugged yet again. “I don't know what I'm trying to say here. I guess I just get it now. You've still got to learn to do what the sergeant says, regardless of why, but I guess I can kind of respect putting yourself at risk to help someone.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Silence fell for a little while again. I watched a small hermit crab scuttle along the stream banks and out of sight under a pile of leaves.

“Anyway. Uh, have fun with your family. I'm sure he misses you.”

That caught me a little by surprise, so I just fumbled with my response. “Uh, thanks. And I hope you have fun with the others this week.” Oh, wait a second. “And I hope you get to see Valerie again soon. Maybe when we get switched back to Fillydelphia.”

Now it was her turn to be surprised. Maybe she figured I'd forgotten. “Thanks. Yeah, I hope so.”

The night settled in again, complete with the sounds of frogs croaking in the distance and bugs of some variety or another chirping or clicking in the treetops. But, just as I was afraid I'd die of boredom, something huge shifted beyond the trees ahead. Amy and I both jumped up and reached for our weapons. Whatever it was, I was convinced my pistol would only inform it of my location instead of doing any harm, so I hoped it didn't notice us or care…

Amy traced her rifle along the horizon, but with all of the trees is was pretty impossible to see very far. I caught the glint of metal reflecting moonlight as it moved between trees, but didn't get a good look at what it was. It was too tall to have been anyone in armor, and I didn't think there would be any robots out here of all places.

“Holy… shit...” Amy whispered as it dragged its way out of the thicket of trees and onto the bank of the pond.

There sat a hermit crab so large it had a pony goddess-damned mobile home for a shell. It studied us for a few moments, then turned about and went on its merry way.

I slowly lowered my pistol and thanked our lucky stars it wasn't aggressive. Amy might have been able to stop it before it got too close, but I wasn't keen on finding out. For sure, my pistol would have only been a gentle poke against a shell that thick bolstered by aluminum siding.

“So much for a boring night,” I quipped.

Amy grimaced and settled back down on the bank, but didn't put her gun down.

Yep, this was going to be a long night…

Sure enough, it felt like the entirety of my leave passed before the sun finally began rising over the horizon. In this forsaken bog it looked even more sickly and tired than usual, fighting to shine through the ever present cloud cover overhead as well as the foggy murk that blanketed everything. With it came a gradual rise in the temperature too, which was about the only thing I wasn't looking forward to. It was pretty pleasant that night, but was going to get quite muggy as the day wore on.

In any case, I couldn't be happier when the others started stirring and got out of their tents. Amy and I didn't see any more giant crustaceans through the night, but I heard enough inexplicable noises that I was ready for someone else to be up and watching. Not to mention I was getting to the point of being sleepy enough that I was dizzy, and all I wanted to do was find a vacant spot in a tent and pass out for a while.

It would mean leaving later, but I was not going to try flying back to Oatsfield drunkenly tired like this. I'd probably land somewhere to take a leak and fall asleep, only to get eaten by hellhounds.

So, I didn't. I devoured a small piece of fish leftover from the night before, bid everyone goodnight and slept most of the rest of the day away. When I finally woke back up, covered in sweat from the humidity, I found everyone else, including Amy, lazing around the campfire and sipping at a few more of those warm beers while watching a pot of giant mutant crab limbs boil.

“Mornin', sunshine. Feeling better?” Lita asked as I wandered over.

“Yeah, much. Guess I should be going soon though.”

Leigh set down the pad she was drawing or writing in and asked, “You don't want to stay for the mirelurk bisque?”

“Uh, maybe. How long's it going to take?” I raised a claw and pointed at the pot. “Wait, did you shoot these just now?”

“Yeah, well, they weren't going to climb into the pot themselves,” Lita joked. “I dunno, might take half an hour or so. That won't kill you to wait for.”

Right, if I didn't wake up to someone shooting crabs, I definitely didn't need to fly off that morning. But, she was right, so I opted to wait until I got one last meal before setting off.

