“Now what the Uncle Sam-hell do you think you're doing here?”

A steady stream of clicks issued forth from my pipbuck. I'd already doubled up on anti-radiation medicines and choked back a second does of RadAway, and still the little fetlock-mounted device was letting me know that I was being subjected to a bit more of the damaging magical energy than I was comfortable taking. What was worse was that those levels were climbing steadily. I entertained the notion of turning around and going back to the hospital to wait out the radiation; but I couldn't know for certain that more of those timberwolf things weren't still lurking around. I'd only ever had eyes on two of them, but the recording made by those Commonwealth soldiers suggested that there may have been more.

I was eager to get back to Wind Rider's Wagons and Freight as quickly as possible. However, I was starting to think that my return was going to be inevitably delayed. Staying out in the open and exposed to these potentially lethal conditions without knowing for certain if I was going to leave its boundaries in the next couple minutes or if it would take me half an hour to get to safety was too much of a risk. Not that I knew of any suitable places to seek refuge in these ruins.

My eyes almost immediately locked onto a brightly colored sign. It depicted the standard equestrian symbol that was used to denote the presence of magical radiation, but below it was the word 'shelter' and an arrow. Good enough for me! I took the indicated turn and galloped down the street at an increased speed, scanning for any additional signs. In just over a block, I spied another nearly identical sign, but this one had an arrow that pointed downward. Just below the sign was a hatch built into the base of a sturdy brick building.

Shelter from the radiation, perfect! I reached down and pulled at the hatch. It proved stubborn at first, but it was more a result of a lack of use and age, and eventually I heard the hinges issue forth a loud protest even as the sturdy metal door finally began to move. I positioned myself to get some better leverage and prepared to pull once more; only to pause.

There were two yellow blips visible on my pipbuck's Eyes Forward Sparkle.

I glanced around, noting only now that my surroundings were rather familiar. To include a slate sign and a cafe that I recognized. My lips curled in a grimace. Unless this abandoned Old World city had suddenly gotten very crowded in the last few hours, it had to be those two stable ponies from earlier. It'd been well over an hour since I'd left them, and it looked like they hadn't gone anywhere since. Not that the gray stallion had been in any sort of shape to go anywhere when I'd left them. The filly should have been able to walk for the most part, but given how I remembered her previous choices where her partner were concerned, I very much doubted that she was going to leave him even to save her own hide from certain death.

The stallion had been wearing a pipbuck of his own, as I recalled. It should be telling the both of them the same thing that mine was: unprepared ponies weren't long for this world if swift measures weren't taken. I had the benefit of specialized drugs, and even my skin was tingling. Those two had to be feeling a lot worse than I was, and I knew for a fact that neither of them had anything to mitigate or treat magical radiation exposure. Frankly, even if the filly did try to clear the radiation pocket that had moved in, she'd probably die in a few days anyway from the severe poisoning she'd acquired.

With a shake of my head, I returned my attention to the metal hatch and heaved it open. At the apex, gravity finally started working with me rather than against me and the door fell of to the side with a loud 'clang!'. I peered down into the dark interior beyond. No red blips. As long as there weren't any other monsters around here that could hide from my pipbuck, I should be safe down there until the storm passed.

I looked back over my shoulder at the pair of yellow dots on my EFS. Given the radiation levels and their lack of medications to resist it, those two would be dead in minutes. They were probably on their way out already.

My mind went to a little yellow statuette nestled in my saddlebag. I didn't hear her chiding me in my head like I was used to, but I had a fair idea of what she'd want me to do.

It was what Windfall would want me to do too.

With a sigh, I trotted away from the open shelter and headed for the cafe where I had encountered the two young ponies earlier. This was going to be awkward.

As I neared the entrance, I could hear somepony talking. It was the older stallion, “you haf to gow, pwease,” he wasn't sounding too good. Aside from the slurred speech that had been brought on by what I had done to his jaw, I could hear his labored breathing and strained words. The radiation was getting to him, “juss weave me...”

“I won't,” the filly insisted vehemently. She wasn't in the best condition either from the sound of things, “we go together, or not at all! Now come on and get up!”

When I rounded the corner, I found the little yellow filly grunting as she pushed her shoulder up against the elder earth pony's side in an effort to help him to his hooves. A cyan glow was wrapped around both her horn and the other pony as she used her levitation magic to assists. The field was fading in and out as she strained to maintain it. Whether her magic was being affected by the radiation or she was simply too exhausted to focus properly, it was impossible to know. To his credit, the stallion looked like he was putting forth an honest effort to stand as well, but the tears and quivering legs suggested that the pain he was feeling just wasn't something that he was going to be able to overcome. Frankly, I doubted that his broken ribs and limbs were going to allow him to stay on his hooves even if he did somehow make it up. Willpower didn't come into it; I'd done a real number on that pony's body.

After several seconds of groaning and gasping, the pair of young ponies collapsed to the floor. The earth pony tried to contain a pained yell behind gritted teeth, and the filly was panting with the effort that she had put into the attempt. She slumped into an awkward sitting position, wincing from her own aches.

“I...I can't,” the young stallion shook his head in resignation, “pwease go, Mehwybell. Pwease...” he turned his head to look at the little yellow unicorn filly. He was the first of the pair to notice me, and I saw his brown teary eyes grow wide with terror as he recognized me, “no...run!” he pawed at the ground, trying to drag himself in between me and the other pony. It was pathetic to watch.

Only then did the little unicorn turn around and see me as well. Her own face was a mask of frightful resignation. She flung herself upon her brother and buried her face in his side. Given the state of his ribs, it must have hurt the stallion tremendously, but I could see no sign of that pain on his face. His only thoughts right now were of the filly, and doing all that he could to protect her from me. No matter how miserably token that effort might truly be.

The Big Brother, protecting his little sister from the Big Bad Pony come to hurt her. You're a better pony that I was at your age, I thought at the gray stallion.

Without a word, since I doubted very much that I'd be able to trust myself to say anything that either of them would take to be reassuring, I simply approached until I was standing nearly over top of them. All the while, the stallion was shifting between pleas for me to leave and urging the younger filly to run away while he bought her time to escape. For her part, the filly was quietly praying to Princess Celestia to keep her and her brother safe.

Long dead Princesses had nothing to do with what was about to happen. Nope; this was all just on the shoulders of a crazy old earth pony who was bending to the will of the tiny little pegasus mare in his head that only he could see. No Goddesses, just psychoses.

Ignoring the both of them, I stuck my head into my saddlebag and withdrew one of the syringes of Med-X in my mouth and frowned down at the stallion. Then I bent down and jabbed the earth pony in his shoulder with the hypodermic medication. His string of pleas were monetarily interrupted by the wince this caused, and then I heard him let out a slow, relieved, breath. He glanced up at me in confusion, silent in the face of the incomprehensible.

Without an explanation, as I had little reason to believe that these two were inclined to trust anything that I told them anyway and arguing with them was just going to take time that neither of these two had, I bent down and shoved myself under the prone stallion. The unicorn filly was knocked aside as her prayers turned into demands for me to stop what I was doing and leave them alone. The gray earth pony protested too, but between limbs that could not effectively move and a body that wasn't feeling very much any more, it wasn't hard to keep him centered on my back.

I looked over at the younger filly, “can you walk?” at first she didn't respond to my question. Probably because she hadn't heard it over her desperate cries for mercy, so I repeated the question more loudly. The yellow unicorn balked. Then my question finally seemed to get processed through her head. Her bewildered response was little more than a vague nod as she tried to grasp what was going on. The stereo ticking on both mine and the younger stallion's pipbucks prompted me to frown. I didn't have time to let her get her minds sorted if I was going to be taking anything but a pair of corpses to that shelter.

I bent down and grabbed up the little unicorn filly by scruff behind her neck with my teeth. The yellow pony issued forth a surprised little 'eep!' as I picked her up off of the ground. After she reallized what was happening, she began to protest and struggle, pleading rather adamantly for me to put her down. Her older brother, likewise, started trying to bargain for her safety from my backside.

My response to him was to grumble around the yellow tuft of hide gripped in my teeth, “the only way you'll be able to save her is by not struggling so much. If you fall off, I'll just leave you behind,” I then turned around and started walking out of the ancient cafe.

The little filly continued to struggle, craning her head around in an attempt to get a view of her brother; though that was only so that she could beg him to actually dislodge himself and run away from the two of us, rather than make any attempt to rescue her. I rolled my eyes and simply continued making my way across the street towards the open metal hatch that would hopefully lead the three of us to some measure of sanctuary from this radiation.

I felt something rather clumsily hit my hindquarters. Arching a brow, I turned my head and saw that the gray stallion was making a woefully hilarious effort to try and beat me into submission with kicks and hoof strikes that were obviously causing him far more pain than they were ever going to cause me. If the sight wasn't so pitiful, I'd be tempted to laugh my head off. As if was, I just took it as a sign that he probably wasn't as close to death's door as he looked. He might live to see tomorrow yet. The filly would be thrilled.

Once at the hatch, I carefully deposited the filly on the ground, ignoring the repeated strikes from her brother all the while. Then I nudged the little unicorn, “let's go, get down in there out of this damn radiation,” then I glanced at the struggling earth pony, “you're going to want to hold still while I close the hatch, or you're just going to end up falling down the stairs.”

Only at this moment did the two of them take the time to really examine what was going on. The earth pony finally seemed to register what his pipbuck had been frantically screaming at him this whole time and exchanged a look with the unicorn filly. The pair glanced at me, perplexed, and then back at each other. Still, neither of them really seemed to acknowledge what I'd said.

I let out an exasperated groan, “oh, for fuck's-!” I reached into my saddlebags and pulled out a bottle of Rad-X and a bag of RadAway. I made certain that both of them could see the medicine, and them I tossed them down into the shelter, “there! Go get it!” I yelled at the filly.

Another brief exchange of glances, but then the pair seemed to conclude that while they couldn't understand why the psychopath that had assaulted them earlier was suddenly trying to help them out; perhaps it was at least a mystery that was best solved while they were somewhere safe rather than out in the open surrounded by deadly magical radiation. Though she kept cautious eyes on me, the filly finally descended into the shelter. I let myself sigh with relief and backed down the shelter's stairs, carefully keeping the stallion balanced on my spine, and pulled the hatch closed behind us.

Almost instantly, my pipbuck's radiation detector died down from a steady stream of ticks to an intermittent tock every few seconds. I turned on my pipbuck's light to help fight back the darkness that consumed me and made my way down the rest of the stairs. Finally inside the shelter, I took a few moments to appraise my surroundings and see what was left to work with in this place.

It looked like it was a single open bay for the most part. A row of bunk beds lined each wall with small trunks in front of them. Nearby were a few shelves with scattered food and basic supplies like spark batteries and lamps. Many of the bunks looked to have been used, though certainly not recently. Likewise, most of the cans of food had been opened and lay discarded on the floor. It seemed that this shelter had seen some use in the past. Nopony looked to be living here now though.

I made my way over to the nearest of those bunks. Between the two of us working in concert, the gray stallion managed to not get dropped onto the floor while he slid onto the mattress. I rooted through my saddlebags once more and took out a healing potion. Initially, I just set it on the floor while I looked over the extent of the other earth pony's injuries, “which of your legs did I break?”

