I didn't sleep at all for the next two nights. In fact, I barely remember at all what I did during that time period. With The Pit over, patrols were returning to something approaching normal, as much as there was a concept of normal, and that meant that we would be returning to standard routes over the city again. Fortunately for me, a little negotiating with Serge was able to get me shifts in the clinic those days instead, but I knew it couldn't possibly last for much longer. The clinic was overstaffed with me there at abnormal hours, something that would eventually make its way up the command chain to someone who wouldn't be pleased with it.

Nevertheless, I appreciated the chance to return to my normal element of working somewhere that let me help people. That is, until the boredom began to set in again. As before, the field hospital wasn't under much demand at all with the worst patients we treated for two days being a pair of troops who had a training accident and flew into each other. Just nasty bruises and a sprained wing. Nothing that required two or three trained medics to treat.

You could only turn the eggs or rearrange the laughable medicine stocks or clean the place so many times a day, and that left lots of spare time. Spare time that I didn't put to good use. My infuriating insomnia never let me fall asleep completely at any point, which is just as well since I wasn't allowed to anyway, but at this point I hadn't sleep soundly for many days. Several times while just leaning against a wall I drifted into that annoying state of being half-asleep where I imagined ponies in flannel shirts were fixing roofs, or heard phantom voices calling my name, or thought I saw my papa walking around outside. Or, you know, imagined dying ponies lying in the hospital beds. By about third time that happened, I was no longer happy being in the hospital.

Rather than risk that happening again, I set to pacing around the floor to keep alert. That led to me doing a lot of thinking. Thinking led to dwelling on lots of unpleasant topics, such as a suffocating feeling of hopelessness and being trapped in this Hell. But, one thing did start nagging at the back of my mind. I was making a lot of assumptions there. The contract that I signed was long and full of legalese that I mostly skimmed. Was there a termination clause in there somewhere? Was I trapped? Almost certainly, but there was that tiny glimmer of hope. I'd cling to that over just giving up completely.

I tried bringing it up subtly with Yvonne. “Beats me. I've been here so long I just keep signing the things when they're put in front of me. Never thought I'd actually live to see the first one expire, you know?” That wonderfully fatalistic attitude didn't help at all.

So, that really only left me with one option. I considered asking Ida or Serge about it, but that ran the risk of the rest of my squad finding out I was a quitter. That couldn't possibly have a good effect on my reputation, and after puking in front of them I didn't need any more setbacks. The only option it left scared me a little: asking the lieutenant.

I tried to talk myself out of it for the rest of my shift, but increasingly I became convinced it was the best thing to do. If I didn't ask, I'd run the tiny risk of not getting out of an unmitigated disaster of a situation, or at worst wondering for the rest of my life if I could have. If I did ask, I ran the risk of more embarrassment in front of one griffoness. Who did admittedly have the power to make my life suck... but weighing the options, I finally decided to try it.

For better or worse...

Once my shift was over that afternoon, I took a detour on the way back to the barracks by the train station inside the base. I'd learned long ago this was where the lieutenant's office was located, although the closest I'd ever gotten to it was the mess hall that was situated across the road from it. The station was partially restored, but much of it was still its original wooden construction. The planks of its walls were gray and dried with age but astonishingly looked to still be in good shape aside from the left half of the entrance wall, which had been replaced by sheets of plywood and a single strip of smooth sheet metal. A dim light shone from the remaining window, which dashed my fleeting hopes that maybe nobody would be home and I could just forget this nonsense.

Steeling myself, I ascended the steps with a series of creaks and groans of wood that should have been replaced a hundred and fifty years ago. If anybody was here, they knew they had company now. Maybe that would make this easier. I hesitated at the door, holding a claw up to knock. Should I? Or should I just head inside? Well... I knew which was safer. After gathering my courage a second time, I rapped on the door.