I set the crab shell I'd been using for a bowl down onto the mossy ground and let out a satisfied sigh. It was a little overcooked and rubbery, meaning it wasn't as good as the fish, but still well worth waiting for. Good enough I wished I could carry some with me on my trip, but I'd have to settle for the bread I'd stashed away for just this purpose. Bland, but good enough to last me.

“Thanks everyone, but I really should get going now. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

“Don't worry, we'll wait for you to get back before tackling crabzilla,” Lita said.

Amy nodded. “Take care, Kasimir.”

“See you when you get back,” Leigh replied.

“Be safe,” Serge said. “Oh, and remember, do not be late coming back. Please, plucked blood feathers, don't be late.”

No need to say it a hundredth time, sarge. I got up and grabbed my pack of meager supplies. “I know, I know. I'll be back in time, I promise. Don't wait up on me here, since I'll probably just return back to base.”

Everyone said goodbye one more time, and I lifted off into the air to get my bearings. The sticky, humid air felt like it dissipated beneath me abruptly as I passed the tree tops, and not a moment too soon. I spun around in a slow circle to get the lay of the land and cocked a small frown. This had been in the right direction, but only vaguely. I'd probably have to fly much higher to get a feel for the landmarks, and just hope I recognized enough of them to find my way.

The mountain range over past the trees looked familiar… but from this angle what did I know?

I was going to be pissed if I failed to get back in time because I followed everyone else out to this stupid swamp.

Directions were never really my thing, but I had a hazy map of the area in my head and guessed I was heading south. The sun setting to my right confirmed that, and if true, that meant I was going the right way. Oatsfield should have been west of Fillydelphia, and we'd flown northwest to get to Hollow Shade. I had to be going the right way.

It just sucked that there were almost no landmarks to be had between here and there, and that I was flying at night and thus having a bit of trouble making out what was around in the first place. Once I was past the Foal Mountains, the landscape was little more than blasted plains littered with the occasional burnt out ruins of small settlements, and even the barns and small farms here and there had fallen into disrepair or collapsed despite being missed by direct balefire missile impacts.

My spirits rose a little early the next morning when I came across the glint of tarnished metal stretching across the landscape below me. Train tracks! I had no idea what the train route's name was, but I knew that the tracks passed through Oatsfield, and that I could follow them all of the way back.

As groggy as I was, I had to stop and think about which way to go. I was pretty sure I needed to go right, but if I got it wrong I'd waste a day or more of flying around like an idiot and probably run out of time.

For the moment, it didn't matter. I was exhausted, sleepy and hungry, so I had to call it quits. I flew up high enough to penetrate the cloud cover and flopped down on the inviting, pillowy texture it afforded. If I was supremely unlucky an Enclave patrol might fly over, notice me and turn me to dust with a laser rifle, but I was kind of too tired to care and definitely not sleeping on the ground where at best a group of slavers might tie me up and drag me off somewhere. As poetically ironic as that would be, it was more likely a hellhound would pop up and gobble me up for dinner, so forget it. Sleeping on a cloud today.

I did burrow down into it a little to at least give me a little cover from prying eyes above, but not deep enough that I risked falling out of the bottom. I'd be fine.

As much as I expected that line of thought to come back and bite me in the butt, I woke up late the next afternoon, alive and unmolested. I was still a little groggy and sore from the trip, but didn't want to waste any more time than I had to. I scarfed down the last of my trail rations, grabbed my pack and pushed through the clouds to get back on my journey.

Ah, right, train tracks. Which way to go again?

I studied the problem for a few moments before noticing the Foal Mountains far off in the distance. Right, err, left. Left. That was the way I needed to go. I swallowed my apprehension and beat my wings to start back that way, staying close to the bottom of the clouds while following the railroad back home. This high up, nobody should notice me, or be able to do anything about it even if they wanted to.

A few hours later, my heart rose into my throat with a little thrill at the sight of a small town rising over the horizon. I could even pick out the husks of the prewar windmills standing off alone to the east.