The stallion glowered at me, but he glanced down at his right foreleg. I carefully ran a hoof over the limb, frowning when the gray pony instinctively withdrew it from my grasp. He yelped at the pain the sudden movement induced. It took a few seconds of light tugging and frowns before he allowed me to coax the limb out again. After gently palpating the leg, I determined that it wasn't so much broken as it was just badly fractured. So I turned my attention to his jaw. I prompted him to look directly at me so that I could judge how deformed his mandible had become. The right side of his jawbone hung perceptibly lower than the left. I winced in sympathy; that had to hurt.

“You're not going to like this,” I warned him. Before explaining any further, I placed both of my hooves on his jaw and pushed the offending side outward and up in a single, smooth, motion. As predicted, the stallion screamed and recoiled with pain. Even through his anguished string of expletives, I could hear that his ability to articulate had been much improved. For somepony so young, this stallion was rather creative with his swearing.

Only now did I pick up the healing potion that I'd retrieved earlier and place it near him on the bed, “drink up,” I also fished out a bag of RadAway for him to wash the potion down with. The earth pony glared at me, massaging his sore jaw with his left hoof, but he drank the potion. I heard a few muffled snaps and pops as bones were knitted back together; all the while the stallion cringed and winced as he felt his insides mend themselves with the aid of the magical tincture. When it was all over, he sighed with obvious relief and picked up the bag of orange fluid.

It was now that I directed my attention elsewhere, seeking out the little unicorn filly. She was nowhere in sight, and neither was the medicine that I had tossed down. I frowned and rolled my eyes once more. I didn't really blame her for being skittish, but I at least wish she had decided to stay nearby until I was able to make sure that at was really safe down here. Besides, it's not like she could really hide from me down here. I glanced to my left, at the single yellow dot on the visual overlay that my pipbuck provided.

“I don't suppose you want your stuff back?” I asked the the filly, looking in her direction even though I couldn't actually see her through the darkness despite the soft glow of my pipbuck's light. I dug through my saddlebags and pulled out the gear and coveralls that the filly had given me earlier. I placed them on the floor in front of me and kicked them anemically in her direction. The unicorn didn't seem inclined to make a move to retrieve them. Which was fine.

I was going to have to give her another little scare though. The shelter wasn't all that wide, and there wasn't a lot of room to maneuver between the bunks either. I rummaged through the nearby shelves, taking a few intact cans and boxes of food. Cram, Sugar Apple Bombs, the usual fair; I also went ahead and turned on one of the lamps. It provided a lot more illumination than my pipbuck did, but I left the little device's light on all the same. I was going to need it as I ventured deeper into the shelter. The lamp I left near the stallion, who had nearly finished draining the bag of radiation treatment and was still watching me with intense suspicion.

Those two would probably feel a lot better about their situation if I wasn't standing between them and the only way out, I noted as I momentarily glance at the door behind me. So I walked calmly between the rows of bunks towards the far end. I heard the filly before I saw her as she clambered beneath the bunk that she'd been cowering behind and out the other side. At nearly the same moment, I heard the stallion stumble off the mattress and fall to the floor as he unsuccessfully tried to move too quickly on aching limbs in an effort to 'save his sister' from me. I came to a stop and looked between the pair. The stallion managed to get to his feet, and though they were a little unsteady, he certainly looked to be moving a lot better than he had been on the way here. The filly's steps were still a little stiff though where her hindquarters were concerned. I winced at the memory and withdrew another healing potion.

Placing the purple liquid on the mattress of the bed that she'd just scrambled under, I looked at the yellow unicorn, “this should help with the...you know...” the filly looked away and I noticed her subtly slide her hind legs closer together.

Then I cleared my throat and continued walking, “I'm not going to force you two to stay here; but you should at least wait for the radiation to go away before you leave,” it was only about twenty bunks from one end to the other. I wondered if all of the shelters in this town were so small. Either the ponies hadn't counted on a lot of survivors, or they might have a lot of these refuges scattered throughout the city. In either case, I sought out a clean-ish looking bed near the far end of the shelter and climbed into it. It was nice to finally lay down after a day like this one. With a grunt, I rolled over onto my back and let my legs hang loosely to the side, relishing the weight being taken off my limbs. My spine appreciated the comfort as well. It had taken a fair beating today, between Foxglove and the hospital.

Ooh...there was a reunion I wasn't looking forward to. I idly wondered what the odds were that the purple unicorn would let me say even a single word before she tried to lop my head off with that eldrich lance of hers. Probably a lot less in my favor if she had managed to find some way to recharge it back up to a more optimal energy level. That reminded me: I needed to keep my eyes peeled for some energy packs for that beam pistol I'd found in Wind Rider's desk. I didn't have much experience with such weapons, but there was no denying that it would have been useful against those timberwolves.

I closed my eyes and started going over possible scenarios for when I got back to the freight depot. If Windfall was already dead, then it was a no-brianer: turn around and leave as fast as possible. If the pegasus was still alive though, I'd need some way to let the unicorn know that I wasn't there to cause any more trouble before she killed me. Perhaps if I strolled up without any weapons or even my barding, carrying an elixir in my mouth? Hopefully Foxglove wasn't feeling particularly vindictive...

Speaking of...

I frowned. Even with my eyes closed, the pipbuck's EFS overlay endured, which meant that I could clearly see the single red blip that was moving closer to me. That and the sound of the hoofsteps trying to be very quiet on the concrete floor of the shelter. From the weight that the sounds suggested, it was the stallion. It looked like he had regained a fair bit of his courage. I was a little curious about what he had chosen as a weapon, since I didn't recall him being armed before.

With a sigh, I willed the pipbuck to engage SATS, and opened my eyes. The gray stallion was creeping towards me, a length of pipe clutched in his mouth. Hardly much of a threat there. Curious, I glanced in the filly's direction as well. The little yellow unicorn was standing on the far side of the shelter looking rather uncertain about the whole thing. Something told me that she had not been on board with this plan. My eyes went back to the creeping earth pony. He had some balls on him, especially considering how this had all gone for him the first time. Perhaps he supposed that he would have a much better chance if he caught me napping?

Let's find out. I closed my eyes and allowed time to flow at its normal pace, “the little unicorn insisted that the two of you weren't raiders,” I said, listening with a measure of delight as I heard the stallion stumbled slightly and come to a halt, “so I know you're not about to attack the pony helping you while he's sleeping, right?”

There was no immediate verbal response, nor did I hear any additional hoof-steps. I opened my eyes and craned my head up in the bed, glancing at the stallion. The gray earth pony was standing in the narrow passage between the bunks, regarding me with uncertain eyes, the pipe still held in his mouth. I stared at him in silence, really hoping that I wasn't going to have to cripple him again after having given him a healing potion.

Seeming to suspect that things were unlikely to go very well for her elder sibling, the unicorn filly cantered up behind him, “I told you it was a stupid idea, Plate! Just drop the pipe,” now she looked at me with pleading eyes, “we're sorry! We're really sorry, I swear!

“Tell him you're sorry,” she said to her elder brother, sounding almost desperate, “now!”

The stallion dropped the pipe and opened his mouth, but before he could offer up whatever forced apology he was going to come up with I was already waving them away with a dismissive hoof as I lay my head back down, “I really don't care. I'm not interested in hurting either of you,” any more than I already have, at least, “so let's just wait out the radiation, huh?”

At least the stallion's red blip went yellow again. We'd see how long that was going to last before he got another wild hair up his ass and tried to do something that I was going to be forced to make him regret. The sooner the radiation passed and we could part ways, the better.

I noticed that neither of the blips on my EFS had moved, so I opened up my eyes again and regarded the pair of ponies. The larger gray earth pony was trying to encourage the smaller unicorn to come with him as far away from me as the shelter would allow them to, but for some reason the filly was reluctant to leave at that precise moment. She finally pushed herself away from her older brother and took a step towards me over the earth pony's hushed objections. I frowned at the little filly, but said nothing. This would be novel.

Her tail was plastered to her backside, and her hind legs were still awkwardly close together. Flecks of dried blood were still visible on the back of her calves. Being this close to me was obviously making her uncomfortable. I couldn't understand why somepony like her wasn't doing exactly what her older brother was suggested and getting as far from me as possible. I was the pony that had hurt her, while threatening to end the life of her brother in order to keep her pliable. She should hate me. She should fear me. I should be the image that haunted her nightmares for years to come.

“Thank you for the medicine.”

And that was it. Once she'd said her piece, she turned around and started walking away; much to her brother's obvious relief.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, preparing to roll over and get back to my well-deserved nap before something else came along and interrupted things. Which is exactly what I would have done, had a pair of blue eyes shadowed by a pink mane not been peering at me from deep within my subconscious. With a frustrated grunt, I turned my head to the pair of retreating ponies.

“You're welcome,” which wasn't all that Yellow Bitch wanted me to say, as it turned out, “and I'm sorry...about...you know,” I immediately rolled over and found the nearby wall of concrete blocks incredibly fascinating. I'd said what the statue wanted, and that was that. Nothing more needed to be commented on. The matter could be dropped. Forever.

My ear twitched, picking up something that the stallion had mumbled under his breath. I didn't catch all of it, but I doubted that it was intended to be particularly flattering. Which was fine, and I could hardly fault the earth pony for feeling that way. It wasn't any matter that I was inclined to press either. So I remained silent and kept my attention away from either of the other ponies. From the sound of things, that unicorn filly didn't feel the same way though, and I heard her making some hushed and frantic demands of her older sibling.

“No, I will not 'shut up',” the stallion insisted far more loudly. I really wished he would though. There was no way that any of this was going to go 'well' for anypony concerned, “it's not 'alright' just because he apologizes or gives us medicine or brought us into this shelter,” was he going somewhere with this? Honestly, I felt like it was going to be hard for him to paint me as the villain at this point, “he raped you!” well, there was that, I suppose, “how can you be okay with that?!”

If the filly was going to supply an answer of her own, I didn't give her the chance. I wanted this conversation over with as quickly and painlessly as possible; and it wasn't like I didn't have any insight into these matters, “she's not,” I responded, loud enough for the both of them to hear me, even though I wasn't looking in their direction, “she just wants to forget it ever happened so that, maybe, some day in the distant future, she can pretend that something like that never happened to her and she can get on with her life.

“Because, otherwise, the memory of it could end up consuming her; filling her with emotions that she doesn't understand, can't rationalize, and ultimately won't know how to deal with,” I went on, speaking in an even tone so as not to betray the many memories that were sifting through my mind, “until, one day, she finally snaps. Maybe it'll be a little thing, where she just descends into an all-consuming depression that leads to suicide. Maybe it'll be worse, and she'll decide that every stallion needs to die so that nothing like that ever happens again.

“Maybe she'll even start with you. Who knows? The point is: she doesn't either. She just wants to put it behind her, and forget.

“Maybe you should let her.”

If I thought that would be enough to deter the stallion, it seemed that I was wrong. A shame, “I'm not about to let you get away with what you did to her!”

I sighed and rolled off the bed. The gray earth pony took a hesitant half step back, but otherwise held his ground. That took some measure of guts, given what he knew I could do to him, and the fact that I was obviously armed while he was not. I didn't bear right down on the pair of them. A fight wasn't what I was after, not right now. Not against a pair of ponies like these, whose deaths weren't going to help me in the slightest.