“Come in?” a young male voice asked. Huh? Was this not her office? Or was I supposed to just walk in? Doing just that, I found myself in a poorly lit receptionist area that smelled very strongly of ancient wood, and curiously, a mixture of talon polish and flowers. A young, bespectacled and lavender feathered griffon looked up from the terminal he was typing at and asked, “Yes, sir?” I'd seen him before on base, but had no idea who he was or what he did. He kept people from annoying the lieutenant needlessly, it seemed.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, uh, is Lieutenant Blackfeathers in?”

His eyes scanned me, then the screen in front of him. “Is she expecting you?”

“Uh, no, she's not. I can come back later.” Right. Sorry for bothering you, this was a dumb idea anyway. I'll be on my way...

He nodded. “One second then, let me see if she's busy,” he said, rising from his seat and vanishing down a hallway in the far wall.

Dammit. Maybe I should just go while he was away. I could pretend I heard the sergeant calling for me or something. Or that I just remembered I left something at the hospital. Or...

“You can go on back,” he said, emerging from the hallway.

Even if I convinced myself I really didn't want to? Ugh... “Alright, thank you.” With more than a bit of hesitation I followed the hallway into a string of offices, hitting a couple more squeaky floor boards on the way. From what I could tell most of the offices had been stuffed beyond capacity with boxes upon boxes of who knew what, or had been barred off for one reason or another. A rotted through floor in the first office gave me a pretty good idea of why.

Wiping my face to wake up a little, I stopped at the only office with any light spilling out of it through a narrow crack in its door. She couldn't have just left the door open? I took a deep breath and knocked on the door frame to get her attention.

“Come in.”

Nudging the door open, I was first hit by that powerful aroma of flowers and paint thinner. Was this the air freshener I'd heard was used by ponies way back when? Why in Equestria would anybody willingly fill their home or office with this? Trying to ignore the overbearing smell, I stepped inside and stopped in front of her desk. The office was astonishingly well furnished. Her desk was large and made of some stained wood and decorated with claw or hoof carved trim. Two matching chairs were positioned in front of it on top of a clean and intact black and gold rug. On the wall hung an antique smooth bore gun of some variety, possibly even prewar. Next to it were a set of teeth so large they could have only come from a dragon...

“What is it?” she asked simply, not looking up from the piece of paper sitting on her desk. She rotated a pen in her claws as her eyes scanned the document.

She made no mention of taking a seat, so I didn't. Okay... time to do this. I took another deep breath and stammered, “Uh, sorry for, ah, bothering you ma'am, but... I, uh, wanted to discuss something about my... my contract.” Get it together! She's not going to attack you for asking a question!

Slowly, her eyes tracked up to mine as she raised an eyebrow. “Private Longtalons. How... unexpected.” She went back to reading and asked, “What is it then?”

Okay, foot was in the door. I raked my talons through my feathers. “The, uh... the part about uh, terminating a contract.”

That got her attention. She sat back and cocked her beak. “Did you perhaps bother to read that part of your contract before you signed it?”

...kind of? “Y-yes ma'am, but... that was a while ago, and, uh... it was rather long...”

“So, you signed a very important document, which will be controlling your life for the foreseeable future, without paying attention to it?” Her expression darkened a little. Shit.

“N-no ma'am. I-I just wanted a refresher on the terms.” Surely I didn't need to explain why...

She set her pen down and steepled her fingers. “The terms are the same for everyone. Your initial commitment is for four years. It renews every two years after that.”

“And... I, uh... suppose there's no way to end it sooner than that?”

There really was no positive response that could have elicited. Going into this, I fully expected a verbal assault for even daring to bring it up. I was a little surprised when she asked, “Am I to assume then that you no longer wish to be part of our company?”

...was she seriously going to give me an opportunity to quit? This had to be a trap. “I... I'm starting to think I'm not cut out for this, ma'am.”

She nodded with the slightest hint of a glower. “Perhaps you don't understand how much resources have been committed to you. Do you think that your armor, weapon, ammunition, medical kit and other supplies and equipment are free?” She cocked her head. “Do you think that the time spent training you is free?”

“No ma'am, it's... it's just that I think maybe that would all be better spent on someone else.” Besides, wasn't the money for our gear coming out of our pay? I really should ask Serge about that after this was over. I still had no idea how or when we even got paid.