I was home!

Despite my worst fears, Oatsfield didn't look like it had changed very much since I left. Even from far off I began making out people moving around the fields surrounding the town that gave it its name. Ponies pulled plows in the sandy soil, dragging long and straight parallel lines that they'd come back to and plant with wheat or corn. Here and there the odd pony, mostly unicorns, stood watch with rifles or shotguns of a dozen varieties. The fields might not produce very much anymore, but it was still enough to be worth the trouble of kicking everyone out if someone had the weapons and manpower to try. The guards made it enough trouble that so far as I'd ever lived there, nobody had ever tried. Raiders didn't have the patience to grow their own food, I guess, and killing half of the farmers in a takeover would defeat the point. Somewhat.

I stopped pondering the academics of conquering a farming town and flew straight over the fields on my descent toward Main Street, which ran alongside the railroad and housed the burnt out and collapsed train station at the center of town.

The streets were unsurprisingly dead at this hour. The sun had all but set, and all but the most determined ponies out in the fields had turned in for the night. That left me standing alone at the crossroads beside the train station, staring off into empty streets and wondering what I did next. I could and probably should go straight home, but now that I was here, I was beginning to second guess it all. If Liese had told papa about Talon Company, or if he'd figured it out some other way, I couldn't face him. It would be crushing to know that, more than likely, this would be the last time I'd see him, and having that be the last thing we talked about. But if I didn't talk to him, it would be even worse.

Right, time to be a grown up and just get on with it.

I turned right and trudged along the cracked and broken asphalt on my way toward Bareback Street, taking in the sights as I went. The general store was still where it should have been, with the lights on and a couple of foals I didn't remember the names of sweeping the front porch. The shop next to it had its lights on too, which I'd never seen before. Someone, a donkey mare from the looks of it, was pulling rotten boards from the walls inside, and it looked like she'd already gotten to the exterior. Renovations or demolitions? I'd have to ask about that.

Bareback Street didn't appear to have changed at all. I passed three houses with their lights on, and a single old stallion sleeping on his porch. Pumpkin Jam, I thought it was, but in the dim afternoon lighting I couldn't be too sure.

Just ahead was my destination: a small wooden home in danger of collapsing ever since we moved into it that had only grown more worn and rickety over the years. The last shutter on the front windows had apparently broken loose during my absence, and another dozen shingles were missing. A real shame. The few bits I'd brought with me after getting paid wouldn't begin to cover any of the repairs this place needed. At best I'd have to hope they could cover papa's medicine for a while longer.

I took a deep breath and ascended the wooden steps up to the porch, each groaning or popping under my weight. Not much was stopping me from just going in, especially since the door's lock didn't work anymore, but I decided to do this the right way, raised my claw to the darkened and splintering wooden door and knocked hard three times.

My heart sank a little when there was no response. Was I too late? Liese said she'd done something to get him more medicine when she was last here, but that had still been many months ago. If she was even telling me the truth. Maybe I was too late, and-

The floor inside cracked and groaned from someone shifting, and the door popped open with a forceful tug. “Yes?” a familiar voice croaked.

We stared at each other for a few, long seconds, neither knowing quite what to say. Papa had looked old for as long as I could remember, but if possible it looked like he'd aged ten years since I was gone. His gray feathers were fraying at the ends and had all but turned white. His eyes looked sunken and weary beyond description. He raised a single black claw, covered in nicked scales and scutes. “Kaz?”

I offered a tiny, nervous smile. “Hi, papa.”

He lit up like foal on Hearth's Warming Eve. “Kaz! Kaz, son, it's really you.” He raised both claws as if to hug me, but transitioned into an awkward wave inside. “Come in, come in. Please. I had no idea you were coming. I was just fixing dinner, and I'll have to get some more for you. You must have been on the road for ages to get here.”

“It wasn't that long,” I lied, following him inside. And food sounded good, but if he was half as destitute as I expected, I wasn't about to take any that he had left. “What were you fixing? I was thinking I could probably go get something for both of us from the store.”

