There are some back home who ask me, "But who are we protecting? What is Neighvada to us?"

“What did you do to her?!”

“I didn’t do shit!”

My eyes fluttered open as the sounds of the mares yelling outside finally managed to penetrate the drug-induced stupor that RG had inflicted on me. There were only a few passing moments of confusion as my brain shook off the last vestiges of sleep, after which I was able to start processing everything that had happened.

“Bullshit! Windfall wasn’t herself, and the last ones to be near her were you and your zebra friend. You did something!”
The first thing that I was aware of feeling was the complete lack of pain and discomfort that I’d been suffering from earlier. It was quite the welcome relief. I still didn’t have much in the way of ideas when it came to the cause of my earlier torment, but I was very glad to find that it had passed.

“I gave her a soda and left, that was it!”

Next up was a residual nagling frustration that I felt towards RG. I just couldn’t understand that stallion. He’d seemed perfectly fine with the idea of mounting me that first time. It didn’t make much sense to me that he’d suddenly start having second thoughts like that. I mean, yeah, in hindsight I guess it was pretty silly of me to kind of forget the whole, ‘don’t want to risk getting a foal in me yet’ reason for putting the brakes on being together like that again, and suddenly insist that we do it, but…

“Oh, really? And what exactly was in that ‘soda’, huh? Admit it: you planned on drugging her and abducting her!”

...actually, that was a good question: why had I chosen to ignore the risk of getting pregnant like that? We were just a few more days from Seaddle and Doctor Lancet. I could get an implant from him and remove the risk entirely and then RG and I could rut around all we wanted. Well, I suppose all that I wanted; he didn’t really seem to care either way. Not that I was really all that hot and bothered to go through that lackluster experience again. Seriously: why were ponies so keen on sex when it was over that quick? All that playing around leading up to it was way more fun!

“Wow. You caught me. You figured out my master plan to drug the pegasus...and then leave her alone to go get my brains fucked out. How ever did you discover my nefarious plot?”

Alright, so I did kind of have to admit that I might not have been thinking clearly at the time. I had just been through a pretty tough fight, not that I haven’t been through those before. However, there was that whole ‘singing’ thing. That had been new. Maybe I’d still been under some sort of lingering magical effect from Starlight’s song that had left me not thinking clearly? I suppose that it was possible.

“Just because I don’t know all the details doesn’t mean I’m not right!”
I turned my head and frowned in the direction of the door. I suppose that at the very least I should get out there and diffuse that before it escalated. One big fight a day was what I felt to be a reasonable limit. No reason to let Foxglove get hot and bothered enough to start another one with Pritchel.

I slipped out of the bed. My barding and battle saddle were still in pieces from my earlier reckless efforts to get them off, and I didn’t feel like it was quite worth the time and effort to get them on just this moment. My compact semi and its underwing holster should be more than sufficient for just flitting around Santa Mara at the moment.

“I know Windfall, and she’d never behave that way around a stallion; especially Arginine! You did something to her!”

Oh, boy. This was going to be an...uncomfortable conversation…

Well, I guess it wasn’t like I was going to be able to keep things a secret from my friends forever.

I trotted over to the door and pulled it open. The lobby of The Sleeper Cars looked rather crowded at the moment. Pritchel and Lucerne were squaring off against Foxglove and Ramparts. Though, in both instances, the stallions looked to mostly be there as backup in case things got out of hoof. Well, Ramparts looked like he was ready to be backup. The older Lancer stallion seemed like he’d really like for everypony to stop arguing, and was periodically trying to calm the large silver unicorn down. She just wasn’t having it.

The other bounty hunter, Medica, was skulking in a far corner of the lobby, acting like he wasn’t hearing the argument taking place just a few feet away from him. Meanwhile, the other zebra, Yatima, was paying very close attention to what was being said from her position next to Ramparts. Swaddled beneath her in a simple cloth wrap was the tiny brown striped form of her and the Republic soldier’s foal, squirming fitfully in the face of the nearby verbal banter being exchanged.

Beside me was Arginine, who looked down upon noticing that the door had opened. He raised his eyebrow slightly by way of silently asking me if I was feeling alright and I nodded. Satisfied, he returned his own attention to the pair of arguing mares who had yet to notice me. Starlight was the only pony not accounted for.

“Are you seriously blaming me for your teenage friend getting all flirty with that tall drink of equine over there?” Pritchel scoffed, jabbing her hoof in RG’s direction, “can you blame her? I mean, if I was going to drug and foalnap anypony in your group, it’d’ve been him!”

A lot of eyes turned in our direction at this point, and the conversation paused as everypony noticed the new arrival to their ‘discussion’. The collection of so many ponies all staring at me so suddenly, combined with the current topic of conversation, evoked a slight blush from myself. It intensified somewhat as I noticed that while most of the gathered ponies wore expressions ranging from concern to surprise, the large bounty hunter mare was grinning broadly.

“Well, speak of the siren...gotta admit, I’m a little surprised you can walk straight after a go with somepony like him,” she jerked her head in Arginine’s direction before turning her full attention to the larger gray pony, “you must be a pretty gentle lover,” her smile turned seductive, “though if you ever feel like getting rough with somepony, I promise I can take it…”

“Okay,” I snapped, flipping a wing up in between the amorous bounty hunter and the nonplused engineered stallion, flashing Pritchel a sharp glare. The silver unicorn chuckled to herself and took a step back in concession. I tucked my wing back into my side and took a calming breath to help settle my heckles, which I was annoyed to find had stiffened rather significantly. Then I turned to regard the still rather concerned looking Foxglove.

“Sorry about before, Foxy,” I began, still not really looking forward to all of this. It needed to be done though, “you’re right, I wasn’t myself,” I saw the violet mechanic fixing to glare smugly at the bounty hunter and cut her off, “but it didn’t have anything to do with Pritchel,” another glare from me curbed the raspberry that the larger unicorn mare was blowing at my friend, “the truth is…”

I took another breath as a little orange earth pony urged me to continue, “...that RG and I are kind of...a ‘thing’.”

While Foxglove looked predictably shocked by the revelation, I noticed that Ramparts was doing a poor job of acting surprised. Nopony else in the room really had much in the way of an opinion, though I suppose that somepony could have described Pritchel as looking a little envious.

“When did this start?” the violet unicorn mare asked, looking between me and Arginine.