“We can't get that time back, private.” She frowned and tapped her talons together. “Trained medics are difficult to find. You're worth far too much to simply dismiss because you have no spine.”

Okay, that stung. I was really, really tired, and not thinking clearly, so the signals from my brain to my mouth telling it to stay shut didn't make it in time. “Forgive me if I don't enjoy watching ponies suffer and die.”

“Do you think this is a game? Do you think we do this for fun?” She propped her elbows on her desk and frowned harder. “Don't think that you're the first Talon to have a stroke of conscience. But we have an important job to do here, and you are no different from any of the rest of us.” Her voice took an icy tone as she added, “I don't have to do anything but order you out of my office and back to your duty, whether you like it or not, but despite what Private Galeforce might have you believe I don't get off on needlessly provoking the troops under me. I've met your kind before, and I can appreciate that you could use a bit of encouragement. Private, have you ever been to the homeland?”

What did that have to do with this? My folks were originally from the griffon kingdoms, but Liese and I were both hatched and raised in Equestria. “Uh, no ma'am, I haven't.”

She nodded with a blank expression. “The fact that we're having this conversation could have told me as much. Since you've never been, you can't truly appreciate what's being done here. Allow me to paint a mental image for you.” She sat back in her plush chair and cast her gaze toward the gun on the wall. “The griffon kingdoms didn't die like Equestria. Imagine, if you will, what would happen if a country, whose citizens were widely armed and who were renowned for making the best mercenaries in the world, suddenly had the neighbor it relied on wiped away in the blink of an eye.

“Equestria exported almost all of the food we relied on. After the zebras stopped exporting fossil fuels, we came to rely on Equestria for that too.” She snapped her fingers. “Gone. Not many balefire missiles struck the kingdoms, but those who survived saw little better. Massive starvation followed. Complete and utter failure of every aspect of the economy. Industries collapsed overnight. When food and resources ran out, people got desperate. When bullets were the most plentiful thing in existence, you can probably imagine what happened.”

Her claw clenched into a fist. “If you think that raiders like the Grimscythes are bad, you have no idea. Our homeland is every bit as desolate as Equestria, but nobody tries to do anything about it. There are no cities like Fillydelphia. Everyone is a raider or ganger, and every encounter with a stranger starts with shooting. It hasn't gotten better in two hundred years, and it won't in any of our lifetimes.”

She looked back to me. “All of that because the ponies and zebras got in an international pissing match. Just like that, we all suffer, for two hundred years. The ponies and zebras haven't begun to start paying back the debt they owe to the world for what they've done. Fillydelphia is the first step on the road to restoring Equestria, and eventually, the Griffon Kingdoms. So, the next time you walk outside and see a factory producing new steel or fuel or cloth, think about what Master Red Eye has already done. If this is what it takes to make up for their mistakes, so be it.”

...what could I say to that? Even if I knew it was wrong to punish the ponies today for what their ancestors did, I was smart enough to know to shut up and just stay quiet. This had been a terrible idea.

“So, to answer your question.” She held up a claw and extended all of her talons. “There are four ways you leave the service of the Talons. One, you do your job until your contract expires and you don't renew it. Two, Master Red Eye dismisses you personally. That's never happened to my knowledge, so don't count on it. Three, Captain Stern dismisses you. Unless you have all of your limbs blown off by a Steel Ranger, that's not likely to happen either, and trust me when I say that you don't want to go ask her what you've asked me. She's not as forgiving as I am.” She folded down her last talon. “Lastly, you leave when your soul flies out of your dead body on to whatever personal Hell you've crafted for yourself in this life.” She took a deep breath and grasped her pen again. “Do you understand that, private?”

“Yes ma'am...”

“Good.” She resumed to scanning her oh-so-important piece of paper and waved to the door. “Then you're dismissed. And private, if I might make a suggestion, you should get some rest. You look tired.”

“Yes ma'am...” I shut the door behind me and trudged my way out, past the purple griffon whose name I still didn't know. A lot of good that conversation did me. I wasn't any closer to being free and had probably just given Lieutenant Blackfeathers lots more reasons to scrutinize and dislike me.