“Escargot,” he answered on his way back to the kitchen. He dodged a new bucket for catching roof leaks and chuckled. “Snail sounds better when you use fancy talk for it.”

Snails? Eh… I guess I was hungry enough for it if he had enough to go around. I could just pick something up for us the next day.

The living room looked like a proverbial bomb had gone off in it. Half a dozen guns, most of them SMGs of some kind, were disassembled and laying in their constituent pieces on shop rags scattered across the floor and the legless coffee table in the center of the room. He must have been able to find some work still if he was fixing someone's guns, so that was a good sign. I dodged the water bucket and trailed after him. “So, how have you been getting along?”

In the kitchen, papa was checking over some eggs in a basket. “Was thinking I could turn these into omelets. Tulip Tips gave me a dozen eggs yesterday, and it'll make things go further. What do you say?”

Adding eggs would only help to disguise the snail flavor, so yes, please. “That sounds good to me, but have a seat. I might not know much about cooking, but I can do that much for you.”

His black beak twisted into a weary smile. “Oh, alright. You know I like my eggs a little runny, right?”

“Yeah, don't worry about it.” I dug a skillet out of the cabinet, after accidentally removing the cabinet door entirely, and set it on the stove. “So, you didn't answer, but how have you been?”

Papa eased into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and popped his back. It took him a while to answer. “Well, Kaz, I'm not going to lie to you. It's been a little rough these past few months. Now, don't start feeling bad about leaving or anything. It's good that you've found some honest work, even if it's out of town, and I've been managing.”

Honest work. Right. While I set to cooking the snail omelets, I asked, “I noticed the guns you had strewn around in the other room. Are you still maintaining them for people?”

“That's right. There's not much of a town guard, but Corn Rows has been trying to get something organized. So, for now anyway, that means a lot of guns that need to be stripped down, oiled and had all of their rusty bits replaced. Should keep me busy, more or less.” He coughed hard a few times and fought to catch his breath. “The medicine's been helping too. I got where I almost couldn't drag my sorry butt around anymore. Had to get a lot of help from the other townsfolk, and they were nice about it, but you can always tell when your welcome's starting to run thin. Things are better now.”

I flipped the first omelet in the pan and frowned at the sight of it being a little too browned. Guess I'd be eating that one. “Yeah, Liese mentioned that she managed to get some more for you. How much do you have left?”

“So, you really have run into her?”

I cocked my head and looked back. Uh… maybe I shouldn't have mentioned her. Great. “...yeah, I have. Why?”

Papa coughed a few times again and sighed. “When she showed up, I wasn't sure what to make of it. She hasn't come home in years, and when she does she's got a few token Crimson's Caravan things and says she got them from you. I don't know, I hate to doubt her, but I wondered if maybe she did that just to get in the door.”

“What, you weren't going to shut her out, were you?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “But Liese has always had… an interesting way of looking at things. She knows I don't approve of what she's doing. I wish she'd have just joined a caravan like you did.”

That's right, twist that knife around a few more times. In fact, I was starting to wonder if he knew, or suspected, more and was trying to trick me into admitting it. No, couldn't think that.

I started on the next omelet and said, “Yeah, she's always been… different. But, yeah, the caravan trades with Fillydelphia, so I ran into her there. She told me she was going on leave, so I sent what I could back with her. I wish I could have gotten off before and wish I'd been paid more by now, but the caravan has some strict rules on that.”

“I understand. Don't think I'm dressing you down here, son. I'm honestly glad to see you, and that's the truth. I wish your sister were here too, but that's what it is.” Papa coughed hard again. “You need to get that situation with the letters sorted out though.”

“Huh?”

“What, haven't run into Liese after I sent them back with her? Crimson's Caravan kept returning my letters, said they couldn't find you on the duty rosters but that it happened sometimes.”