“I mean, I guess it became ‘official’ in McMaren,” I admitted, “but that’s not important.”

“But―”

“Look, Foxy, if you want to, we can talk about this later. Privately,” I nodded my head in the direction of the bounty hunters, who I felt didn’t need to be privy to every facet of my love-life. Honestly, I wasn’t sure that my friends needed to be either, but it was either satisfy Foxglove’s curiosity or listen to her pester me about it for Celestia knew how long. Right now though, I had other concerns, “can we just focus on helping the ponies of Santa Mara for now?

“Where’s Starlight?”

This earned me an uncomfortable cough from Ramparts, who supplied the answer to my question, “she’s with the Lancers, directing them to fix up the town.”

My eyes widened in genuine surprise, “really? I wouldn’t think they’d be that helpful.”

“Yeah, you uh...better just go look for yourself,” it wasn’t lost on me that both Yatima and Foxglove were mirroring the earth pony stallion’s look of discomfort. Curious, I started heading for the door. Arginine fell into step at my flank, like I was his superior officer. Whether it was because he was just as curious as I was, or because he was feeling uncharacteristically protective of me, I wasn’t sure yet. I might know how to read the stallion better than most ponies, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself an expert.

It wasn’t hard to miss what the Republican soldier must have been talking about. Three dozen ponies dressed in Lancer barding were clearly visible just outside the town’s inn, engaged it what appeared to be a rather ambitious effort to reinforce and enlarge the town’s perimeter wall of train cars and rails. Directing their efforts was a familiar pink unicorn mare who looked remarkably comfortable as she barked out orders and managed construction teams.

I also noticed a few of the local townsponies gathering to watch the efforts, their expressions drifting between uncertainty and concern. I suppose that was understandable. These were the ponies that had held their entire town hostage just this morning. They probably didn’t know what to make of Starlight’s newfound dominion over them. To be perfectly honest, neither did I.

None of the Lancers appeared to be wearing a slave collar of any sort, and their pink unicorn overseer still had her shotgun neatly tucked away in its sheath at her side. I couldn’t find any sign that somepony was coercing them with any sort of threat of force. What was more: they were even smiling! In fact, I was positive that I heard a few of them humming pleasant little tunes to themselves...which bore an uncanny similarity with the song that Starlight had been singing during the fight.

The pink mare glanced over her shoulder at my approach, her satisfied smile broadening slightly as she noticed the two of us. Her eyes took on a mischievous glint as she greeted us, “done celebrating, are we?”

I responded only with a grunt and a deep flushing of my cheeks. Considering that the two of us hadn’t actually even done anything, I didn’t feel that it was particularly fair that I was getting teased like this. Not that I was about to admit that the truth was that Arginine had knocked me out with a double-dose of Med-X because my libido had been too out of control for me to deal with. Somehow, I felt like that would only lead to further uncomfortable questions from my friends. Better to let them think the two of us gotten in a good rutting instead.

“They seem...cooperative,” I said with a flick of my wing towards the busy Lancer mercenaries.

Starlight seemed perfectly willing to accede to my change of topic and returned her own attention to the band of working ponies, beaming with pride, “they’re productive little ponies, alright!”

“So you reformed them, just like Lucerne?”

“Yep! These ponies no longer have a single disagreeable bone in their bodies. They’re model citizens. Isn’t that right, everypony?” she raised her tone, addressing all of the Lancers.

The mercenaries all paused whatever activity they were engaged in and turned to smile and wave at the three of us, “yes, Starlight Glimmer!” they then all simultaneously resumed their tasks in perfect synchronicity.

A shiver ran through my spine. There was something...off about the way that they’d all said that. It was like they were saying the words for the first time, and they didn’t quite understand what any of them meant. They were reciting them from rote, because that was the answer that they were supposed to give to the question that they’d been asked; but they truly understood neither. They’d sounded...hollow.

It was one of the most unsettling things that I’d ever heard in my life. Considering I’d heard the hungry howls of a few hundred ghouls out to devour my entrails echoing through a dead stable, that said quite a lot, I thought.
Still, I had to admit that it was refreshing to see ponies like these Lancers actually helping, “how long will they be like this?” if there was some sort of expiration date on whatever enchantment Starlight had used, it’s be nice to know when this act of theirs would drop.

“The rest of their lives,” the unicorn answered simply, still smiling with satisfaction, “these ponies will never again raise a hoof in anger, harm another pony, or even tell a lie. They’re just pleasant, honest, and helpful, little ponies,” her features finally faltered ever so slightly as a sadness crept onto her face, “...just like everypony used to be.”

I felt that shiver again, “so...they’ll be like this forever?” Starlight nodded. I was still understandably dubious, “but what if somepony lies to them, or tries to hurt them, or something? I mean, they could ‘relapse’ or something, right?”

“Nope,” the mare said, shaking her head, “they literally don’t know how to be violent anymore. The concept of harming another pony has been completely removed from their minds.

“I can understand your concern,” she continued, pausing to whistle to one of the nearer Lancer mercenaries, an earth pony mare, and calling her over to us, “so I’ll explain a little bit about what a Reform Spell really is.”

The earth pony smiled at both of us in what could have been described as ‘warm’ by anypony who wasn’t close enough to see the dullness of her eyes. It was like she was hollow inside, “hello! Is there something that I can do for you ponies?”

“Yes, please,” Starlight said, “I’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Certainly! What would you like to know?” listening to her ‘enthusiasm’ sounded like listening to an actor giving a reluctant stage performance. I found myself growing steadily more uncomfortable around the mare. She was just...wrong.

“Would you ever hurt anypony?” Starlight asked.

The mare looked positively stricken by the question, almost horrified, “goodness! Of course not!”

“What if they hurt you first?”

“An ‘eye for an eye’ doesn’t make things right,” the earth pony insisted resolutely.

“What would you do then, if somepony hurt you?”

“Why, I’d try to find out the reason for it and see if we could reach an understanding.”

“What if they didn’t want to reach an understanding?”

“Everypony wants to reach an understanding,” the mare replied resolutely, “it’s just a matter of being patient enough with them.”

Starlight looked at me and gestured to the other mare, “is there anything you want to ask her?”

I frowned as I looked between the two of them, then addressed the Lancer, “what if I asked you to help me fight somepony; would you hurt them then?”