At the very least, she'd been professional about it. Carmelita had me scared to even speak with her, but she could have been a lot meaner about it. I just had to do what I was told. No matter what that meant.

How long would I be able to do that?

Being ordered to sleep didn't help. Every time I closed my eyes I kept picturing Glitter or hearing her dying whinnies, which set my mind to racing again looking for any possible way out of this mess. For a moment or two I even considered if it was possible to run. To just fly away and never look back. I crushed that kernel of thought pretty quickly. Fillydelphia might have been built with keeping ground bound ponies inside, but I wasn't dumb enough to think that the Talons would just let me go. They'd come after me and when, not if, they found me, they'd probably make the entire town I was in sorry for my mistake.

Giving up on sleeping for the third night in a row, I decided to try to do something moderately more productive with my time than just lying in bed cursing the situation. Without turning the lights on and possibly waking Ida, I ran my claw into my footlocker and pulled out the first book my talons touched. Judging by the weight I knew it wasn't any of the novels I brought along, which was great. I sure didn't need to read any of that depressing crap right then.

Back out in the break room, I started a pot of coffee and plopped down at the table. It took a few moments of squinting and blinking to adjust my eyes to the harsh light, but I discovered I'd pulled out one of my mom's old medical journals from my stash. Surgical Procedures of the Claws and Paws: Volume II of XVIII. Woo. I guess I'd get to read whether I'd put Private Stormclouds' claw back together right.

Without a real topic in mind, I let the journal fall open to whatever it wanted, which turned out to be something about reattaching severed digital tendons when the tendon had retracted into the arm. Fun times. Not actually relevant to what I'd done for Private Stormclouds, but still a potentially useful procedure to be familiar with. Yawning wide enough to make my jaw ache, I flipped back to the first page of the section and started reading. The coffee couldn't brew fast enough.

I must have been on my second cup of black coffee when the door flew open and banged against the wall loud enough to resonate through my skeleton. “Dang it, Ike, what if someone's trying to sleep? You don't have to attack the door.” An amused grunt followed. Oh, so that was who woke me up last week. From the sounds of it I thought someone dropped a couple of cases of ammunition outside or something.

A brown feathered griffoness hopped inside and froze when she saw me. “Or maybe not. Sorry Kaz,” Leigh offered.

“Don't worry about it, I couldn't sleep anyway.” I glanced back at the door behind me, but didn't hear anything inside. “And I doubt you could wake Ida up that easily.”

Leigh made room for her huge orange feathered friend and gave him a light tap on the side. “Yeah, well, that doesn't make it right. I keep telling him we need to actually fix the door rather than just try to break the rust off of the hinges.”

Isaac shrugged and gave me that little creepy finger-waggling wave he used.

She swished her tail and set their rifles in the corner. “One day you're going to do that when Serge is trying to sleep. That won't be so pretty.” She set to unclasping her armor and added, “In fact, why don't you go see Sam right now and get some grease for that door? That's an order, Private Clawmarks.”

He gave a distorted deep chuckle and rolled his eyes, then disappeared off into the early morning darkness.

“Should have done that a month ago,” she muttered as she dug through a satchel on her side. “I swear I've got too much junk in here. Now, where is-ah, here we go.” She produced her portable terminal and set it on the table. How in the world did she lose that in a bag that size? “...and the battery is still charged. Cool.”

I flipped the page and sucked down the rest of my coffee. “Still working on that game?”

“Uh huh. I like to plug away at it a little each day if I can. It helps me unwind a bit before bed.” She popped the lid up and hit a button. “Guess you like reading before bed? What do you have there?”

“More of something to do when I can't sleep,” I answered, holding the book up so she could see the cover.

“'Surgical Procedures for...' Heh, that isn't exactly light reading. I guess it could put you to sleep if nothing else could.”

I shrugged. “It's worth a try, but believe it or not this is how I relax sometimes.”