“Oh. Oh, that. Yeah, uh, she did tell me about that. I don't know what happened there, but I'll try to find out.” I plated the second omelet, which was a little runny like he asked, and joined him at the table. “Did you get my letter?”

He smiled and nodded. “I did, just a week ago. Was really glad to get it too.” He coughed and took a deep breath again. “But anyway, enough gabbing for now. Let's eat.”

Music to my ears. Less so to my mouth, but at least it tasted mostly like eggs.

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

I'm not sure if it was because it was so unusual to be back home and in my old bed, the draft from the dilapidated walls or maybe the guilt of not being completely honest with papa, but I didn't sleep a bit.

That sucked. I was really hoping to catch up on my sleep some while off duty, but so far it had been even worse than when I was active. Oh well, it was what it was. By the time morning came I found myself lying fully awake on my bed and staring at the old things sitting in my room precisely where I left them. The broken mirror on the dresser at the end of the bed. The cracked popcorn ceiling above. A small shelf of medical books that looked like it might have been caught under a roof leak at some point. That old worn out blanket that had degraded so much when I was a griffawn that I came to calling it a “fuzzy” instead of the blanket it was.

For a long, long time I laid there and considered if maybe I could avoid going back. Serge was dead serious when he told me not to think about it, but I did anyway. In the end I realized it was foolhardy to try, but being home again made it impossible to not consider it at least.

When I finally grew weary of that and trying to go back to sleep, I dragged myself out of bed and wandered downstairs to find papa already up and busying himself with reassembling one of the SMGs.

“Morning, sleepy feathers. Sleep well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I lied.

He smirked. “Insomnia? You look like hell, son.”

I plopped down next to him. “Yeah. Yeah, you know how it is.”

He made a small affirming sound. “You ever learn to put one of these back together while out on the trail? Might help you take your mind off of things.”

I had learned a little bit, but the quartermasters and their assistants took care of a lot of that in Talon Company, so I didn't really know too much. I could hand him pieces as he asked for them though, and for a couple of hours we cleaned and put guns back together in relative silence. To an outsider it might have looked strange, but it really did make me feel more at home. Despite all the talking we'd done the day before, neither papa nor I were much of conversationalists. Liese was rarely home either. It really felt like the old days. The old days that were what, six months ago? A year? I couldn't even keep it straight anymore.

After he finished one of the guns, papa sat back and took a deep breath. “It's a shame Juana just started renovating that old restaurant. If she were done with it now, I could really go for some posole or something like that right about now.”

“Juana?” I thought back. “Oh, wait, the donkey?”

“That's right. Did you run into her yesterday?”

“Not exactly. I just saw her on the way in tearing the walls out of the place. So, she's setting up a restaurant? Sounds nice.”

Papa got up and cracked his back, which sounded like a pack of firecrackers going off. “I'm hoping she gets it ready in the next month or so, but you've got to head back tomorrow, right? Guess we'll have to settle for getting grub somewhere else. You up for whatever Cream Puff is cooking up today?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Well, guess it was time to go back out into public and answer a bunch of questions to the townsfolk. Or maybe nobody would care that I was back. That was possible too.

Cream Puff's diner, like most things in town, hadn't changed much at all while I was gone. There was a new radio on the counter and a new crack in one of the windows, but other than that it was pretty much the same.

She even remembered what I usually ordered: pumpkin bisque with a fresh biscuit on the side. It was hard to get meat in a town of ponies, but the bisque was really good, and if it were possible, the biscuit was even better than the ones I'd had back at Stonetalon AFB. I took small bites of it to make it last as long as I could.

A few other patrons wandered in while papa and I ate at our little booth in the back corner, but I kept my head down, figuratively, and tried not to attract much attention or pay it any mind.

That all ended when Dr. High Hopes, and his lovely new unicorn assistant Panacea came in for their breakfast.

“Kasimir? Kasimir Longtalons?” the stocky green earth pony called out from the doorway. He waddled over, assistant in tow, and gave me a visual examination that could have passed for a physical. “I'll be, it is you. Didn't think I'd ever see you back in these parts. Get tired of the caravan life already?”