“Fighting is never the answer,” she said, flashing me a reproachful look, “I would help you work out your differences, but not through violence.”

My frown deepened slightly, but I wasn’t quite satisfied yet, “what about to save a friend or a member of your family. Would you hurt somepony then?”

“I’d talk to them. Like I said, anypony can be reasoned with.”

I snorted and looked at Starlight, “this is ridiculous! She’s obviously lying! There’s no way that she actually believes that raiders and slavers can be ‘reasoned’ with,” I waved an irritated hoof at the earth pony, “for fuck’s sake, I’ve been trying to ‘reason’ with them for months!”

Unperturbed, Starlight looked at the Lancer, “what would you do to save a friend from somepony who was threatening them?”

“I’d give them whatever they wanted,” the mercenary mare answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“What if they wanted everything you had?”

She shrugged, “possessions can be replaced. There’s nothing I have that’s worth somepony’s life or suffering.

“What if the wanted you?” I interjected.

“Then I’d surrender myself.”

I balked at the speed with which the response had been given, shocked, “you would?”

“Absolutely!”

“Why?”

“What good does it do to hurt anypony else, if all I have to do to prevent it is give myself up. My hurting another pony doesn’t make the world a better place. It just hurts another pony.”

I was about to snap off a retort, but Starlight cut in, “thank you for your time. You can go back to work.”

“Yes, Starlight Glimmer,” she nodded to the both of us, her pallid smile lingering on me, “it was nice to meet you!” she then trotted off happily.

The pink mare sighed with satisfaction and said, “reform spells were developed many centuries ago, in the wake of the Nightmare War, in the hope of preventing another one like it. At first it was used to quell the last of the traitors who had taken up arms against Princess Celestia during Nightmare Moon’s rebellion; turning them back into loyal citizens in lieu of banishment. It was seen as a mercy.

“In the centuries following the Nightmare War, reform spells began to see more widespread use in Equestria’s prison system to help with the more extreme cases. Why lock violent ponies away when they could be turned back into productive members of society with a little zap to the head? For that matter, why lock up anypony at all? There was simply no reason to tolerate anypony who would be a disruption to Equestria’s harmony.

“Before the Great War, crimes more serious than petty theft or fraud simply did not exist,” the pink mare continued, proudly lauding the accomplishments of her ancient home, “potential problem cases were identified early and addressed. Anypony who did commit a serious crime was reformed on the spot. The spell was in such common usage, that every small town had several copies of it in their local public library.

“It was a Golden Age of harmony.”

Her expression soured now, “we didn’t go around fighting and killing each other all the time,” she snorted as she seemed to gesture to the entirety of the Wasteland from where she stood. She looked to me, “and I can bring back that Golden Age,” one of her spell books was hovering at her side, “one violent pony at a time. With enough time and resources, I could probably even create a Reform Megaspell and bring instantaneous harmony to everypony in the Wasteland!”

I hadn’t even been aware that I’d taken a step back from the mare until she took a moment to recompose herself. Her intensity had been...unexpected. The pink unicorn straightened herself up and cleared her throat, smiling down at me, “just something to keep in mind; if you’re really serious about ‘fixing’ the world. If you’ll excuse me, I should really get back to work,” and with that the unicorn walked away to manage her recently acquired workforce.

As Starlight left, I found myself feeling rather uncomfortable about the thoughts that she’d left me with. Not that I could really put a hoof on the source of my trepidation. The unicorn had just offered me the perfect answer to the question of how I could fix the Wasteland, hadn’t she? Every single bandit, raider, slaver, murderer, and rapist in the world could be gotten rid of. The best part? Nopony had to die for it to happen.

It was the perfect counter-proposal to the plan being pursued by Arginine’s stable of simply killing everypony in an effort to hit some sort of ‘reset’ button. All we had to do was magically zap the world into a paradise.

I was probably feeling uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to thinking of things as being this easy. Here I was with all of these doubts swirling in my head, and I even had several dozen ponies in front of me that irrefutably proved that what Starlight Glimmer had been saying was true. The Lancers were actively helping to fix up the very town that they’d been terrorizing only a few hours ago, and I couldn’t spot any indication whatsoever that they were being actively coerced into doing it.

They weren’t prisoners or slaves, or anything else like that. Maybe they weren’t exactly themselves anymore, but that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? They’d been been this group of violent and vindictive ponies who had been perfectly willing to abuse their power over other ponies and take advantage of them, or worse. Now, thanks to Starlight’s spell, they were, objectively, ‘good’ ponies.

In some ways, they were probably now even the best examples of ‘good ponies’ in the whole Wasteland.

Even if the way they talked made me feel this sense of lingering discomfort all the way down to my very soul. What alternatives were there, though? Letting them go would just let them get up to more mischief somewhere else. Locking them up somewhere for the rest of their lives didn’t do anypony any good, assuming that it was even possible to find a town willing to waste those kinds of resources on a few dozen mouths that would need feeding for decades to come. I certainly didn’t want to just kill them out of hoof.

Starlight’s plan, as uncomfortable as it made me feel, was a perfect solution.

...so then why didn’t I like it?

I needed a second opinion from a pony I trusted more than myself, “so? What do you think?”

Arginine didn’t respond immediately, his golden eyes studying the mercenary ponies. After several long seconds of silence, he finally offered his own opinion, “Miss Glimmer’s reasoning and methods appear to be sound and effective. The proof is evident. The Lancer mercenaries do not appear to pose a threat any longer.”

“So you think it’s a good idea?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about hearing Arginine side with the pink unicorn’s plan while I was still feeling conflicted. Mostly I was concerned what it implied about me that I didn’t agree with what two ponies who were admittedly much smarter than I was thought was a good idea.

If, like Ramparts had suggested, I wasn’t a good pony, did that mean that I’d eventually find myself on the receiving end of one of Starlight’s reformation blasts? Was that why it made me uncomfortable?

“The short-term effectiveness is irrefutable.”

My ears perked up and I glanced at the slate gray unicorn stallion, “but…?”

“Miss Glimmer insisted that these methods of ensuring congenial behavior among ponies were in full enforcement prior to the Great War.”

“Yeah. So?”

Arginine looked down and met my gaze, “then it is clear that those protocols were insufficient to prevent the Great War.”