My eyes bored into the stallion's, “and what are you going to do? Fight me again? That went so well that last time, as I recall,” the earth pony seemed a little less convinced of his current plan, which was good. I might well diffuse this whole thing yet without having to kill anypony. Flutter Bitch should appreciate that, “if I end up killing you this time, who's going to look out for...” I craned my head down towards the filly, “ Mehwybell?”

“Merrybell,” the unicorn corrected softly, shuffling a little further behind her brother under my gaze. Her tail was tucked tight down between her hind legs.

“Right,” I looked back at the stallion, “I'm not saying that an apology makes everything all square between us. Nothing ever will, and I won't pretend otherwise. But right here and now is not when you want to make an issue of this.

“You want to defend your sister's honor? Fine. That's all good and noble of you. I suggest you get your hooves on some weapons, assemble a team, and hunt me down all proper like,” a smirk crept its way onto my face, “there's even a five thousand bit bounty in it for you if you manage to bring me back to the New Lunar Republic alive. It's only a thousand bits if I'm dead, but I doubt that it's really money that would satisfy you, am I right?

“In either case, this is not the best time to try and balance the scales,” I glared at the stallion, daring him to make a move against me. As was expected, he did nothing, though he kept a defiant gaze fixed in my direction, “so I suggest you and your sister go and get a little rest while you can.”

With that, I turned back around and returned to my bed. I was ready to put all of this behind me and wait for the radiation to pass in silence.

The filly, however, was not; for reasons that I couldn't fathom, “can I at least know why?”

Was she serious? As though there was a reason for things like that. The Wasteland was a cruel place where bad things happened to ponies for no rational reason. But if she needed a reason, then I'd provide her with one, “I've been wanting to rut a unicorn for a while now.”

Her brother didn't care for that answer one bit. However, it looked like he was still taking my earlier advance to heart and kept himself from physically lashing out in response. The younger filly winced, but did not remain silent, “I meant: why are you helping us now?” she corrected.

Oh. Well...that was a question that seemed to make a lot more sense, in hindsight. It was also one that I was a little more hesitant to provide an answer for. Not because I didn't know that answer, per say; but rather because these two were ill enough at ease in my presence without my divulging that I was helping them because a statue of a two hundred year dead pegasus mare told me to. Something suggested to me that I wasn't going to get away with an answer akin to, 'because I felt like it' either.

Then the image of another pegasus flashed through my mind. This one was white with a teal streaked mane that had been cropped short and deep blue eyes that glinted with a mirth a pony rarely saw in the Wasteland. Helping these two ponies was exactly the sort of thing that she'd have insisted that we do, had she been here.

There was my answer, “I'm not doing this for you,” a sad smile found its way onto my face before I could get my expression back under control; and it prompted a frown as I recognized my momentary loss of control. My eyes went back to the filly, “anything else you want to know?” the sooner I got this conversation over with, the sooner I could put all of this behind me.

The gray stallion came up and tried to usher the younger filly away from me, but it seemed that the brazen little unicorn wasn't satisfied yet. Of the two of them, I was inclined to consider her to be the stupider of the two. I was the pony that had raped her while threatening to murder her brother in front of her. Her stature suggested that she was actually still very understandably nervous about being so close to me. Pestering me with questions should not have been something that she was this eager to do. Yet, she persisted, “where's the nearest settlement?”

Okay, credit where it was due: that was a very prudent question. It demonstrated a respectable amount of forethought too. The two of them couldn't just stay in this place, after all, “that'd be New Reino. About a day's travel east of here,” then I thought for another moment. Frankly, that place wouldn't be the best place for a couple of stable ponies like them. Unarmed and underfunded as they were, the stallion would probably end up dead within a week, and the filly...well, suffice it to say that what she experience today would soon be buried beneath a hundred far more traumatic encounters. Ponies as young and naive as them didn't last long in a place like that town.

I recalled Foxglove's own tale of her first days in New Reino; and didn't see any reason why these two stable ponies should fair any better. A place like Shady Saddles or even Seaddle would be better for them. Not by much though. Finding work would be hard, and it wasn't like younger ponies weren't exploited in the NLR either. Honestly, unless you had somepony decent watching out for you, it was hard to get a decent start out in the Wasteland. Not that I knew a lot of decent ponies that would be open to taking on a pair of former stable dwellers. These two might have received a fairly decent education where they'd grown up, but that hardly equated to any sort of practical experience.

In fact, other than a few select locations around Seaddle, the only place I knew of where anypony's education might be appreciated was...

“Either of you any good with Old World machinery or electronics?” I asked of the two young ponies.

They exchanged looks, and then the filly answered, pointing towards her older brother, “Diamond Plate's a welder.”

“In that case, you'll want to go to McMaren. It's a bit further east—about a week's hike—but it'd be better for the two of you. Ask for a mare named, Homily, and tell her that Jackboot sent you. She'll take care of you,” a mare as idealistic as that one would surely see to it that these two were well cared for and protected. Especially if the older stallion might be able to help her and her companions rebuild and improve the transmission equipment there.

“As though we could trust your friends,” the stallion said, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Homily ain't one of my friends, pal,” I glowered at the earth pony, “and you shouldn't trust anypony out in the Wastes; least of all me,” I allowed myself a little chuckle as I saw the gray stallion's dumbfounded expression, “I'm just giving you some options. Take 'em, leave 'em; it's your hides on the line,” my eyes went back to the filly, prompting her for any additional inquiries.

“Thanks,” was her response, “we'll think about it,” the little unicorn tugged on her brother's sleeve and the two of them withdrew to the far side of the shelter.

Finally. Once again, I allowed myself to assume a comfortable position on the bed and prepare for a few hours of peace. The unicorn filly finally approached her saddlebags, which I had left on the floor near the entrance. The first item that she withdrew was her set of blue and yellow stable coveralls. She held them up with her magic, turning them in the air as though to ensure that they had not suffered too seriously in the scant two hours since she had given them to me. The '137' emblazoned upon the back flashed briefly before leaving my field of view. I was hit with a mild sensation of deja vu. I felt like I recognized that number, but I couldn't quite place where.

Windfall and I had seen plenty of stable uniforms in our time wandering the Neighvada Valley. It was possible that we'd seen somepony else sporting that particular number. Perhaps it had even been painted upon the large gear-shaped door of an abandoned Stable that we'd explored. Hard to say really. I brought my left hoof up to scratch an itch on my nose, and promptly paused. My eyes were fixed on the pipbuck on my leg.

Wait a minute...

I sat up in the bed and stared down at the screen. My right hoof immediately began tapping at the buttons on the device as I navigated my way through several screens that I typically had very little cause to view. I'd sort of accidentally found them while stumbling around in the pipbuck's menus while bored. Eventually I managed to accident my way back onto the screen that I had been seeking. A listing of the pipbuck's specifications and identifying information. It had proved useful a time or two before when trying to download information from Old World terminals onto my pipbuck for later distribution to an interested client.

This was also the screen that displayed the pipbuck's unique identification number; which contained the number indicating the specific Stable to which the device had initially been issued.

Stable 137.

It had been over eight years since I'd stumbled upon the putrefying corpse of Ten Penny, the last member of a doomed team to die in their mission to locate talisman's necessary for the survival of their Stable. I looked back at the pair of young ponies. There was no way that the two of them had spent eight years in the Wasteland; and the engineer's recordings had indicated that their mission was rather time-sensitive. He clearly hadn't succeeded at his task; perhaps other teams had been sent out?

Part of me was honestly a little curious, “did your Stable ever find that talisman they were looking for?”

Both ponies startled and turned to look at me. The filly had gotten her coveralls halfway on, but had paused as she turned to stare at me with an expression of pure confusion. The stallion was initially a little perplexed too, but his state lasted for only a few seconds, and then he was regarding me with suspicion, “how'd you know about that?”

Now his sister was looking at him to. Noticing this, he leaned closer to the filly and explained, “it was before you were born. The air talismans were failing. The Overmare sent some ponies out to try and find more,” now he was focused on me once more, “but that was years ago. How could you know about that?!”

I cracked a wry smirk and held up my pipbuck, “found one of those ponies y'all sent out,” immediately, both of the stable ponies regarded me with furious glares. I waved their ire aside, “relax, he was already dead when I found him. Somepony else shot him long before I got there,” neither pony was particularly assuaged by my assurances. Fair enough, “I take it you guys figured something out?”

At first my question was met with silence as the two exchanged looks. The appeared to be deciding how much they were willing to share with me. After a few hushed exchanges, they must had decided that whatever information they were able to offer wasn't exactly going to be anythign devastating to their old home, “not really,” the gray earth pony supplied, “the air purification system failed a few months later. We were forced to open up the Stable and rig up a vent system to keep us from suffocating.

“That was when things started going bad,” he added with a pained expression.

“Something tells me things didn't collapse immediately,” I glanced at the filly, “you're what? Six? Seven?”

The little yellow unicorn shuffled behind her brother and nodded, “seven.”

Dear Old Daddy first had his fun with me around that age...

I patently ignored Whiplash's voice in my head and focused back on the older brother, “so you survived the first few years at least.”

“It wasn't easy,” the stallion glared at me, “ponies like you found us pretty soon. You attacked us just about every other week for years.”

I ignored the pointed jab, as he was mostly correct. I was exactly the sort of pony that might have organized a raid on an intact Stable; back in my youth, at least. That certainly wasn't something that Windfall would approve of though; and frankly it was a very short-sighted way to get ahead.

A more mature and enlightened Jackboot would have befriended the inhabitants; offering them goods and information on local settlements and resources in exchange for a night's rest, and maybe even a brief tour of such a wonderful paradise such as theirs. Then, after I'd traded for a few choice pieces of valuable tech, I'd have left and sought out a raider band with the intention of selling them the location of the Stable and all the information on their numbers, defenses, tactics, and armaments that I'd collected while I was there.

“Stables have a lot of valuable tech,” I acknowledged. My response did little to dampen the stallion's glower. I inclined my head, “I'm genuinely impressed you managed to hold out for so long.

“Who finally kicked you out? White Hooves? I think a band calling themselves, 'The Mountain Mares' operates in this area too. Ponies with rifles that wear rock necklaces?”

The stallion sneered at me initially, but then finally shook his head. He frowned and glanced at the floor, “it wasn't raiders. Not like any we'd ever seen before anyway,” there was a hollow expression on the filly's face now as she too recalled the ponies that had destroyed her life in the Stable she'd been born in, “they were stable ponies too. At least, they dressed like they were from a Stable.”

I quirked an eyebrow. Now that was something I had not expected to hear. I wasn't aware of any Stable raider groups in the valley. This must have all happened to the pair rather recently of course, so maybe this was a new arrival on the raider scene? I was spurred to press the two ponies for further information now. If I could get this information to the right ponies before it became common knowledge...

...maybe it would even be enough to buy me protection from bounty hunters in New Reino. Scratch might have those sorts of connections, and he was exactly the sort that would appreciate having the inside track on this development.

“What Stable?”

Diamond Plate shook his head, “I don't know. I never got a clear look at their uniforms. Only a couple of them ever came into the Stable that first time.”

“First time?” they'd made multiple raids?

“We didn't know they were raiders,” the stallion shrugged, “they were just like us, and they said they wanted to trade. They offered food and water and medicine for some information,” he thought hard for a moment, “I think all they wanted were some history files or something like that. I heard one of the nurses talking about 'medical histories',” he frowned and looked back up at me, “the amount of stuff they gave us...it didn't make sense at first; because they hardly asked for anything really valuable in return.”