Thanks, doc, but you're the entire reason I was gone in the first place. Actually, that's not fair. And I really couldn't blame Panacea either, as much as she looked like she expected I did. She kept behind High Hopes with her ears flattened and her eyes trained literally everywhere but mine. No, it wasn't really their faults. After I dropped that last super restoration potion, it was a little wonder High Hopes didn't skewer me with a scalpel on the spot.

“Not exactly. Just had some time off and I decided I'd come back to visit while I could.”

Papa huffed at the pony. “After that big fuss you made, I'd figure you'd be happy.”

Gee, thanks dad, I was trying not to make a scene here.

High Hopes swished his tail and scuffed a hoof on the floor. “Yeah, well, look, I was steamed and might have said some things I shouldn't have, but it all worked out, right? You like the work you're doing now, Kaz?”

Hell. Fucking. No. “Yeah, it's alright.” And before papa could interject with another acidic remark, I asked, “How are things here? Not staying too busy, I hope.”

Panacea skipped back a step as High Hopes retreated a little into her. “Ah, well, things are going pretty well. Haven't had too many ponies getting hurt lately, so that's good. Had to fix up Maize's leg just yesterday though.” He mimed stepping into a hole and made a cracking sound. “Snapped her pastern, just like that. Panacea here had her right as rain within the hour though.”

The golden unicorn mare grinned sheepishly and nodded once. “A, uh, freak accident. Nothing too hard to fix.”

“That's right. Worth her weight in gold,” High Hopes repeated. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, well, anyway, I don't want to hold you two up while you're eating. Swing by the office if you get a chance, you hear?”

“Got it.” But didn't really plan on it.

He mercifully got the hint and headed off to get some breakfast biscuits for himself and Panacea, leaving me and papa alone again.

Papa licked a little of his soup from his beak and smirked. “You took that pretty well.”

I shrugged. “You have to let things go eventually. I don't hold it against them.”

“Good on you, son. You'll get far with that attitude.” He pushed the empty bowl aside and gave a satisfied sigh. “What do you say I show you around town now? Might be a while before you get to meet everyone again.”

I wasn't really in a hurry to go parading around town on a hello-goodbye tour, but didn't have any better ideas. Whatever papa wanted to do was fine with me.

Sadly, but unsurprisingly, the next day came and went in the blink of an eye, and if I was going to be sure that I made it back to base in time I would have to leave around lunchtime the next day.

Papa and I spent the morning like we did the previous day, putting more guns back together, picking out the ones that needed machining work and not really saying too much, but when the time came for me to depart, I did have a little more to say.

We were still sitting around the living room. After digging around in my bags for a minute, I pulled out a bullet as big as my thumb. A fifty caliber bullet that I'd taken from the rifle of that griffoness that died at the raider camp. It wouldn't do me much good, and it wasn't much of a gift, but I held it up for papa to see.

“I know it's not much, but I wanted to leave this with you. I found it out on the trail and thought you might appreciate it for what it is.”

Papa plucked the brass and steel from my clutches and examined it closely. “Haven't seen one of these in years. An anti-materiel rifle bullet. Steel Rangers use them a lot, but no one much else does. Too hard to find parts and even harder finding something you'd want to burn the ammo on. You didn't bump into them at some point, did you?”

“Hardly,” I answered, truthfully for once. Had I bumped into Steel Rangers in my line of duty, they probably would have given me a few new orifices with their opening salvo and we wouldn't be having this conversation.

“Eh, it's probably for the best. It's a shame you didn't find the gun it went to as well, but it's still a pretty lucky find.” He smirked. “I ought to make you keep it then. You can use the luck.”

I actually hadn't had any deadly mishaps since I picked it up, but wasn't about to start putting my faith in trinkets like that. “No, no, if I had something better to leave you, maybe, but it's all I've got.”