He was right. If, like Starlight Glimmer said, that spell was how ponies back then had routinely dealt with troublemakers and maintained a happy and healthy society, then it obviously hadn’t been enough to stop something like the Wasteland from happening anyway. Somehow, that revelation didn’t make me feel any better. If having the ability to, quite literally, zap ponies into being kind and friendly all the time wasn’t enough to keep the world from being turned into a hellscape, then what possible hope was there?

“I kind of wish I could have seen how ponykind went from being like that,” I waved a wing at the industrious humming Lancers rebuilding the town, “to creating the Wasteland,” Starlight had been there, so it was possible that I could have plied her for just that information, but I got the feeling that it was a sore subject for her. Understandable, certainly, and I didn’t want to press her in the matter any more than I liked being pressed on Jackboot’s...let’s say, ‘less than noble’ activities.

“It would indeed be a progression worth studying,” Arginine agreed, earning a smile from myself, “as it could perhaps suggest which neurotransmitter production might have needed more stimulation to genetically mirror the effects of the spell, and render it redundant in a population.”

My smile soured slightly as I rolled my eyes and sighed. I leaned against the stallion, the contact reminding me that there were other matters that the two of us had to talk about, “thanks for earlier. With the whole...sex...thing. I’m sorry for how I was acting.”

“Your behavior was quite aberrant,” the stallion noted, “I had no means by which to gauge the effects that sexual stimulation would have had on your condition. Attempting to address a radically different condition with the same course of treatment would have been reckless.”

I was frowning now, “that’s the least romantic way of saying, ‘I don’t just want you for your body’ that I’ve ever heard.”

“My interest in your body is of a purely academic nature, I assure you.”

That was my RG all right. A real sweet-talker, that one. Of course, he’d never been shy about making it crystal clear that what was going on between us wasn’t much more than stress relief for my benefit. I wasn’t knocking that, not completely. It had become pretty clear to me in the last few weeks that this was something that I needed: somepony to confide in who was willing to make me feel good, both emotionally and physically.

It wasn’t love, and never would be. But it was at least genuine, and that was nice. I’d discovered that a story-book kind of love, like my parents had had, seemed to be a lot less common in the world that I’d thought as a young filly, “did I ever tell you how my parents met?” I asked the stallion.

“The subject of your ancestry has never been brought up in conversation, no.”

“Let’s walk and talk,” I nodded to the stallion, lifting up into a low hover and drifting through the town, casting the occasional glance at the progress being made to get life in Santa Mara back to normal. The larger gray unicorn stallion followed in my wake.

“It was my ma’s ranch really. She’d been the only foal my grandparents had had. I was told that it was because my grandma had died young. My pa was the colt of some caravan ponies who stopped by to trade with them every week or so as part of their regular route.

“He saw how my ma and grandpa would struggle sometimes to get all the work done that they needed to, and so he offered to help out. At first, he did it for pay, staying every other week between his parent’s caravan visits. Then, he said that he didn’t need the money, as long as he was given meals and a place to sleep―which he already was, of course.

“My ma says this was about the time she realized what was going on.

“After about five months of helping out like this, he was getting packed up to go home with his family, and my ma stopped by his room. She thanked him for everything that he’d been doing for them that whole time. She admitted that they wouldn’t have been able to keep the place up without his help.

“She asked him if he’d ever thought about having a ranch of his own. My pa said, ‘I’d never want to have my own ranch. I’d want one that I could share with somepony; but only if that somepony was you.’

“They got married a couple months later,” I said, a wan smile touching my lips as I thought about my parents, “that story stuck with me. A pony who was being helpful and everypony got to live happily because of it. It’s how I felt the world should always have been.”

“From what I have observed of the surface, your upbringing was atypical.”

I snorted, “says the stallion who was genetically engineered in an ancient underground bunker.”

“A valid point,” he acknowledged, “though my own still stands: being raised in such surroundings during your emotionally formative years has given you an aberrant outlook on life. Insofar as it is not a generally practiced view by other surface ponies.”

“It could be though,” I said, looking at the nearest group of Lancers working on the town’s perimeter wall, “zapping everypony might not be the answer, but if we really could get as many of the bad ponies in the world acting like this…”

“It is an initiative worth considering,” Arginine admitted, “while the eventual result may have been the Wasteland we experience today, there had existed a period of centuries of peace before the Great War. Perhaps Miss Glimmer’s plan merely requires minor alterations to maintain a perpetually sustainable model.”

I experienced an inward cringe at the thought of conducting experiments in mind manipulation, even on violent bandits and slavers. There was something that was just...disquieting about the notion, “maybe until we can figure out a way to live without needing something like that…”

“Mister Arginine?”

The two of us stopped and looked around. We quickly spied the young zebra mare and her swaddled foal, standing behind us. She was looking up at the larger stallion, “Ramps...er, Ramparts was wondering if you could help out the town’s doctor? A lot of ponies were hurt when the Lancers attacked.”

The gray stallion’s lips twitched into a near grimace of annoyance at once more being asked to assume the role of a medical provider. He seemed to be about to refuse when I reached out and brushed him with a wing, “go and help. Make the Wasteland a better place; even just a little,” he sighed and nodded, trotting off towards the middle of town.

Yatima remained, thanking me for helping to talk him into it. She didn’t leave though, instead remaining. For a few moments, there was just awkward silence as she seemed to search for the right words that she wanted to start with. Eventually she simply chuckled and shook her head, “you once again saved mine and the life of my child,” she smiled, glancing down at her now slumbering colt, “and you brought my beloved back to me. Such acts, I don’t know that I could ever hope to repay.”

I felt my cheeks growing warm again, reaching up and rubbing the back of my head as I looked away in embarrassment, “I’m not doing this for thanks or payment or anything. It’s just...the right thing to do, you know?”

“Just the same,” the striped mare’s expression grew darker, “there are questions that I would ask you. They will sound personal, and I will understand if you want to keep your silence. I apologize ahead of time if this is the case, but I would ask all the same.”

“Um...okay?”

“Your friend, the purple unicorn, Foxglove. She was very insistent that you are not usually so...forward, with stallions. Is that true?”

She wasn’t kidding about these questions being personal, was she? Indeed, I almost didn’t answer. I thought Yatima was a nice mare, sure, but we weren’t close in any real sense. The two of us were barely acquaintances, really. Still...there was something about the way she was asking these questions. She wasn’t trying to pry for her own sake. There was...concern there. She was worried about something, and that got my attention.