I was confused at first too. Information had value like any physical piece of tech; it all depended on the pony doing the buying and what that information was. But for ponies from one Stable to just want some history files from another Stable? That didn't make much sense to me either, until I thought about it a little more, “you said they were walking around the inside of your Stable?” the gray earth pony nodded, and I smiled, “they were scouting you out.”

He nodded in agreement, “I guess.”

“Do you remember what types of weapons they used in the attack?” the more details I could squeeze out these two, the more leverage I would have with Scratch or any other potential benefactor when I got back.

Unfortunately, the pair shook their heads. The stallion cringed, “we...weren't there,” oh? I asked them to elaborate, “we'd never been outside of the Stable before,” he explained, “but our uncle would tell us about it. He said there were these gross looking bugs that floated in the air. We'd never seen anything that floated before; so we...snuck out one day,” he swallowed and reached down to comfort the little filly whose eyes had begun to tear up now, “when we got back...”

The unicorn burst into tears now, and buried her face into her brother's side. The older pony wrapped his hooves around her and drew the filly in close, gently placing a kiss on the top of her head. He then looked back up at me and sneered, “they were monsters. Our friends weren't even fighting back anymore by the time we got back. Those ponies had...done something to them. They were all unconscious.

“We watched as they dragged out every pony in the the Stable and lined them up in neat little rows,” the filly continued to sob into his chest as he related the grisly tale. Admittedly, even I was growing a little uncomfortable hearing him tell it, “then a group of them started walking down the line. Some of them they picked out and a team would load them into a cart. The rest...they stabbed in the head and left them out in the open, like garbage!”

Woah. That was pretty dark, even for most of the raider bands that I knew about. It was also...very strange behavior for any raider. If you had an entire population incapacitated, then why only take some of them? I mean, I guess not every pony made for a suitable slave; but even if you're going to be that picky, why kill everypony you leave behind? Especially if beating them that first time was as easy as the stallion was making it sound. Keep them around as a long-term source of chattle. Cull the worthwhile ponies to make them slaves every few years, leave the rest to breed replacements. You could fund your tribe for generations with that sort of system.

If you wiped out the local population entirely, then all you'd ever get are those few ponies from that raid. It didn't make any sense from the point of view of ponies operating in the long term; which these ponies obviously were, to an extent. Instead of just attacking upon first making contact, they orchestrated a ruse to get them in and have a look around to make a proper assault later. That suggested long-term planning of a dedicated raiding/slaving outfit. The later genocide...that was out of place.

I looked back at the stallion, still pondering the motives of these strange Stable raiders, “and you don't know where they were from?”

“I never got a clear look at they're barding,” the gray pony repeated, “but they were weird looking,” I cocked my head and waited for him to explain. If they had a distinctive style of dress or marking themselves, maybe I could scout around and find them myself later, “the unicorns had two horns.”

I blinked, my prior train of thought derailed. Had he just said, “two...horns?”

Wasn't that sort of impossible? Not merely from a technical standpoint—as a pony with two horns couldn't really be a 'unicorn'—but also from a biological one. Ponies—unicorn ponies—didn't have two horns. Maybe they hadn't been ponies after all? Did he mean a Minotaur?

I asked him as much, but he vigorously shook his head, “no. These were ponies, I'm sure of it. But they did have two horns,” he insisted as he elaborated further, “they had a horn like a regular unicorn, but then, just in front of it was a second, smaller, horn. It was like a filly's horn or something.”

Hmm. So, it could still be something cosmetic. Unicorns that wore the horns of victims as a sign of...something? It wasn't unheard of for White Hoof warriors to wear trophies from kills or conquered ponies. Maybe these weird raiders from a Stable did something similar? It was certainly something that would make them stand out if somepony saw them.

Ponies from a Stable somewhere out there, whose unicorns wore a second horn on their heads, engaging in selective slavery, killed anypony they didn't enslave, had large enough stockpiles of food, water, and medicine to entice a Stable into letting them come inside...it was a heck of a list of attributes. Frankly, it made this group pretty unique in a lot of ways. They should be easy enough to find and track. When I had a positive location, I'd sell it to Scratch in exchange for protection.

“You two are lucky to be alive,” I nodded. The stallion didn't seem to think that I was being particularly sincere, and the filly was still sniffling into her brother, “you've got a lot to learn about the Wasteland though. You'll want to get to McMaren as quick as you can.”

My ear twitched. Not because I heard something curious; but rather because I was now very aware of a sound that I wasn't hearing anymore. I glanced at the radiation detector on my pipbuck. It wasn't so much as twitching anymore, and was completely silent. Curious, I let myself off of the bed and slowly made my way to the side of the shelter that had the hatch. The two younger ponies shrunk away at my approach.

“Just checking outside for a bit,” I assured them, making a show of staying as far from the two of them as the narrow walkway would allow. It really was for show, as the cramped confines meant that I inevitably passed close enough that I could easily have reached out and touched the pair. The stallion tucked his younger sister behind him, who had ceased her crying now and was regarding me with frightened eyes as I walked by.

I climbed the stairs and paused just beneath the heavy metal hatch. I lifted the pipbuck up until it was touching the door, and still heard no chatter from the Old World device. I pushed the hatch open a crack. Now there was a clicking sound, but it was sparse, and intermittent. The rads that it registered me as being exposed to would be easily combated with just a mild dose of Rad-X. Traveling wouldn't be particularly dangerous for me. The two other ponies might want to wait a bit longer though.

A week of traveling though the brutal deathtrap that was the Wasteland wasn't going to be easy for them. Especially without weapons, or barding, or healing potions. They'd be lucky to survive another day or two. I may have saved them from dying of radiation poisoning, but ultimately, I had just momentarily delayed the inevitable. Those two didn't have a real chance of making it out here. Not equipped as they were. The older gray stallion had the heart and the will, in some respects. It was just a question of tools. Rebar and pipes weren't going to keep him and his sister safe.

Yellow Bitch was of a mind to take them with me. As if. Ignoring that there was no conceivable way that I would ever be able to convince them to come with me; the last thing I needed was for either of these two to be there when I got back to the freight depot. As pissed off as Foxglove was going to be to see me as things stood now, my odds of survival were bound to drop dramatically when I introduced her to the filly that I'd raped this morning. That certainly wasn't the sort of thing that was going to stay a secret for any length of time.

There was a momentary flash of sapphire eyes framed in white, and a mare's voice, Be Generous...

Windfall would help these two if she was here. I couldn't guarantee their survival no matter what I did; but I could give them a fighting chance. Ultimately, they would have to earn their arrival at McMaren or wherever they decided to go, but I could set them up with better odds than they had right now. It would cost me a bit, but...

Let's face it: I was about to walk myself into a situation where being struck down on sight by a justifiably irate violet unicorn was pretty even odds. If that happened, it wasn't like everything I was carrying was going to do me a whole heap of good anyway.

I sighed and stepped back down the stairs. My eyes went to the pair of young ponies that had migrated a couple bunks down in the time I'd been up there. Both were regarding me intently. With a wry smile, I drew my pistol. It was mildly satisfying to see the two of them tense up and cower away slightly as they saw the weapon in my mouth.

Ooh, you can scare a couple of stable ponies, Whiplash jeered, aren't we just the 'Terror of the Wasteland'?

My expression instantly soured and I placed the weapon on the nearby mattress. Three additional magazines full of ammunition and a box of four dozen loose 9mm rounds soon followed. If that stallion couldn't keep the two of them alive with this, they didn't deserve to make it. I turned to leave.

Be Generous...

I grunted and faced the mattress again. Dipping my head into my saddlebags once more, I emerged with two bottles of healing potion and deposited them next to the pistol and ammunition. That would leave me with only a pair of the traditional healing potions for myself and the others when I returned. I hesitated now, daring that new voice to say anything more. When all that greeted me was a contented silence, I let out a derisive snort and whirled around towards the exit and stalked towards it.

“I suggest stocking up on all the food you can carry,” I said in a frustrated tone that must have seemed rather oddly misdirected to the two ponies I was speaking to. I motioned towards the shelves that were mounted nearby, “travel at night, and watch your EFS.

“If you go through New Reino, don't stay long,” I stressed, “nopony there's your friend, and slavery's legal.”

With those final pearls of wisdom and advice, I threw open the shelter's hatch and emerged once more into the deserted city of Old Reino. My pipbuck popped infrequently as it detected traces of magical radiation in the surrounding air. I glanced around to confirm that nothing menacing was nearby, then closed the door on the other two ponies and oriented myself onto a northerly course. I glanced at the time noted on my pipbuck.

Windfall wasn't likely to have survived this long without medical treatment. Odds were good that the flier was dead and gone and that going back wouldn't accomplish anything. All it would do was put my own life in danger. I'd given away my pistol, leaving me only with Full Stop and the few spare rounds that I had for it. I was low on food and medical supplies, and going back would just put me in danger of being killed by Foxglove.

I had nothing to gain by going back.

A wan smile tugged at my cheek. I wasn't doing it for me, though; was I?

My head shook from side to side in resignation as I broke out into a canter, heading north out of the ruins.

It felt almost like it took me as much time to work up the courage to got into the large warehouse as it had to get all the way back here from the ruins of Old Reino. I'd slowed to a trot when Foxglove's blip appeared on my EFS. Least-ways, I presumed it to be the unicorn's blip. It was a solid red bar that lay in close proximity to a yellow one. The friendly reading surely had to be Windfall, who was somehow still holding on to life. Either that or Foxglove was fighting some monster and bore me no additional ill will. If that yellow dot was Windfall, there was no way that the nearby threat could be anything other than Foxglove; I couldn't see the unicorn leaving the flier's side for any reason until Windfall was well and truly dead.

Abiding by the plan that I had settled on, I shucked off my worn barding and folded into a neat pile. Hopefully I'd be able to come back for it later. Full Stop and my saddlebags were added to the stack of my possessions. The only think I brought with me was one of the precious purple and golden elixirs that I'd found in the old hospital. Now I was walking slowly towards the large front door of the depot, my gaze locked on the pair of blips my pipbuck indicated.

From the doorway, I could see that Foxglove hadn't remained completely idle in my absence. She'd dragged out a mattress from the bunk room and laid the dying pegasus upon it in an effort to make her more comfortable and stop the cold concrete floor from sucking away Windfall's precious remaining body heat. Sheets had been torn apart and re-purposed into bandages to bind all of the flier's wounds. Nearby was a small pill of used strips that were completely saturated with blood. The violet unicorn was laying nearby her terminal patient, her head resting on the mattress as she gently stroked Windfall's blood-crusted mane.

My eyes rested on the alabaster pegasus for several long seconds. I'd barely even acknowledged her when I'd come to earlier. It hadn't seemed important at the time, how much the young mare had suffered for my sake. Looking at her now though...it was a miracle that she had somehow even made it back to us at all. Most of her wounds were clearly bullet holes, of which the shear number were staggering. However, I saw singed feathers and raking tracks of shrapnel wounds that suggested the pegasus had been in the proximity of at least one explosion as well. Whoever she'd run into, they'd had some pretty heavy ordinance.

I reached up and rapped my hoof on the doorjamb.