Her computer beeped something that sounded annoyed, to which she responded by grumbling and closing and opening the lid a few times. “Hunk of junk...” When she finally convinced the rebellious technology to behave, she fell into a seat and asked, “So, you don't have anything a bit more fun to read? I thought for sure I saw some novels in that pile of yours.”

Had she gone through my stuff? No, probably just seen it when the locker was open. “I've got some, but I'm not really in the mood for any of that.”

She nodded and hammered some keys so fast there's no way she knew what she was typing. “I see. Makes sense. Whatever works for you.”

We both got pretty quiet after that, aside from the occasional tapping and clicking spree from Leigh's claws on the terminal. Other than a groan or sigh here and there she didn't say anything, which was okay with me. Some people could really appreciate the value of just sitting silently and reading or working on whatever suited your fancy, something that was extraordinarily rare in this city. Having a little while to just calmly and quietly do what I wanted for a change was nice, even if I was fighting to sit up straight and really process the words in front of me.

The third cup of coffee finally started helping with that a bit, letting me wake up enough to realize that it was getting a bit chilly. Leigh had left the door open, probably expecting Isaac back soon, but half an hour later it was still open and with no sign of the orange griffon anywhere. Cold nights in Filly were pretty rare compared to hot and muggy nights, but at least it was consistently uncomfortable. Leigh was lost in her own little world of digital griffons and ponies and clearly didn't notice or care, but I was just getting ready to get up and do something about it when someone landed outside.

“Hey, someone's home at least,” Lita said.

“Leigh and Isaac must be back. We're a little late,” Serge replied.

“What did Heidi want with you anyway? You must have been in there fifteen minutes.”

“Don't worry about it. It was standard stuff for the most part. Nothing that pertains to you.”

Carmelita poked her head inside, then jumped in. “Hey, you two waiting on something here? You're letting all of the cold and gross in.”

Leigh didn't look up from her terminal as she replied, “I sent Ike to go badger Sam for some grease for the door.” She raised an eyebrow and stopped typing. “How long ago was that?”

“A while,” I said, unsure of the specifics.

Serge followed Lita in and pulled the door closed behind him. “Really? Leigh, why'd you send him?”

She smirked and went back to typing. “I figured if we annoyed him enough about it he'd finally cough some up.”

“Fourth time's the charm. Maybe.” Serge pulled off his breastplate and collapsed into a seat at the table. “Kaz, shouldn't you be asleep?”

“Mmhmm.” I marked my page and closed the book. “Maybe I should try again now. I couldn't fall asleep. The coffee probably won't help though.”

He ran his talons through his feathers and propped his elbows on the table. “Right, well, this probably won't help then. Might as well tell you since you're awake. Your orders for tomorrow have changed. You've got firing squad duty.”

For the second I was still processing that I thought Lita was going to climb over the table to get to him. “The hell? Is that what you were talking with the lieutenant so long for? What did he do?”

Holy shit, I was getting a firing squad!? For what, asking her if I could quit!? What the flying... oh, wait. Firing squad duty. Still... what?

Serge held up a claw. “Stow it. It's a personal matter and even I don't know why. I'm just passing the news along.” He turned back to me. “Do you know where the prison is?”

“I... uh... I... no.”

“Right. I'll have Ida show you in the morning. You're supposed to show up at six. Bring your normal gear. A weapon will be assigned to you, but right after you're done you'll be joining Ida on patrol unless the lieutenant says otherwise. Got it?”

I stared back at him in mild disbelief. “Uh... yeah. This... is this a punishment?”

“Pssh, yeah. Heidi hands this out when she's really pissed at someone,” Lita said, dropping something heavy in the growing pile of equipment on the floor. “She's a real piece of work. She always watches too. I think she gets off on it.”

“You think she gets off on everything,” Leigh muttered.

“That's enough,” Serge interjected. “Sorry Kaz, but that's all I know, and I don't need to know more. Just do it and get it over with. You can still get a couple of hours of sleep if you go now.”

I groaned and shook my head. “I don't think there's any point now...”