Which wasn’t to say I still didn’t squirm a little as I provided my answer, “I mean, I’ve teased stallions before and stuff, but it was always just that: teasing. I’ve never genuinely flirted with a stallion before like that, no,” in hindsight, even I had to admit that the way I’d been acting with Arginine had been very unusual for me. Even the way that I’d been thinking about him…

“I see,” she was quiet for a moment. Then she asked a question that really caught me off guard, “did you hurt?”

My gaze was cemented on the zebra now, “excuse me?”

“Your body. Did your body hurt with longing for him?”

“...how did you know?” was that actually something that was normal? Was that how this mare had known what I was going through?

Yatima’s features hardened briefly, softening as she regarded me once more. There was a sadness in her gaze now; a pity, “that big mare mentioned giving you a drink before this all happened?” I nodded, “did it taste…” she hesitated as she dug around for the right descriptors, “of dryness? Perhaps of must and age?”

“I mean, it was two hundred year old soda,” I remarked with a shrug, “so it kind of was old. It was a Sparkle Cola RAD, so it didn’t taste like the regular stuff anyway. It tasted like the other RAD I’d had before, so, it was normal as far as I could…” then I recalled that I’d only ever tasted a Sparkle Cola RAD one other time: just after Foxglove and I had rescued Jackboot from that same pair of bounty hunters. I looked at Yatima, “why are you asking me this?”

“Many years ago, when I still lived in the Zebra Lands, I was ‘involved’ with Medica,” the name came out with no small amount of vitriol, “I believe myself to be in love with him. This was because whenever we were together, I found myself filling full of desire for him. Not at first, but after a few minutes of conversation I wouldn’t be able to think straight, and my body would ache to have him inside me,” as she spoke, I could see her body start to shake, and heard her words quiver. It was a mixture of rage and shame that looked to be consuming her.

The powerful emotions were soon picked up by the foal nestled against her and the infant colt began to fus. She sat on her haunches and gently brushed a hoof against her swaddle to calm him once again.

Almost instinctively, I slipped next to the mare and draped my wing over her shoulders in comfort. Yatima at least seemed receptive to the gesture and smiled sadly at me, “I apologise. I did not think it was I who would be unsettled by this conversation,” she tried to laugh at the irony, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She wiped her eyes and continued instead.

“One morning I woke from his bed and went to relieve myself,” the mare continued, “I happened to notice a door ajar that he had insisted was to a closet. It was in fact a small laboratory of sorts. I took a look inside out of curiosity, and discovered that he was an aspiring alchemist. He had notes left out on his table,” again she trembled with anger, “they were instructions on how to create a potion that would influence a pony’s sexual desire―greatly influence it.

“It was only then that I realized he’d always brought with him a beverage to offer me when we met. I had thought it was his way of being kind in his courtship of me,” her features hardened, “he was drugging me; making me feel false desires for him.

“I had very nearly wed that stallion, thinking that I loved him.”

There wasn’t much that I could think of to say to her other than, “I’m sorry,” she at least seemed to be grateful for the sympathy. This hadn’t been a conversation that she’d thought to have for her own benefit though, was it?

“You think that’s what happened to me? That I got hold of one of Medica’s drugged drinks and that was why I was acting so...horny?”

She nodded, “if it is true that you’ve never felt such strong physical desires, and the longer they went unfulfilled the more you ached...that was how things were for me.”

Now I was confused. I remembered Medica being there when I’d had the drink earlier that day. If this had all been part of some plan of his to get me to sleep with him...then why leave? It sounded like all he’d have had to do was just wait around for a few more minutes and I’d have been throwing myself at him without a second thought. Though, I remembered now that he hadn’t been the one to offer me the drink. In fact, he’d almost looked annoyed that I’d gotten one. Almost as annoyed as he’d been when his partner had gone off with Lucerne...

Then it occurred to me, “Pritchel,” I wasn’t the pony that he’d been hoping to get.

“The large mare, you mean?” I saw Yatima’s brow furrow and a grimace crease her lips, “I do not like her, but if she is being taken advantage of like that…”

I recalled how she’d literally dragged the reformed leader of the Lancer mercenaries away to the inn, “I’m not sure that anypony’s capable of taking advantage of her,” I stated dryly. All the same though, “I’ll let her know the next time I see her though.”

“I suppose that is the right thing to do,” the zebra mare sighed. She took a breath and brightened her expression, “I am glad I could repay to you at least some fraction of the debt I owe by informing you of this. If you will excuse me, Wonderbolt.”

“Windfall, please,” I urged.

The striped pony nodded and trotted off, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which were still on Medica and his tainted drinks. If what I’d just been told was true, that certainly explained how I’d let myself go so far with Cestus. It was probably a miracle that nothing more serious had happened, honestly.

It turned out that Arginine was, in fact, not the first pony I’d have to thank for rendering unconscious before things got intimate...

I hadn’t been the only pony to drink one of those RADs though, I recalled. Foxglove had drunk one of them as well.

Right before I’d found her with Jackboot.

She’d pleaded her ignorance of what could have compelled her to do that with him. I’d never really believed her, of course. After all, what kind of pony had no concept of what they were doing in a pony like that when their faculties weren’t impaired by alcohol or drugs? It turned out that the violet unicorn had been under the influence though. She just hadn’t known about it.

I owed somepony an apology, as well as an obligation to inform them that something they were kicking themselves over doing hadn’t been their fault after all. Not that I knew where to find Foxglove at the moment. Though, I knew where she’d eventually have to return to at some point.

Homily’s hospitality had been nice and all, but I was forced to concede that Santa Mara cooking was far superior. I was going to go ahead and chalk that up to the smaller town’s easier access to the the fresh produce that the Republic’s farms turned out. Usually, high end food made with those sorts of ingredients were on the pricier side of what I was willing to spend, lest it cut into my drinking and ammunition budget. However, I was doing a lot less drinking these days, and the owners of the Sleeper Cars seemed willing to give me and my companions a free meal or two in gratitude for saving their town from the Lancers.

So it was that I came to be enjoying the freshest and tastiest vegetable stew that I’d ever had in my whole life! It was amazing…

Amazing enough that I was kind of surprised to find the place was as sparsely occupied as it was. I didn’t know what the ponies of Santa Mara got up to on any particular day, to be fair, but I felt like a place serving food this good would be a bit more popular in the evening. I supposed, though, that any dip in attendance could be attributed to the local ponies still trying to recover from everything that they’d gone through recently.