Foxglove's head jerked up with a start and she looked over her shoulder in the direction of the unexpected sound. For a brief moment, the unicorn didn't seem to know what to make of me. Clearly, she hadn't anticipated that she'd actually ever see me again; or, if she had, certainly not nearly quite so soon after driving me away. Her inaction did not last though. Once the violet mare recovered from her surprise, she was very quickly on her hooves, standing protectively between myself and her patient. A pair of familiar submachine gun flew up off the ground and took up positions just in front of her, their barrels bearing down on me.

“You...!” the unicorn's single word was filled with so much hatred and malice that it could have been formal anethema from Princess Celestia Herself. It actually made me wince beneath the quantity of vileness the mare had somehow managed to attach to it.

I had very little time to make my case before my body's flesh-to-lead ratio suddenly reached a pointedly 'unhealthy' concentration. I threw myself to the ground, making myself as narrow of a target as I could, taking the elixir in my hooves and holding it up above my head, “don't!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, cringing in anticipation of an imminent and violent death, “medicine! Windfall!”

Sentences, Jackboot, try to create sentences.

A couple of heartbeats passed in which I wasn't killed, so I seized upon whatever grace had kept the unicorn's magic from emptying those two automatic weapons into my hide and uttered a slightly more coherent explanation for my presence in this place which Foxglove had so recently banished me from.

“I've got some potions that will help Windfall,” I placed the bottle that I was holding on the ground and gave it a tiny shove further into the depot's interior. My eyes regarded Foxglove cautiously, searching for any sign that she might dismiss my efforts and I might be forced to beat a hasty retreat. I would not describe the unicorn's reception to my presence as anything short of 'icy', but I wasn't dead yet!

“I'm unarmed,” I assured her, gesturing to my obvious lack of any weapons or other equipment, “I'm not here to hurt anypony,” which I'm sure was something that she was completely ready to believe without hesitation, “just...please. Take that,” I motioned to the elixir, “and help Windfall.”

“I told you,” Foxglove snarled in a trembling voice, “that if I ever saw you again, I would end you!” it sounded clear from the bitter rage dripping off her every word that that was exactly what she wanted to do.

I cringed, half expecting her to do it right then and there; but something was making her hesitate, and I had to take full advantage of that sliver of reluctance that was staying her hoof, “save Windfall now; and you can deal with me later. I have more potions hidden outside. They're all yours.

“Just help her,” I looked over at the flier, who looked like she could already be dead. The only indication I had that she wasn't yet was the yellow bar overlaying my vision.

A moment of silence and inaction from the unicorn. Then the bottle in front of me bean to glow with a soft green light and floated away. It drifted in front of Foxglove and the mare scrutinized the contents. She glanced back at me, “what is this stuff? It's not a healing potion.”

“I found it in an Old World hospital,” I explained, encouraged by the fact that she was actually conversing with me and not shooting, “it's a healing elixir. It's supposed to be a lot better than regular potions. I have another one outside if it's not enough.”

Foxglove still appeared a little dubious of my claims and didn't make any moves to administer the draught to the ailing flier, “what, do you think I really came all the way back here just to poison her?” the unicorn's expression now suggested that she, in fact, did not believe that was likely to have been the purpose of my return here. Which was encouraging, “it'll make her better, I swear,” presuming Windfall wasn't too far gone far even the pinnacles of Old World medicine to heal, at least.

The unicorn glared at me for another brief moment, weighing my claim. Then she delivered her ultimatum, “if she dies, you die.”

I vigorously nodded my head, “absolutely!”

The proposal at least suggested that there was a clear chance that Foxglove wasn't going to just gun me down out of spite even if the elixir worked as advertised. One of the submachine guns maintained a steady bead on me while the violet mare stepped closer to the unconscious pegasus. The bottle drifted down to the flier's lips. I found myself watching with bated breath as Foxglove very slowly and carefully dribbled the multicolored contents of the vial into Windfall's mouth. It was a tedious process that felt like it took hours, though it was probably less than a full minute in reality.

Celestia, I've never asked you for much. Mostly because I'm sure that you'd sooner piss down my throat than glance in my direction; but I'm asking now. Don't do it for me, because I know you never would. Do it for that little pegasus that wants to save the whole fucking Wasteland and make sure no filly ever has to go through what she did.

Let her live. Please.

It was hard to tell if it was even working at all beneath all of the bandages that the pegasus was wrapped in. I couldn't see her wounds closing, and she was so pale anyway that it'd be hard to tell if her color was getting any better from this distance. Foxglove had her hoof resting lightly on the younger mare's throat, feeling her pulse.

Suddenly the pegasus stirred. It was so small a thing. Just the tiniest twitch of her wingtip; but it was the most movement that I'd seen out of the flier. Foxglove noticed it too, and I heard her issue a little gasp that was soon choked up into a barely contained sob. Blue eyes slowly fluttered open and looked up at the unicorn, which only prompted a less successful little hiccup of a sob from the older mare.

I saw the young pegasus' lips begin to move, and my ear twitched as it picked up Windfall's first breathless words, “did I make it in time? Is Jackboot okay?”

I didn't even notice that I'd gotten back up onto my hooves. I guess I'd been a little more anxious than I'd thought. With her focus so intently directed at Windfall's recovery, Foxglove had allowed the weapon trained upon me to drop away. Wagering that the unicorn was probably not going to straight up murder me in front of the flier at a moment like this, I risked closing the distance between us just enough so that the pegasus could get a good look at me.

“You silly little filly,” I said with a wry smile, “like some piss-ant radroach larvae was going to kill me,” I glanced over her bandaged body. The relief at seeing her dramatic improvement allowed me to maintain a playfully annoyed expression even when looking at all of the bloody bindings that still covered so much of her, “and what did you do with your barding? Do you know how expensive that stuff is? It's coming right out of your next cut.”

The pegasus made it half way through a weak laugh before her expression warped into a cringe. She might well be recovering, but the flier was obviously still a long way from healthy. She momentarily struggled to get up off the mattress, but Foxglove was quick to put a stop to that, “oh, no you don't,” the unicorn admonished as she gently pushed the pegasus back down, “you just go right on back to sleep. You don't get up until I say you can, got it?” the pegasus smiled and nodded. It looked like even that small movement had been all the evidence that Windfall needed to convince her that she wasn't quite ready to be out an about quite yet.

“Let's go and get you cleaned up,” Foxglove smiled. Her horn's glow brightened significantly as both Windfall and the mattress took on a matching aura. The unicorn lifted her charged a couple feet off the floor and escorted her towards the bunk room. She glanced over her shoulder, and behind the deceptively warm expression on her face were a pair of green eyes that stood the hairs on the back of my neck straight up, “I'll be back to deal with you in a bit,” then she and the pegasus vanished down the hall.

Was...that a subtle indication that it would best serve my continued health if I was anywhere else when she returned? Probably. It seemed that my retrieval of the tincture that brought Windfall back from death's door had bought me a reprieve from the execution that the unicorn so eagerly desired to deliver. Prudence dictated that I would be wise to accept the offered charity and make myself scarce, promptly.

That's what any sane pony would probably do in my situation. However, as has long since been evidenced: I am not a sane pony.

That wasn't to say that I simply stood my ground, of course. I did indeed take my leave of the freight depot, but only for so long as it took me to retrieve my equipment from where I had left it. If I was going to die, I wasn't going to do it naked and weaponless. That would have broken my late father's heart.

Foxglove was still away, attending to Windfall, by the time I returned. I took the opportunity afforded me by her absence to unpack a light supper. It wasn't quite evening yet, but the overcast sky would be getting darker in the near future. I really missed Seaddle at times like this. New Reino didn't have the developed agricultural infrastructure of the Republic, and while caravans capitalized on this fact in order to reap substantial profits by trading in those fresh foodstuffs, it meant that the prices for such things were exorbitant. I splurged every so often, sure; but when we lived in Seaddle, apple chips and leek soup were daily staples. Now they were rare treats.

I sighed and pulled out some Cram and a box of Sugar Apple Bombs. Damn. I'd used the last of my whiskey on the timberwolf. Did I have any Sparkle Colas...no such luck. Water it was, then. I lay down on the floor and folded my hooves in front of me, my attention on the hallway leading to the bunk room. A minute later, Foxglove stepped into view. The unicorn paused when she caught sight of me, clearly a little surprised to see that I was still around. I guess her parting comment really had been a veiled command for me to leave. Sorry to disappoint.

I smiled at the violet unicorn and waved at her.

If looks could kill, that mare wouldn't have needed the gun that still hovered at her side.

She took a sharp breath, the air hissing through her clenched jaw, which opened as she prepared to deliver what I could only presume were going to be some pointedly unkind words. Somehow the unicorn caught herself, her gaze darting briefly back the way that she had come. Rethinking her approach, Foxglove trotted gingerly towards me. Her borrowed submachine gun and fiery gaze were both locked on me. All the meanwhile, I remained perfectly still and non-threatening. I'd opted to replace the antagonizing smile I had greeted her with, and instead regarded her with some due difference to her ire.

The violet mare bent down, growling through her teeth, “what are you still doing here? Leave! I'll come up with something to tell Windfall so she won't come after you.

“Because if you're still here when she wakes up,” Foxglove's tone shifted sharply, “I'll tell her what you tried to do to me.”

Somehow, I managed to keep my expression rather even and cool. She was angry, and rightly so. I didn't want this going violently, but I did intend to remain. Running...I was here to make it no longer my 'thing' that I did whenever things got a little rough. Granted, confronting a righteously angry unicorn with a loaded gun who was threatening to divulge my past crimes to a pegasus who had once delivered the ultimatum that she would put me down herself if I ever stepped a hoof out of line again was perhaps stretching what constituted 'little', with regards to how rough the this situation was.

“No, you won't,” my response probably stunned the mare just as much as my own serenity did me. I cracked a wan smile and continued on before Foxglove could interpret my words as some sort of veiled threat, “because I'm going to do it,” the unicorn blinked, but remained silent, “and then I'm going to hope she gives me one more chance.”

“She gives you a chance?!” the mare sputtered through her consternation, “I haven't decided if you get a chance!” The levitating weapon was no longer floating beside her. With frightening speed that genuinely took me off guard, the firearm swooped in and lodged itself beneath my throat with enough force to pitch my head upwards and keep it there, allowing me only to look at the ceiling, “you tried to kill me, you asshole! Or did you forget?”

My initial response was lost in a gurgling sound that was all that would escape my mouth at first. I slowly rose up onto my hooves in an effort to reduce the pressure and allow myself to form coherent words. Foxglove levitated the gun up with me and ensured that, even standing, I wasn't able to look directly at her. At least I could finally speak though, “nope, didn't forget,” I choked out, “Lost my mind. Sorry. For all of it.”

She was going to shoot me now. I could just feel it. Fortunately, Foxglove was a little new to the whole 'guns' thing, and was making a few novice mistakes. A couple of them were that the submachine gun was with reach, and I could feel exactly where it was. It might be a little risky, but when I considered the alternative...

“You don't get to be sor-”

My head went one way, and my left hoof went another. The sound of metal striking metal cracked through the air as the hardened casing of my pipbuck sent the weapon sailing up into the air. The sudden impact broke the unicorn's magical hold upon it. A look of shock and fear crossed the mare's face as she realized that I had disarmed her. Before she could do anything to counter my attack, I coiled up and sprang into the air after the firearm.