Papa gingerly set the bullet on the coffee table. “I'll have to think about what to do with it. If I cared much for jewelry it might make an interesting necklace. The casing might work to put on a key chain or something, but I'd hate to ruin it over just that.” He shrugged. “I'll figure something out. Thanks, Kaz.”

“Don't mention it. I just wish I had something better to give you.”

He coughed hard a few times and just shook his head. “Don't worry about that, son. Having you back here, one more time, was more than I could have asked for. It was good seeing you again.”

It was hard for me to tell if he'd intended it that way, but it sounded like he wasn't expecting us to see each other again. It was even harder for me to admit that he was probably right. He'd dodged the question as much as he could and never would give me a straight answer about his health, but I could tell he'd gotten appreciably worse since the last time I was there. Odds were good that I wouldn't see leave again for at least another year. Odds were not good that papa would live that long.

Lung cancer. I was sure of it. He'd been exposed to the same environments that ma had, and I was surprised it took this long. The coughing was unmistakable. I knew it. I was sure he knew it. The medication that High Hopes formulated for it was for the symptoms, not the disease. Maybe two hundred years ago, some pony doctor had concocted a potion that would fix it, but the formula for it got blown up with everything else when the war ended. Maybe Red Eye would dig up a copy of one some day years from now. Or maybe in a few centuries, when things weren't-

“Are you alright?”

I snapped out of the stupor. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just, uh, just not looking forward to heading back to work.”

Papa nodded. “I understand, but it's about time for you to go, right? Sounded like you had a pretty hard deadline to make, too.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

He sighed heavily and got up. “Well, maybe it'll be easiest to just kind of rip the bandage off quick. No more jawing, okay? I think we've said enough for now. Come on, I'll walk you to the door.”

I don't remember the trip over, but I do remember the awkward silence of us both standing out on the creaky old front porch, with neither being quite ready to rip the proverbial bandage free.

The silence was broken by him raising a claw in an unspoken offer that I accepted. We hadn't hugged in years. Not even on the day I left to “join the caravan.” His feathers were waxy and brittle in my claws, and I could feel that he wasn't even as large as he looked under the ruffled feathers and shedding coat, but I ignored all of that for that moment.

Eventually I had to let go, and papa held up a claw. “I know I said we've said enough for now, but something else just hit me. If you see your sister again, tell her I'm not mad at her. I don't care. None of it matters. Just tell her to come see me again if she gets the time, alright?”

It took a few moments to work up the nerve to reply. “If I head back to Fillydelphia, I'll be sure to find her and let her know.

A short silence fell again, but on a whim we both bid each other farewell. Before I could second guess myself again, I spread my wings and took to the sky. I waved goodbye once, and lifted up higher and higher until I could no longer be sure if he was even standing outside.

I oriented myself along the railroad and started the long and somber journey back to base.

The whole way back, the only thing I could think about was how unfair it was. 'It' in this case being just everything. I knew I wasn't going to see my father alive again, but it didn't matter. The couple of days I had to spend with him were gone in a puff, just like that, and the only thing I could do was just accept it and get back to my obligations. It didn't matter if I didn't want to get back to my obligations or not, because they'd come find me if I didn't.

The resentment burned in the back of my mind and in my heart the whole way back, but I didn't break down or give up.

I even made it back to base with six hours to spare. Six whole hours I could have spent with papa, but now I got to spend working for Master Red Eye.

There was a strong temptation to dick around the mountainside for a while to kill as much time as I could, but I decided against it. As much as I hated it, and the fact that papa didn't know about it, I sucked it up and decided that I would have to just get on with it.

In a way, doing a bad job here almost felt more insulting to papa than not trying to do my best.

As I curled up in my bunk and tried to sleep away the last of my leave, that's what I kept telling myself. Maybe if I really did do what I could to make things better, that would be the best I could do in his memory.

It was the little things like that which helped me pick myself up the next thousand mornings on my misbegotten tour of duty.

Gain Experience – You gain 5,000 experience points for accomplishing your goals.