Lita fell into the last chair at the table and grunted. “Yeah, me neither. I'm kinda pissed at Heidi now. I've had to do this a couple of times. She'll assign it over the stupidest stuff.” She crossed her arms and leaned her chair back on two legs. “It sucks, but the prisoners earned it.”

Yeah. Sure. Some did. But what about Glitter Dust?

This just kept getting better and better.

Fuck.

Now I had to be afraid to really talk. Not even about Red Eye, but anything...

The thought of a prison within the veritable prison that was Fillydelphia would have been almost amusing if I wasn't staring at it from up in the air on our approach. There was nothing amusing about the ancient, stained and dark compound ahead of me. Even if it wasn't originally a facility used to house violent and deadly criminals long ago when such a thing had meaning, it just felt... wrong. There was no visible security anywhere outside. The fragmented wooden remains of a spotlight tower sat off in an exercise yard of churned up soil, and it looked like the original fencing had been torn up from around the entire compound to be taken somewhere more useful. From the looks of the bits of cement jutting up from the perimeter, there was a more solid curtain wall that had probably faced a similar fate long ago.

Clearly, Red Eye either kept very few criminals here or thought little of the consequences if they escaped.

To my left, Ida silently matched my bank and dive to line up with the prison. She hadn't said much other than expressing some mild astonishment at the change of plans this morning. I declined to comment on why I'd been sentenced to this, and she hadn't asked. It was for the best. In a lot of ways. I just had to hope this hadn't damaged her opinion of me too much. Serge and the others seemed to take it in stride, so maybe this wasn't so uncommon. Maybe even Ida had dealt with it before. Not that I had any intention to ask.

We landed at what I guessed was the primary entrance to the collapsing jail house, consisting of a heavy metal door that was rusted through in two places set into a slab of concrete with spiderwebs of cracks running through it. A browning spot gave way to a large fissure and a stream of foul smelling water that vanished down the hill behind us. Funny that before the war this would have been considered unacceptable housing for the worst of Equestria's criminals.

Ida paused at the first step, fixating on a dead and brown weed shooting up from the cracks, then turned to face me. “Okay Kaz, just... head on in. Lieutenant Blackfeathers is probably already here.” Her beak opened and shut a couple of times before she said, “When... whenever you're done, just come meet me back at the theme park.”

I nodded wordlessly and waited for her to flare her wings and flap away. At this point I'd lost so much sleep I didn't feel like talking. I didn't feel like walking inside. I sure didn't feel like meeting Heidi and shooting anybody. I just wanted to go back home to Oatsfield, crawl into my bed, and never come back out. My eyes settled on the door ahead... well the double image of it that my tired eyes failed to bring into focus, and I tried to wrestle my legs into taking me that way. It felt so far away, and my eyelids were so heavy... I sighed and wiped my face, cursing the caffeine crash I was experiencing at the worst possible moment. Wasn't I still a bit early? Maybe I could just sit here and wake up a bit for a minute...

The grinding of a door as tired as me snapped me back to reality. “There you are. Come in private, we don't have all day.”

“Yes ma'am.” I shook my head, blinked heavily a few times and ascended the stairs to join Heidi at the door.

“It looks like you didn't take my advice,” she said dryly, looking me square in the eyes. “As a medic I'd expect you to understand the importance of being rested.”

Like she had room to talk. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the timing of Serge's message to me I could only guess that she'd been up all night. Rather than spit that back at her, I simply told her the truth. “I couldn't sleep.”

She frowned and stepped back inside, swishing her tail. “Then I suggest you try again as soon as your shift is over. Follow me, we are on tight a schedule.”

“Yes ma'am...” The door staunchly refused my first attempt to wrestle it back into place, but I had no doubt leaving it cracked would piss her or someone else important off, so I yanked on it until its latch finally clanked shut.

We navigated through a series of ever darkening corridors devoid of functional lighting of any sort. The only illumination came from cracks and holes in the ceiling and the very rare window along the tops of the walls. Even without being claustrophobic I was anxious to get out of the cramped and suffocating complex. Being sentenced to live your last days in here must have been truly awful. For a moment I even questioned if it might have been worse than The Pit. Probably not.