I caught the weapon in my teeth and deftly manipulated it around until the grip was held fast in my mouth with a dexterity born from decades of experience and practice. By the time I was on the ground again, The submachine gun was set firmly between my teeth with my tongue resting on the trigger mechanism. I stared down the sights at the violet unicorn, who had only now managed to grasp enough of what had just happened to take a trepid step back.

Once the initial shock wore off, Foxglove managed to gather about her enough of her composure to put on a defiant expression and square up her posture, “I knew it. I knew this was all a load of bullshit,” I saw her hind legs tense, and the weight shift in her shoulders and hips. She was getting ready to leap at me, “you're not going to lay a hoof on her!”

The mare flung herself at me in a desperate bid to tackle me to the ground. I'd seen it coming though, and she was hardly a master of close combat. Meanwhile, I'd survived many a bout to the death before I was even fully grown. It was hardly any effort at all to step out of the way and catch her with my hooves. Applying carefully coordinated pressure, I flipped the stunned unicorn and pinned her to the ground. The air was forced from her lungs by the impact, sending the mare into a wheezing fit.

Her eyes were wide with terror as she beheld me standing over her with the weapon pointed at her face. Unable to catch her breath, she couldn't focus enough to summon even a wisp of her magic. I had her dead to rights, and she knew it. If I had managed to do this earlier this morning, the day would have gone very differently for the both of us. Judging by the expression on Foxglove's face, she was very much aware of this as well.

She summoned up a few dregs of defiance though. Her features were set, as though daring me to do it. Foxglove wanted me to prove that she had been right about me.

Ain't I the one to always disappoint the ponies in my life?

I stepped back off the mare, and was pleased to see her shocked expression. It very nearly doubled in intensity when I brought my hoof up and manipulated the various releases for the several magazines of differing ammunition and send them clattering to the floor. For good measure, I pulled back on the charging nub and sent the chambered round flipping through the air. A smack of my hoof sent the errant round clattering across the floor, and a follow-up kick scattered the nearby magazines as well.

Once the weapon was thoroughly cleared, I took several generous steps back from the prostrate unicorn and dropped the firearm entirely. If Foxglove had been surprised before, the mare was completely flabergasted now. I kicked the now impotent submachine gun back in the mare's direction, "I know I fucked up," I acknowledged, "and I get that there's no way to ever reallly apologize. I'm not even really asking you to forgive me. I just want you to give me the chance to tell Windfall what I did.

"After that," I snorted and shook my head. Yeah, what exactly was going to happen after that? I mean, I had a pretty good idea, but...

I drew Full Stop from its holster ad tossed it on the ground next to the stunned unicorn, "you can blow my brains out yourself if you want," would Windfall try to stop her? After my admission, the two mares might just as well fight for the previlidge of putting me in the ground.

While Foxglove's expression suggested that she was still quite dubious of my claims, she very quickly used her magic to secure possession of the offered weapon. It floated up between us and remained squarely pointed directly at my head. Unlike before, she kept the revolver a respectable distance from me as she very carefully got back up onto her hooves. The unicorn at least appeared to be a little bit less agitated than she had been earlier.

Hopefully I had managed to demonstrate that I wasn't possessed of malicious intent. To further evidence that point, I went ahead and lay down on the floor near the food that I had pulled out minutes before, "hungry?"

Foxglove didn't respond at first. She simply stood back, keeping the revolver trained on me as though I might attack her at a moment's notice. So I shrugged and opened up the faded box of Old World breakfast cereal, pouring out a generous mouthful. A little stale, and whatever apples before the Great War might have tasted like, the contents of this box tasted nothing like what grew on Republic farms, but it still hit the spot after a long day like the one I'd had. I continued to munch along contentedly at gunpoint while Foxglove glared on.

"When Windfall finds out what you did, she's going to kill you. You know that, right?" the mare finally said.

"Probably," I acknowledged before tossing back another hooful of cereal. The loud crunching sound it made while I chewed, combined with my blasse response, made the unicorn scowl even more deeply; which I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy seeing. While I may be genuinely contrite with regards to how I'd assaulted her earlier, I still found annoying the violet mare to be entertaining. I was likely to die when Windfall recovered; why not have a little fun while I could?

"I'm certainly hoping she won't, but I did kind of promise her I'd behave," I cracked a wan smile, "that might have been the first promise I really meant to keep, too. A shame," I shrugged and ate some more sugary orbs.

"I know I'm not a good pony," I went on, rolling some of the cereal around between my hooves, idly, "I've killed. I've stolen. I've even raided and sacked towns," I nodded my head back towards the brand on my back, "you don't get this mark by playing nice."

The unicrorn mare glared at me and was about to comment, but I cut her off, "I'm telling you this, because, believe it or not, there is—or was," I frowned, "a line that even I wouldn't cross that most White Hooves had no problem with: I wouldn't force a mare. It was the the one thing I swore I'd never do, so long as I lived."

Foxglove was understandably skeptical of my assertion, "right..."

"It's true...or, it was, anyway," I sighed, "I couldn't even stand the thought of doing that to a mare."

"I guess you got over you inhibitions then," she scoffed. Her tone suggested that she was quickly losing what little patience she may have had left where I was concerned. The revolver hovering near her didn't waver from its mark on my forehead.

"I'm going to tell you a story," I said, changing tacks in the conversation before Foxglove decided that she'd rather explain a corpse to Windfall than discuss my recent crimes, "it's about a colt that loved his little sister, and a father that would do anything for his son," I ignored the rolling of the violet mare's eyes and began my tale.

"Growing up a White Hoof isn't easy, even when you're the chief's son. In some ways, that only makes it harder. Traditionally, it's understood that the chief's oldest foal will one day take over leadership of the tribe. It doesn't always happen, but that's only when the heir is viewed by the other warriors of the tribe as being too weak to be a good leader.

"My father was the chief, and I was his oldest, so I was the defacto heir. My father spent a lot of time grooming me for that role. I was made to fight, and train, and kill from a very early age. The warriors of the tribe respected me, even as young as I was. They saw me as a good future chief.

"So as not to risk me developing any weakness, my father even had my mother executed after I was fully weened, so that she wouldn't coddle me. Steel Bit didn't want me feeling sympathetic for anypony, 'setniment will get you killed', he'd always say," this revelation finally drew a shocked expression from the unicorn. There was even a look of...not quite empathy, but perhaps a glimmer of pity. Probably more for the mare that had birthed me, than the young Jackboot who's lost his mother. She probably found it difficult to conceive of me as anything but the moster that she'd gotten to know she we'd met.

"Of course, my father was a stallion of needs, so he took another mare. She wasn't my mother, so he felt there wasn't any risk of us forming a bond. He was mostly right. Initially. As mares are want to do when they're bedded by stallions over a long period of time, she became with foal, and eventually my sister, Whiplash, was born.

"Whiplash may have been a chief's foal too, but she wasn't his first born, and thus not the heir. She was just leverage, destined to be given to one of my father's rivals to keep them in line. As such, Whiplash didn't get the same attention I did when it came to matters of fighting and bravado. So, unlike myself, my sister often found herself getting bullied by other young ponies.

"Believe it or not, I fancied myself a nobel warrior back in those days. I fought for honor and pride and all that. Very little of the killing I did was out of real malice. I was just trying to prove myself, and gain the approaval of my peers, after all. So, fighting to protect my sister, well, that felt only natural too. I was the great warrior that would one day protect the whole tribe, wasn't I? Surely, doing it for one little filly was just the first step on that path. Whiplash appreciated it, and so did her mother.

"Steel Bit, though...

"He killed her mother first. Fed her to radscorpions. He said it was because she'd turned him down for sex, but I knew better. My father suspected that she'd asked me to look after her daughter. That maybe she was even...'compensating' me for the task,” the expression on Foxglove's face suggested that she wouldn't have been surprised if it had turned out that I had entered into an arrangement similar to the one I had established with the unicorn. I chose to ignore the mare, “he didn't take another lover after he had her killed. Sort of.

"I didn't quite learn my lesson about helping Whiplash though. I got into a pretty bad fight one day with a group of ponies that were giving her a hard time. She wasn't dealing with the loss of her mother very well, and White Hooves abhore weakness, so...

“I won the fight, but you wouldn't think it to look at me,” I cracked a private smile as I recalled limping back home along side my younger sibling. "I'd barely been able to walk, so Whiplash had needed to help support me most of the way. At first, my father was thrilled. His son had beaten off a half dozen opponents with his bare hooves? When the other warriors heard about that, there'd be no question that I was fit to lead our tribe.

"Then he found out why I'd gotten in the fight in the first place. That I'd risked my life to keep my sister from being picked on, because she was too weak to help herself. That I'd gotten myself hurt for sentimental reasons, and not to deal with potential rivals to my position.

"He was furious. Instead of lashing out directly though, he figured he'd teach me a lesson in a way I'd never forget: he raped my sister."

Foxglove had no words for this. My tale began to take on a hard tone as I recalled the event, "he told me that the reason he was able to rape her, was because my protecting her had made her weak, and now there was nothing she could do to stop him from doing it. He convinced me that it was all my fault. That if I hadn't helped her, then he wouldn't have been able to do it.

"I believed him, too. Why shouldn't I have? He was my father. He'd spent his whole life making sure I grew up to be somepony strong, and that the other members of the tribe wouldn't question when the time came that I was the pony telling them what to do. I loved my father. I trusted him.

"I hated him. I hated him from that moment on, because despite everything he may have done to make certain that I wouldn't feel anything but contempt for anypony else, I had cared about Whiplash. I had cared about the little filly that needed her big brother to help her; but after that...there was nothing I could do for her. Stopping Steel Bit was...out of the question. If I confronted him in private, then he'd have just made it worse for Whiplash somehow. Doing it in public was out of the question too. If the rest of the tribe saw the friction between us, it would embolden our rivals. The both of us would be dead in weeks. Whiplash would probably be killed too, in order to take out our whole bloodline just in case.

"So I listened to her crying every night for years, and I couldn't do anything about it. Except make a promise to myself that nothing would ever push me to where I could do what my father was doing.

"I would never force myself on a mare. I would never be my father.

"None of this excuses what I did to you," the story was over, and I returned my gaze to the stunned unicorn mare whose weapon had dipped subtly towards the floor now, "and I can't explain what I was thinking when I did it. But, even if you don't believe me: I honestly hate myself for it," for that, and so much more.

"Whoever that pony was, I don't want to be them," I cast my eyes at the floor, "and if that's the kind of pony I'm turning into...I'd rather be dead anyway."

That all felt...surprisingly good, actually. A huge relief, as a matter of fact. I'd never told anypony about my upbringing before, not in full at any rate. It sure wasn't a story that I was inclined to tell Windfall. That wasn't to say that Foxglove would have been my first choice as a confidant either. But, if I was going to die soon, I was glad that I'd shared it with somepony.

"Is any of that true?"

"Every word," I couldn't keep the smirk off my face. Go figure, I'm at my most honest, and the pony I've bared myself to doesn't believe a word of it. Celestia, you are one whiley bitch.

"So why tell me all that?"

“Because I do want you to understand that I do feel bad about what I did to you,” I said, and was glad to see that this time the unicorn mare didn't look quite as dubious about the claim as she had the previous time I'd made it, “I did care about my sister, and I learned to hate my father for what he did to her. The last thing I ever want is to become somepony like him.”