My friends were certainly pretty busy. Arginine was still out helping the town’s doctor deal with injured ponies. Starlight was supervising her entourage of ‘reformed’ mercenaries, Ramparts was off reorganizing what passed for a militia in the face of losing their Republic defenders. Foxglove was looking at what she could do to set up automated defenses to help―or she was done with that...

I looked over as the purple unicorn slumped into the seat next to me and placed a haggard order with the barpony for a Sparkle Cola and some stew of her own. Her mane was mussed with grease and grime, but her expression, while showing her fatigue, was addly pleased. She noted my attention and her thin little smile broadened.

“Between McMaren and here, I really need to think about charging for my services: I’d make a killing,” she tugged a rag out of her barding and wiped her face. The effectiveness of the already quite thoroughly soiled rag was debatable.

I returned the mare’s smile, “something to think about when we’re done with all of this?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. Then, “is that really where we’re at now? Thinking about our ‘happily ever after’s?”

“It feels like it,” I nodded, “once we get to Seaddle and tell Princess Luna everything...that should be about it, I think. The fighting between the Republic and the Rangers will be over, and everypony can turn their attention to Arginine’s stable. I mean, I guess we could all still help with that, but I’m not sure what the five of us could add to a whole army.

“If you wanted to just walk away right then and go back to McMaren and Homily, make a life for yourselves; nopony would hold it against you,” I finished, leaning into the violet unicorn to give her a playful nudge.

The mechanic smiled warmly as she entertained the prospect. Her expression faded somewhat when she looked back at me, “...is that what you and Arginine are going to do? Make a life for yourselves?”

Ah. I could see where this was going now. I had sort of promised her an explanation. I took a deep breath, “what the two of us have...I don’t think it’s anything like that. It’s...convenient. I’m a little young to be shopping around for the love of my life anyway.”

“I see,” Foxglove said, pausing for a long while as she contemplated her next words, “so the two of you just...what? Bang it out every night?”

“We’ve only had sex the one time,” I returned, squirming uncomfortably in my seat beneath the subject of our conversation. I was suddenly glad for the near-empty nature of the inn’s little bar, “we just sort of fool around mostly. He makes me feel good.”

“I’m not going to pretend I’m happy to hear about this,” she said with a sigh, “but I know that I’m the last pony you want to hear from about picking your partners more carefully. I guess I just want to know if you think there’s any sort of future there for the two of you.”

That much I guess I hadn’t thought about. At least, not as far as Arginine and I were concerned. Perhaps that was telling, in its own little way. I certainly had my plans for the future where love and a family were concerned―broadly speaking, of course. There wasn’t any specific face that I’d assigned to the hypothetical future Mr. Windfall in my musings.
Nor had I placed any real expiration date on whatever it was that I was sharing with Arginine. I suppose that I just kind of figured that he’d wander off somewhere once we defeated his stable. At which point, the two of us would stop being any sort of item, official or otherwise. It wasn’t that I wanted him to go; I just couldn’t think of any specific reason that he’d have to stay.

“Neither of us is thinking about anything like that,” I told the other mare, shaking my head, “this is just about relieving stress.”

“Oh,” she was quiet again. Her order arrived and she simply sat and stared at it for a long while, “so this is something that you suggested…?”

My initial reaction was to be annoyed about Foxglove’s hangup on who I was intimate with and why. She could think whatever she wanted to about how old I was; the truth was that I’d seen and done more in my years than she or many other ponies had. I was a grown mare, whatever my years might actually suggest.

That was my first thought. Then I remembered where the purple unicorn mare was coming at this from with regards to her own history: she’d been older than me when she’d been taken advantage of and coerced into sex just to keep herself alive. She’d been used, abused, and―in the end―sold off like cattle to cover a gambling debt. That had been her chief objection to Jackboot after all: how much he reminded her of the sorts of ponies that had enslaved her. Who could possibly blame her for being wary about the possibility of seeing that happen to somepony else?

“Do you really think that RG, of all ponies, is pressuring me into sex?” I flashed the mare a dubious smirk, accentuating the absurdity of the notion. Foxglove managed a relieved little snort and finally shook her head, taking a her first bite of her meal. I too turned to resume eating my own stew, “besides, it’s way overrated anyway. I mean, come on, all that fuss over ten seconds of ‘meh’?”

I abruptly turned when I heard the mare beside me start to choke on her food. Fortunately, the unicorn managed to recover rather quickly after a few coughs. Upon seeing my concerned expression, she offered a sheepish smile and massaged her throat, “wrong pipe. Sorry,” she turned back and resumed eating, “ten seconds, huh? That sounds about right.”

The perplexing note of her barely suppressed amusement held my attention for a few seconds longer, “uh huh…” with a frown, I went back to my own bowl.

A moment later, “although...while we’re on the subject…”

“Yes?” the other mare prompted, a faint note of concern in her voice.

“I learned something today. Do you remember the first time we met those bounty hunters? When they had Jackboot and we were pretending to be Princess Luna and a Republican Guard pony?” the mechanic nodded, her expression quizzical, “and you remember how we took a couple bottles of Sparkle Cola RAD when we left?” another, slower nod, “I learned today that they may have been tainted with something.”

“What?”

“Yatima said that Medica, the zebra bounty hunter, was known to drug drinks that he gave to mares. It was a drug that would make them, like, too horny to control themselves, or something like that,” Foxglove was giving me a dubious look now, and I sighed, “before you went and...did that stuff with Jackboot, do you remember feeling uncomfortable? Like, a little bit of pain or something?” I started to revisit my own thoughts and the sensations that I’d been feeling earlier that day, which didn’t make this conversation any less awkward, “maybe you started thinking of Jackboot as being, well, yours? A stallion that you...needed?”

Foxglove had grown quiet, though I could see her eye widening in recognition. I wasn’t all that far off the mark. She slowly looked away and hunched further over her meal, idly rubbing herself with her fetlocks like a variation of a hug, “...I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to do it. It just...hurt so much…

“I thought, maybe if I didn’t look, and got it over with quick…”

I extended a wing and draped it over the mare. She jerked slightly at the first contact, but then relaxed again, “it wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I reacted how I did before.”