“We have two executions to perform this morning. You'll be joining Private Ashwind. A weapon will be issued to you, then returned to the warden.” She stepped aside unexpectedly, leading me to groggily step in a puddle of that vile water. Shit. Not literally, I hoped. “You will each be assigned a prisoner to execute. You'll form up with him, then await my order to fire. Any questions?”

“No ma'am...”

We stopped at a less heavily worn door still mostly painted red. “Good. Before we begin, I want to make it abundantly clear why you're here right now, and how you can avoid this in the future.” She turned to face me. “You are aware of why you're here, aren't you?”

I blinked wearily. She wanted to hear me say it, huh? Fine. “The sergeant didn't know, but yes, ma'am, I do. Believe me, I won't bother you with anymore stupid questions.”

Heidi's eyes narrowed. “Private, in case you weren't paying attention during that little conversation, I'll remind you that I don't provoke my troops needlessly. I wish more would ask rather than screw something up, so no, that is not why you're here. You're here because you did screw up. Are you perhaps familiar with the phrase 'shit flows down hill?'”

What? I mean... sure, everything flowed down hill. But, what?

She didn't wait long for me to fail to respond. “You demonstrated a significant lapse in judgment and sense of duty by diverting from your assigned post at the city gate, and you chose to do so in front of Captain Stern herself. Private, let me make it clear that she has no tolerance for anything short of perfection. You're fortunate that she left it to me to decide your punishment.” She raised a talon to her chest. “So, let me reiterate: shit flows down hill. She has the ability to make my life very, very difficult. And when she does...” She pointed the talon at me. “...I have the ability to make yours even more difficult. I will not hesitate to pass it along to whoever is responsible for causing trouble. Do you understand?”

How could I have forgotten about that!? I tried to shove the embarrassing memory aside and nodded. “Yes ma'am. Sorry...”

She put her talon away. “Don't be sorry. Don't do it again. Now, come with me. You need to get this done so you can get back to your patrol.”

The first thing that hit me when she opened the door was the unmistakable odor of old blood. We emerged into a cavernous room that I could only guess was once a shower at one point. A large drain was set into the floor, and sure enough, was stained black and crimson. The far wall had the distinct chips and cracks from bullet impacts, aside from more red stains, and a pair of poorly rewired gem lights cast flickering shadows beneath us.

A thick set pink unicorn mare with a ragged black cap and a cigarette hanging from her mouth met us at the center of the room. “You ready?”

“Yes. Go retrieve the prisoners,” Heidi replied. When the mare disappeared through another door, Heidi stepped over to a table and retrieved a shotgun. “Here.”

I hesitated and set a claw on my rifle. “I already brought my weapon, ma'am.”

“We don't waste our ammunition on these fools. There are a hundred thousand shotgun slugs in storage and they ensure a sufficiently fast death.” She held the weapon out for me to take.

At least it wasn't shot, but... she was seriously rationalizing this on the value of bullets? I reluctantly stowed my rifle and took the shotgun. The weapon looked like it had been restored recently, so she was probably right about the abundance of ammo and parts.

“When I give the order to ready, chamber a round. I'll then tell you to aim, and lastly, fire. Shoot once for the center of mass. Don't try for a head shot because I do not want to deal with a panicked prisoner because you missed.”

I turned the gun over in my claws and nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

A minute later the mare returned, who I was assuming was the warden she spoke of, followed by two other ponies and an armed griffon that I barely recognized. That must have been Private Ashwind, and he looked about as unhappy to be there as I was. My heart started beating harder as the warden shackled the two ponies to the ground near the drain and Private Ashwind formed up beside me. Here it came. This was really happening. I was about to execute someone for something I didn't even know they did.

Heidi waved a claw for us to step back and onto lines marked with electrical tape on the ground. The beating in my chest was making my head hurt... “Ready.” I worked the action, finding the shotgun to respond with surprisingly little trouble.