Foxglove frowned, but it was a much less malicious thing this time around, “fine. I acknowledge that you're a fucked up stallion with questionable moral standards,” she took a deep breath and released it slowly, “so maybe I won't kill you. For that, at least,” the pistol lowered a bit more and she stepped aside, “now that you've 'apologized',” it was clear she hadn't truly accepted the apology; but that would be far too much to hope for anyway, “you should probably leave. I'll explain to Windfall why you're not here.”

“I'm not doing that either,” I shook my head and made no effort to get back up.

This was something that Foxglove didn't seem to appreciate very much. I noticed the revolver cant slightly back upward, “so, what? You really expect me to believe that you're going to just hang around here and wait for Windfall to put you down like the mongrel you are?

“What are you really up to?”

I rolled my eyes and finsished off another mouthful of apple bombs. There wasn't much left by now, “ain't up to anything. Just tired of running," I replied, "from my past, from my problems, from myself," I sighed, "I'm too old to keep doing it anymore. Besides, it's never made things better for me. It just creates more problems.”

"You don't think Windfall shooting you in the face when she finds out what you did to me is going to be a problem?"

I snorted, "on the contrary, it'd be the ultimate solution!" I allowed myself a hallow little laugh, though I was honestly no all that thrilled by the prospect. To throw off the shadow that was falling over my thoughts, I glanced up at the unicorn, "you think she'll really do it in my face?

"Can you talk her into doing it in the back of the head," I inquired, sounding almost sincere as I reached up and tapped the base of my skull "I don't want to see it coming."

I felt like Foxglove issued that amused little snort despite herself. She certainly got herself back under control fast enough and recomposed her features. Full Stop wasn't pointing at me anymore, floating harmlessly next to the unicorn. The mare studied me for a long while, considering something. Finally, she said, "can you at least tell me why?"

I blinked, and hesitated with my answer as my brain processed the erie parallel to a question I had been asked by another pony that I had wronged recently. Then, hesitantly, I ventured, "why did I come back and help?"

Foxglove frowned, "no," then she grimaced, "well, yeah, that too, I guess; but what I really meant was: why'd you do it? If you hated the idea of it, then why blackmail me into oral sex and then attack me?" it was clear from her tone that the question was a serious one, and that she would only tolerate a serious answer. Not one of the little trite ones that I had been providing her with throughout this interrogation so far.

That meant I needed to discover what that answer was for myself as well, "it's hard to say," I admitted, knowing full well that was not the sort of response that the unicorn would be satisfied with, even without looking at her dour expression. She was going to get a little bit unhappier with me before things got better though, "I mean, I think about sex. Like, a lot. I'm a stallion, and I've been going through a pretty long dry spell. I've been rubbing one off twice a watch every night for months," from the look or revulsion on Foxglove's face, and the equally disgusted reaction from Orange Cunt, I supposed I was being a little too honest at the moment.

Steering the explanaition in a direction that hopefully wouldn't get me gelded, I continued, "and sometimes I think about doing it..." realizing what I was about to say, I found myself faultering over the words a little and shying away from the armed unicorn mare, "...with you," oh, yep; that's a pissed off looking unicorn with a gun right there, yes it is. Talking faster now before the shooting and yelling starts, "but only for a second and then I remember how much you hate my guts and that there isn't enough whiskey in the whole valley to make you loose enough, and the thought goes away because I know the only way the two of us would happen is...well, you know...through force.

"So the thought gets pushed out of my head just about the same moment I have it," I finished, grateful to have not been shot by the violet mare that was looking to be calming down a little bit now, "only...after McMaren...those thoughts just sort of, hung around. I didn't feel that sense of aversion like I normally do. I...I didn't care."

There was silence as the mare, and myself, processed this information. At least she was looking a little less murderous now, "so what made you start caring again? Since I assume you do now."

Several images of what had transpired in the Old Reino cafe flashed through my head. I, and it seemed the green-eyed orange earth pony in my head, decided that perhaps discression, in this case, was better than blatant honesty, "I rememebered why I used to," was all the answer I gave. Fortunately, it seemed to satisfy, "so I found some medicine, and got back here as quickly as I could."

Again, Foxglove took a moment to think things over. As she did so, she examined the revolver that she still possessed, "I don't like you," she stated tersely. No big surprise there, "I don't really trust you either," this was going to go poorly, "but," there was a 'but'? "in this case, I believe you."

"You do?" my genuinely shocked tone prompted a frown from the unicorn.

"You brought back medicine for Windfall, you didn't hurt me when you had the chance, and you gave me your gun while we talked," the mare pointed out, "either you're telling me the truth, or you are playing a really long con game here. Which would be stupid to try with a pony who hates you as much as I do right now."

Foxglove retained the revolver and walked over to where her own bags lay. They began to glow, and a bottle of glowing red soda floated out. There was a pop, and then a fizzing sound, as the cap was magically twisted off. The unicorn tipped the bottle up against her lips and took a couple generous gulps of the liquid. Then she lowered it and favored the container with a wry smile, "it's been so long since I had one of these, I must have forgotten what they really tasted like. Still good though," she walked back over to where I was laying and settled down across from me. The can of Cram started glowing and then slid along the floor towards her.

"So," she began as the can in front of her was magically pried apart to reveal it contents, "you're father. He was a real bastard, huh?"

"In his own way," were the two of us having a civil conversation? It felt strange. Refreshing, but strange, "his methods weren't anything to brag about; but, I do think his heart was in the right place. Sort of," I finished with a grimace.

"You're not serious," the unicorn glared at me. A glob of the food paste that was the wonderous Cram was flaoting in front of her, "after what you said he did to his wives and daughter?"

"They weren't really his wives," I corrected, knowing that was hardly the root of the issue. But I did feel it made his crimes a scoshe less heinous. Maybe, "they were just slaves he wanted to fu..." my words trailed off as I noticed Foxglove's expression. The unicorn who had once been a sex slave, after a fashion. I shifted the direction of the conversation. I was really bad at this whole talking candidly with other ponies thing, "point is, he wasn't doing it for himself. He was doing it for my sake."

"And that makes it better?" The mare was skeptical. So was I, a bit.

I cringed, "a little? Isn't a father supposed to sacrifice for his foal?"

"Not in the sense of sacrificing mares to pits full of radscorpions," Foxglove deadpanned.

Okay, point taken, "what I mean is: he wasn't doing any of it just for the sake of being a sadistic asshole," not that I couldn't be sure he hadn't enjoyed it because he was a sadistic asshole, "he was doing it to help me and make sure I was safe. I'm not defending the guy," I don't think, "but I can appreciate what we're willing to do for...others," I found my gaze wandering towards the hall entrance.

Foxglove noticed where my attention had gone, and her scowl lessened slightly, "I'll grant you that much," she acknowledged, "but there's a line, even then. When does being cruel because you want to help somepony turn into being cruel just because you want to be cruel?"

"I thought I'd managed to draw that line," I shook my head, "but I was wrong. So, don't worry; even for Windfall, I won't go feeding you to any radscorpions," it was a bad attempt at a joke, I know; but I felt like something needed to be done to lighten the mood. It had been a very rough day, and I'd give most anything to feel good right about now.

I wasn't sure if it surprised Foxglove more, or myself, but the mare did crack a smile, "I appreciate that. In return, I won't throw you out a window and then stab you to death," and the point for that round goes to the unicorn mare who proved that she can indeed hold a grudge.

My eyes ended up on my pipbuck, and then went to the unicorn, "what was your father like, back in your Stable?"

The mare tapped her chin with her hoof, considering the question. She munched on some of her Cram while she thought about how she'd respond. Finally, "I never really knew him all that well. He died in an accident before I even got my cutie mark. My mother always told me he was a good pony though," she took another swig of her drink and smiled, "I remember how he smelled though. He was a fabricator too, so he spent a lot of time in the workshops. He'd come home just reeking of smoke and oil and grease.

"I loved it," her smile broadened into a grin, "my mother hated it. She'd have a bath waiting for him the moment he got home so that he didn't get the rest of us all dirty. Almost never worked though; I'd always run up to him and throw myself into his hooves the moment he stepped through the door," the unicorn rolled over onto her back and took in a deep breath, sniffing idly at the air, "he'd hug me so tight. All I could smell was the fumes from where he'd been welding all day. Smokey, and bitter, and..." her words trailed off as she started to sniff with more purpose. Her nose started arcing in my direction.

She looked at me with an arched brow, "...were you in a fire?"

"There may have been an explosion, yes," I responded. Experimentally, I took a whiff of my shoulder. It wasn't that bad, was it? I barely noticed anything at all.

"Anyway," the uncicorn shook her head and continued with her own story, "I think that's why I became a fabricator after he died. Being in the shop, it reminded me of how I felt every time he came home," she took another sip from the cola bottle, and her lips spread into a mischevious smile, "it's how it smelled the first time I made love."

My eyes widened slightly. Oh, this was going to be one of those stories. Alright then, I could stand to listen to something a little steamy, "you and the Overmare, right?"

She waved away my remark with a hoof, "this was before I knew I liked mares better than stallions. He was one of my instructors. Older stallion. I forget his name," she rolled over onto her back and wriggled around as she giggled, "but I wasn't thinking about his name at the time," she sighed, "my mother would killed me if she ever knew. I found out later that they used to date," she informed me. Did Foxglove realize how close she had gotten to me during her telling of the story?

“We only did it the one time,” the bottle of cola hovered up to her lips and she finsihed off the last remaining sips. Staring forlornly at the now empty glass container, she tossed it aside and stretched herself out with a contented sigh, “that tasted great,” she smiled, “anyway, things got...awkward between us.”

I glanced at my side, where Foxglove's hooves were idly kneeding my ribs. It didn't look as though the unicorn was even aware of what she was doing. I cleared my throat, “you mean with your mother?”

“Hmm?” the unicorn looked my way. Noticing what she was doing with her hooves, she very quickly pulled them back in close to her body and coughed, suddenly finding her mane very interesting, “uh...no. Well, actually yes; but not because of that. Things got awkward between me and my instructor. He got really drunk one night, asked to marry me, and...well,” she winced, “I had to say no.

“He was sweet and all, but with the age thing...eh,” Foxglove shrugged, “it's not that I have anything against older ponies,” she added as an afterthought, “he was just...easily tired; if you know what I mean,” she glanced back my way, looking for comprehension as she arched a brow.

Were the two of us really talking about her sex life? It was nice to see the unicorn was no longer in a state of mind where she was entertaining the notion of killing me, don't get me wrong; but I hadn't thought that the two of us had moved on to quite that point in our relationship. I hadn't moved on to that point in any relationship I'd ever had with anypony, frankly, “couldn't go the distance?” I ventured, hoping that the mare wasn't going to suddenly find my commenting on her prior lovers to be out of line.

“Not more than once,” Foxglove frowned as she nodded her confirmation, “that's the thing about doing it with other mares,” she continued, “they almost never fall asleep after just the first round,” a warm smile touched her lips, and the unicorn started nibbling on her bottom lip, “they also know exactly what to do with a mare,” she sighed.