The violet mare let out a shaky little laugh, “I never thought I’d be relieved to hear that I wasn’t actually attracted to a stallion I’d slept with, but here we are,” she closed her eyes and a wry smile finally stretched across her face, “I’m just glad I didn’t betray your trust like that. Not really.”

“You’re a good friend, Foxy,” I said, leaning up against the mare and hugging her to me with my wing, “I’m not sure I’ve ever thanked you for sticking by me like you do. Thank you.”

She leaned her head over mine and smiled more broadly, “don’t mention it,” and with that, we resumed our meal, exchanging the occasional bit of banter.

A minute later, my attention was drawn back towards the doorway as an exhausted looking Starlight dragged herself across the inn’s interior to join us at the bar. Without even needing to say a word, a duplicate of Foxglove’s order was soon deposited in front of her. I indicated my thanks to the barpony on her behalf. I could really get used to this kind of gratitude from ponies.

“Rough day?” the violet mechanic next to her asked.

“I haven’t suffered this many mana migraines since I created the Staff of Sameness…”

“The what?” I asked.

“Nevermind,” the pink mare sighed, finally looking up and flaring her horn to life in an effort to pick up her Sparkle Cola. The bottle quivered briefly before there was an audible ‘pop’ and ‘hiss’ and the cyan aura blinked out of existence. Starlight flinched, rubbed her horn, and then let out a second, much more aggrieved, sigh before picking the bottle up with her hoof and staring at it for a while before turning to address the barpony, “I don’t suppose you could Kerry this up for me?”

Everypony in the room looked at the mare quizzically. She glance about, noting the confused expressions of her peers and rolled her eyes, “alcohol. I want alcohol, please,” the barpony smiled and quickly produced an open bottle of Wild Pegasus, sliding it over to the pink unicorn mare. Starlight shot a disappointed look at the proffered drink and once more looked back to the Santa mara resident tending the establishment, “I don’t suppose you have anything else back there?” they shook their head, prompting a grimace from the unicorn as she looked in our direction.

“I see this stuff everywhere. Please tell me that Wild Pegasus isn’t the only alcohol that survived the apocalypse?”
I shrugged, “I mean, you can find other stuff like Jennessy or Crystal Heart from time to time, but Wild Pegasus is definitely the most common. Why?”

“Ugh,” Starlight groaned, sinking in her seat, “why did this have to be what survived? Couldn’t have been Johnnie Trotter, or Bit-In-Horse, even some Royal Crown…”

“Should you really even be drinking anyway if you’ve got mana burn?” Foxglove asked tentatively.

“Hangovers and mana burn don’t stack,” the other mare quipped before finally giving in and tipping the half full bottle back into her mouth. She swallowed down the stiff drink and coughed a couple of times before taking a deep breath, “might even take the edge off,” she wheezed. Another grimace as she regarded the bottle clutched in her hoof, “oi...I’d give Celestia’s princedom for some Trotter…but I guess the good stuff was the first to go, and now all that’s left is this swill.”
Foxglove and I exchanged looks. I mean, it wasn’t like I really enjoyed the taste of the stuff either, but I didn’t drink Wild Pegasus because I craved something sweet and delicious. I did it to numb myself. Much like Starlight was doing right now. In that context, what did how it reacted with your tongue matter?

Not that it was unusual for the pink unicorn mare to find pretty much anything to complain about where the current state of the world was concerned, and how it differed from the one that she had effectively left behind. Not that I was about to chastise anypony for bemoaning the ‘way things used to be’ in the face of how often I’d thought back on ‘the good old days’ when Jackboot had been alive. Between the two of us, I idly wondered if it was possible for anypony to move on and accept that, sometimes, things went to shit, and you just had to move on from there.

Of course, now that Starlight was here and otherwise unoccupied, this might be a good chance for me to address a matter that had been bothering me for most of the day, “so, Starlight...about this morning…”

“Hmm?” the pink unicorn prompted through a mouthful of her meal.

“The singing and all that…” I tried to come up with the best way to phrase my most pertinent questions. However, never one to have been the master of eloquent speech, I ended up just asking, “...how?”

Starlight Glimmer swallowed her morsel and smiled at me with amusement before noting the equally inquisitive look on Foxglove’s face, “now you,” she began, nodding at me, “I get that you grew up without ever going to a real school or anything, so I’m honestly surprised you know as much as you do,” while I ponedered whether that was intended to actually be a compliment or not, she turned her head towards the other unicorn mare, “but you were in one of those stables that they kept talking about on the radio all the time in those ads; ‘A Brighter Future; Underground!’, and all that. I assume they had a school in that place?”

“They did,” Foxglove acknowledged in a guarded tone, ready to instinctively leap to the defense of her old home’s honor if Starlight made any comment she thought was unduly critical.

“And they never covered Singing? Not even once?” the purple mare slowly shook her head, “amazing,” she sounded less ‘amazed’, and more ‘resigned’ to me, “I guess Stable-Tec figured they could cut some costs by not hiring an abundance of consultants from the Ministry of Image.

“Oh well, I guess that means that you two get to have the first lesson in Pony Magick―with a ‘K’―in nearly two centuries,” she took a second pull from the bottle of whiskey and adjusted herself in her seat to better address us. The two of us reciprocated. I certainly found myself genuinely intrigued by the prospect of an in-depth explanation of what happened to me. Perhaps I’d since learned that it hadn’t been responsible for my flinging myself at Arginine like I had, but there was no mistaking that it had had an effect on me during the battle with the Lancers.

“So, I at least assume that you two both know how all ponies are magical in some way, not just unicorns?” her attention was directed much more keenly at myself than the purple mechanic. Much to even my own chagrin, I met her gaze with a blank one as I tried to process what she could possibly be talking about. Of course I didn’t have magic. I was a pegasus. I didn’t have a horn.

Starlight was visibly frustrated by my lackluster response, “oh, boy…” she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “well, then that’s where we’ll start: all ponies, even pegasi and earth ponies, possess inate magic of their own, different from―but quite unlike―the magic wielded by unicorns.”

My face wrinkled up in disbelief, “I have never used magic in my life,” I insisted.