“Do your worst!” the mare in front of Private Ashwind yelled. Both of the ponies looked like gangers. The mare was some weird shade between blue and green with a green spiked mane and holes poked in her ears for rings. The stallion ahead of me had a few scars on his face and twice as many piercings, but was looking much less confident in the face of what was coming.

“Aim.”

We both brought our shotguns up, and I placed the iron sights in the center of the stallion's chest. Whatever he did, I desperately hoped he'd earned this. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd killed someone. My palms were growing sweaty just at the thought of pulling the trigger. How stupid was it that I was hoping he'd done something terrible? The sights wavered from side to side slightly. I had to get it together. If I missed-

“Fire.”

A thunderous boom filled the room and both ponies lurched backward. The mare spasmed and thrashed a time or two on the ground, leaking blood from a huge hole in her chest. The stallion ahead of me squealed and shrieked, covering his head in his hooves and hunkering down.

“Private. Kasimir. Longtalons. Why have you not fired your weapon!?” Heidi yelled.

“I-I-I tried!” I yelled back, twisting the gun over in my claws again to check the chamber. The slug had been a dud! I'd pulled the trigger, but nothing happened! I remembered chambering a round. It wasn't my fault!

She stormed past Private Ashwind and snatched the shotgun away. “Unbelievable. I give you a simple order and you can't even do that.” A frustrated snarl passed her beak as she aimed at the shuddering stallion and pulled the trigger to no effect. She tried pumping the action but only got an ominous clicking sound. “Dammit.” She whipped her head up to the other griffon and pointed at me. “Give him yours.”

I didn't even bother reflecting on almost getting out of killing the pony. With the way she looked right then she might shoot me if I didn't do this. Accepting the weapon, I chambered another slug and looked to her for the order to fire.

“Just do it,” she spat, pointing a talon at the prisoner.

This time the weapon worked. The deafening boom was followed by the hunkering pony screaming and flipping over. Blood sprayed from a hole just under his chest, where my poorly aimed shot had struck the prone pony. He kicked his hooves and flopped around in his restraints, gushing red everywhere and trying to scream but only producing stilted, desperate sounding groans. Slowly, over the next minute or two, his struggling died off to a feeble twitch.

My claws felt numb. I'd killed him.

“Finally.” Heidi growled something to the warden and turned back to us. “Private Ashwind, you're dismissed. Private Longtalons, bring me your weapon.”

I handed it to her, trying not to worry about the scowl she was wearing ever since my first gun malfunctioned. That wasn't my fault! What, did she think I could magically make bullets into duds?

“Let this be a lesson for you, private. I understand how you are, and chose this punishment for you specifically. You still have a lot of learning and growing up to do and I can't hold your claw like your damned mommy. Now, when you walk through those doors, I don't expect to hear any more about you that might make me want to assign you to firing squad duty again. Because I will not hesitate to have you personally execute every last prisoner in this city. Do you understand?”

It didn't take a scholar to realize what she was getting at, so I nodded rapidly. “Yes ma'am, perfectly.”

“Good. Now get back to your post.” She narrowed her eyes once more. “I'll be checking up on you.”

I scurried out of the room and back into the bleak and empty hallway. Apparently Private Ashwind didn't want to talk about what had just happened since he was long gone, which left just me to plod slowly back to the exit. A slight chill ran down my spine at the sound of a water hose spraying the gore off the walls and floor in the room behind me. That was it. Two more ponies just died and their remains were being washed away like spilled grease.

I felt sick. I'd just killed a pony. My first time. That was it. That was how it felt to end someone's life intentionally. The circumstances hadn't been under my control, but it didn't seem to make much difference. It was going to happen again, and again, and every time was going to get easier. You just had to let part of you die and wither away so you could deal with it.

Liese's voice floated up in the back of my mind with, 'You're going to learn to love it here!'

I threw up in a pool of that wretched water and braced myself against a wall to recover what little was left of my strength and dignity. I felt utterly crushed and defeated. That was the turning point. The point at which I'd never be the same again.

You can't take something like that back.

Level Up - Level 5!

Egg Head – It looks like you're going to be up most nights reading again. At least all of that reading won't go to waste, giving you +2 skill points per level.