Okay, things were getting really out of hoof now. Why was the violet pony lying nearby suddenly possessed to share this information with me? I needed to steer things to a much saner topic, “so, I learned something interesting about a nearby Stable while I was in Old Reino,” not that I was going to go into specifics about how I had come by the information, “I think we might want to check it out. Maybe we'll even learn something we can bargain with in New Reino. Plus,” I added with a nod of my head, “we're low on funds, and Stables always have valuable salvage.”

“Uh huh,” Foxglove's detached comment could not have more clearly conveyed her complete lack of interest in anything that I had just said.

Frowning, I looked over at the unicorn and was about to repeat myself in case the mare had simply not heard what I had said. The words caught in my throat and instead came out as, “didyou-a-wah?”

She was...occupying herself. Not as deliberately or with the sort of attention that a budding colt might when his hormones were starting to stir. Or even a young mare for that matter. Her hoof was just sort of...massaging the inside of her thighs. The mare continued to nibble on her lower lip, leeting slip a quiet sigh with every deep breath.

I coughed and looked away. Was this a set up? Given the confrontation that the two of us had had when I'd returned, and the topic of conversation involved, it was inconceivable that Foxglove was really chosing now to reliev a little tension in herself. Recoutings of steamy workshop encounters aside. The only reasonable conclusion was that Foxglove was trying to temp me into doing or saying something that would give her the justification that she needed to kill me and have a plausable set of circumstances to pass on to Windfall. It was the only rational possibility.

Not that I marked Foxglove as the sort of mare to try a stunt like that. All she'd had to do was gun me down the moment I came back if that was what she was after. In fact, she never had to let me go in the furst place when she'd finally gotten the upper hoof. There was no reason for her to be deliberately luring me into doing anything to give herself a justifiable cause to end my life after everything she'd gone through to not kill me for Windfall's sake.

Which left the only slightly less preposterous conclusion that Foxglove was, in fact, pleasuring herself only a couple of feet away from me, the stallion whose presence should only have been bringing on the exact opposite of those sorts of feelings and desires in the mare.

Could she simply just be fucking with me, then? I had just confessed that I thought about her in privately sensentual situations. Maybe this was a little try at some sort of revenge by deliberately provoking an arousal in myself when I knew that notion was going to come of it.

Though, Foxglove struck me as the sort of mare that had far too much self respect to expose herself like this if there was even a chance that I would enjoy watching what she was doing. Sexually frustrating a stallion that had only that morning tried to rape her didn't seem like the sort of dumbass thing a pony with Foxglove's history would do either.

When all was said and done: I didn't have a clue what was going on. None of it made any damned sense.

“I'm...just going to go lay down...anywhere else,” I grunted as I stood up, very carefully not watching the mare. It was enough that I was starting to smell a very familiar and rather tantilizing musk coming from the unicorn. Stirrings of my frequent trists with Saffron started to surface in my head. I was probably going to need some 'attention' before much longer too. Definitely wanted to be out of Foxglove's sight if it came to that...

A quick survey of the surrounding warehouse suggested that, other than the hallway with all the offices and the bunk room, the only locations out of sight of Foxglove were on the other side of the wagons. The very real looking freight haulers which Foxglove had dubbed to be fabrications. Shying away from the ill-fated wagon that had contained the radscorpion nest, I found myself a comfortable little seat out of sight fo the mare. Though, unfortunately, not out of earshot.

Whatever her appraisals of her former workplace romance might have been, Foxglove proved that she, at least, had a considerable amount of stamina. One hundred and fifty seven minutes. Sweet Celestia, that mare went on moaning and groaning for one hundred and fifty seven minutes! I knew this because I was left with little else to do than to stare at my pipbuck, which very considerately kept track of the time. Initially, I thought to distract myself from the unicorn’s unintelligible orations by perusing the contents of the Old World device. There really wasn’t all that much to sift through though, and after about twenty minutes, I’d been through every menu that there was. Twice. Of course, by that time Foxglove was still going at it, and I guess she either forgot, or stopped caring, that I was nearby, and became a great deal more vocal; even throwing in the occasional verbal accolade with regards to her own performance.

I was almost positive that it was going to wake Windfall and bring her out here. Wouldn’t that have been a lovely sight to half to explain to the Pegasus? Foxglove writhing on the floor with her hoof tucked down between her thighs; and myself hunched over behind a wagon rubbing one off. Which I found myself forced to do when I realized that the violet unicorn wasn’t going to be quick about this. A few minutes I could have taken and been okay. However, listening to a mare making those sorts of sounds for as long as she was going on put me into a very particular condition. When I realized that she wasn’t going to stop any time soon either, I eventually decided that I had to take care of matters myself.

It helped for a while. My advancing age had made itself known in a few areas over the years that I had noticed. My joints tended to bother me early in the morning after sleeping on the ground; or just when it was cold and wet out. I found myself feeling a lot more tired towards the end of the day than I used to. At times I was even forced to admit to myself that my eyesight was going, as I occasionally found myself holding the pipbuck at specific distances when looking at the display. It did seem though, that one area that had not lost a lot of its youthful vigor was my libido. Every time I took care of things, I would find myself right back where I started within another twenty minutes or so.

What was that damn unicorn trying to do to me?! Things started to get pretty raw around the two hour mark, that was for sure.

Of course, it did eventually have to end. Foxglove may have been a lot younger than I was; and obviously had a great deal more stamina; but she was still just a damn pony. Finally, she stopped her caterwauling, and contented herself with a few minutes of loud panting. Even when it was over though, I stayed put. Foxglove had gone from being murderous, to conversational, to amorous; all in the span of thirty minutes. I couldn’t even guess what her disposition was going to be towards me right now.

I waited until another ten minutes had passed before I made any movement to leave my little wagon refuge and face the violet unicorn. When I did so, it was with some marked trepidation. Which flavor of Foxglove was I going to find out there? I was hoping for ‘pleasant’, personally.

The mare was sitting up, straightening out her mane and tail, which were looking a little bedraggled at the moment. A little damp from sweat as well, it seemed. If she noticed my slow approach, the unicorn didn’t do anything to acknowledge it. I returned to where I had been laying down when all of this started and took a seat near the empty box of Sugar Apple Bombs that I had left. Then I sat and waited quietly and patiently for Foxglove to make the next move and set the tone for how the rest of this evening was going to; as it was indeed evening now.

I couldn’t speak for Foxglove, but I knew that I was going to sleep like a damn foal tonight after all of that tension relief. Though, I could feel some of that tension beginning to mount again the longer the mare in front of me went without saying anything.

“So, you are staying then?” the unicorn said suddenly, as though she were continuing a conversation that I didn’t exactly remember us having together. At least, not one that had gone as calmly as her tone suggested that it might have.

It took a couple of seconds for me to answer it, as my mind had to maneuver around the whole list of things that we probably should have talked about first. But, okay, “uh…yeah, I am. I still need to tell Windfall what I did. See if she’ll give me another chance.”

Foxglove was quiet for several seconds. Then, “it’d be better if you didn’t.”

I shook my head, “I don’t care if Windfall follows through with her promise,” I assured the mare, “I’d deserve it, and I think I can accept that. But I’m not running anymore. It’s time I finally bucked up and faced some damn consequences.”

The unicorn finally looked at me, a wan smile on her face, “that’s not what I meant,” she said, “you can stay and all, I guess,” she didn’t sound precisely thrilled about that prospect, “but I don’t think you should tell Windfall about what happened.”

That actually surprised me to no small degree, “what? Why?”

Foxglove sighed, “because…I think I believe you,” the unicorn went on to elaborate when she saw me cock my brow, “about your dad and sister. I can see how that would affect a pony; and, frankly,” it sounded like she was a little reluctant to say what came next, “I have to admit that you have been acting…different, since McMaren.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Foxglove quickly amended when she saw my genuinely surprised expression at her admission, “I’ve never liked you, and I still think you’re a bastard, and if you die I sure as shit won’t shed any tears,” I was getting the distinct impression that the unicorn was not my biggest fan, “but,” I was almost surprised that there was one, after that glowing review of my character, “you have always cared about Windfall, if only in your own little way. You even looked out for me a time or two when you didn’t have to.

“That wasn’t the pony who was here this morning, or the pony that was coercing me in the hotel,” her tone suggested that the mare was trying not to hold a grudge; but the look in her eyes was far less forgiving. I doubted that I was ever really going to be able to balance the books on that little bit of karma where the unicorn was concerned, “so…you can stay, and I won’t say anything to Windfall.

“You don’t have to either.”

That was very noble of her, but it still didn’t quite answer the question as to, “why?”

Another sigh, “because, at the end of the day, you’re a positive influence on Windfall’s life,” I was surprised that it didn’t cause Foxglove physical pain to have to say something about me that bordered on nice, “mostly because of how much of a piece of shit you are,” ah, there it was, “trying to make you a better pony is giving Windfall hope; and that helps her.

“If she finds out that you fucked up like you did, she’s going to think it was because she failed, and that it was her fault. I don’t want that for her.

“Trust me; I’m not doing this for you.”

“You never are,” I responded with a wan smile. The unicorn frowned at me, but let the comment slide. With that pressing matter out of the way, it did still leave one point that I wanted to receive clarification on though, “so, about what just happened then,” I saw Foxglove visibly tense as I raised the subject. Tread carefully, Jackboot, “are we ever going to talk ab—”

Foxglove’s hoof was firmly planted against my lips, pinning my mouth closed and cutting off the rest of my question. The mare’s emerald eyes were boring into mine with a severity that sent a chill down my spine. This was a feeling that was made a little confusing as it conflicted with a very different reaction being triggered by the placement of the mare’s hoof. The scent wafting through my nostrils suggested that this was the same hoof that Foxglove had been attending to herself with, and with the duration that she had persisted, the…odor, was quite pungent. Its nature was a little arousing as well.

The unicorn seemed to realize what was going on about a second later, and very swiftly removed her hoof, tucking the limb in close to her. She glared at me for another moment, as though the oversight had been my fault somehow; or perhaps even because she was actually a little upset at herself for it. Finally, she said, “nothing. Happened.”

I held the mare’s gaze for another long moment, and then nodded, “right. My mistke,” the mare issued a confirming nod of her own.

Foxglove then composed herself and turned to head for the warehouse’s office corridor, “I’m going to get some sleep. You’re sleeping out here. You understand,” it was not phrased as a question, and there was indeed no reason to take it as such. Fair enough.

“Can you at least drag a mattress out for me?”

“Nope.”

Foxglove disappeared from sight and a moment later I heard a door open, then close, and then lock. Okay, so I probably deserved at least that much animosity from the unicorn. She hadn’t actually said that she’d forgiven me for anything that I’d done to her, only that she wasn’t going to directly kill me or sell me out to Windfall for her to do it. I’ll be honest; I actually came out of this a lot better off than I had any right to.

What I couldn’t figure out was whether this was Celestia finally passing a little good will my way; or if this was all just some elaborate scheme that the Goddess was cooking up in order to lull me into a false sense of security for some later, even grander, punishment.

On that pleasant note, I cleared up a little patch of dusty floor, and curled up to get some sleep of my own.

Footnote: Level Up!
Speech: 75
Perk Added: Explorer -- Better chance of finding special places and ponies.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, a thumbs up and comment are always greatly appreciated

I've set up a Cover Art Fund if you're interested and have any bits lying around! You can see what I'M capable of, heh; professional assistance is clearly needed here!