“You use magic literally every time you fly,” the pink mare deadpanned before jabbing a hoof at my wings, “your wings are way to small and flap way too slow to possibly get you off the ground like a bird’s do. For you to fly without any magical assistance whatsoever, you’d need wings that stretched all the way to that door,” she stated, spreading her hooves as wide as they’d go while nodding in the direction of the inn’s entrance across the room, “which you obviously don’t. Then there’s the hovering, the wall-walking, the cloud manipulation―suffice it to say: yes; you use magic.

“That’s just the way it is, whether you’re conscious of it or not,” the unicorn said firmly, “and that’s all that needs to be said on that matter. It’s only tangentially related to Singing anyway.

“So,” the pink mare redirected the conversation back onto the original topic, “it’s obviously not just ponies that are magical then, isn’t it? Griffons can do nearly everything that pegasi can do. Zebras have some weird connection to the land that goes beyond even what earth ponies can do. Dragons eat rocks and breath freakin’ fire.

“You’d be hard pressed to find a race in this world that isn’t magical in some way, even if it’s only very passive magic that let’s them live longer or simply not get sick as often.”

“Okay,” Foxglove conceded, “but what’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m getting there,” Starlight continued, tersely, “the reason why nearly everything is magical in some way is because the world is magical. Like, the planet itself. It’s teeming with magical energy. You just need to look at how gems are so receptive to spells to see proof of that.

“Now, while it’s true that every race’s magic is different in its manifestation―telekinesis, flight, fire-breathing, whatever―it all shares a common root origin, since everything on Equus was born of Equus. Theoretically, if somepony were to tap into a way to affect that primordial aether from which all magic originated, then it would be possible to manipulate, and even draw upon, the magic of many different ponies―and even other races―to cast a ‘spell’ of sorts. Though, obviously not a true unicorn spell.”

Foxglove began to nod along with the other unicorn, “that makes sense, sure. But how does singing figure into this?”

“Because it draws upon the single unifying trait of the planet’s magic: Harmony,” Starlight smiled in satisfaction as she waited for us to be fully enraptured by the profound revelation that she had bestowed upon us. Judging by how her features began to slowly fall, it was clear that our reaction was...underwhelming, “what?”

Foxglove and I exchanged a brief look before turning back to the pink mare, “Harmony?” the mechanic said in a droll tone, “really?”

Starlight jerked with the rebuke, “what do you mean, ‘really’? Yes, ‘really’!” she groaned in frustration, “okay, yes, I’m oversimplifying things a bit, but considering that neither of you even knew that pegasi used magic to fly, I figured that delving into the finer points of ley line frequencies, aether field harmonics, and mana attenuation might have gone over your heads, no offense…”

Considering that I knew the technical definition of only a few of those words, and absolutely nothing of what it meant when those words were combined like that, I was perfectly willing to concede the point. Honestly, I was still processing the ‘flying using magic’ revelation that had been dropped on me a couple minutes ago. I certainly moved my wings to fly, and the faster I moved them, the faster I flew; but I wasn’t about to simply dismiss what Starlight Glimmer was saying either. It wasn’t like it really changed things for me. However the mechanics of it worked in the end: I was a flying pony. Full Stop.

The pink unicorn mare continued on, “Singing, and projecting a bit of your own magic into the world around you, while keeping your mind intently focused on your desires, is a way that creatures―not just ponies―can project their will into the world by drawing directly upon Equus’ magick―again, with a ‘K’―itself. It’s honestly the most powerful incantation that can be invoked known to ponykind.”

“If it’s so powerful, then how did Equestria mange to lose the war?” I asked.

The other mare adopted a sneer, though it wasn’t directed at me. Again she found herself feeling antagonistic towards her former contemporary comrades from the past, “because war is the antithesis of harmony. As such, trying to use Singing to win a war can’t possibly work,” she shook her head in resignation, “sure, it can help soldiers win battle son a small scale, in the moment; but that’s because the thoughts of those soldiers at the time aren’t necessarily focused on killing and destroying. They want to survive―to live through the battle. Life and harmony go hoof-in-hoof, so Singing works then.

“But trying to use magic―any kind of magic―to destroy your enemies, and think that everything will work out alright? Twilight was an idiot. Most of the rest of her ministry were even dumber than that.

“Magic doesn’t win wars. It can’t.”

“How so?”

Starlight Glimmer snorted softly, “because for somepony to ‘win’ a war, then that means that there has to be a ‘loser’ too, doesn’t it? That’s not Harmony. So when you try to use energies borne of Harmony to do that, the magic gets corrupted. It goes wrong. It turns to Chaos,” she closed her eyes and shook her head, “nopony wanted to hear that though. Not back then. That’s just ‘defeatist’ talk. It was tantamount to treason in some cases,” another dismissive snort.

“I did what I could to mitigate the damage. I came up with my own little plan involving the Crystal Heart. It was the purest magic I’d ever come across, made up entirely of the love and hope of an entire nation of ponies. If anything was capable to saving Equestria from itself, it would have been the Heart.”

“Obviously things didn’t work out,” Foxglove noted.

“The research took longer than I thought it would. It was a relic that had been lost for a thousand years. I was effectively working from scratch, trying to reinvent a whole new school of magic that had been forgotten by the world. Something that was way beyond cutie marks,” she sighed, a faint smile finally touching her lips again, “got sidetracked too. A family,” the smile disappeared, “...a foal. The war had been essentially stagnant for years, neither side gaining any real ground. I let myself think I had plenty of time to come up with a solution…

“...and then the war ended,” she shrugged, glancing at the pair of us, “oops.”

“We all make mistakes.”

All eyes turned to see Yatima and Ramparts stepping up to the bar now. In a dramatic change of pace, it was the brown earth pony stallion who was carrying their child, the striped brown form straddling his withers. I smiled as I noticed the ginger step of the Republican Guard pony, who was glancing over his shoulder with noted frequency, as though he felt compelled to continually ensure that the precious cargo he was transporting was still in place where he’d left it.

The zebra mare gently nuzzled the father of her child before looking back at us and continuing, “and we are, all of us, prone to taking for granted the time we have to accomplish what we desire in life.”

I vividly recalled when I naively thought that Jackboot and I would simply wander the Neighvada valley forever. One way or another, that life was inevitably going to come to an end, of course. I’d simply never really put a lot of thought into what would come ‘after’. It had been a date that was years, maybe even decades, in the future.

And now it was months in the past. Similarly, it was looking more and more like our current pressing affair was nearing an end as well. Yet, I’d still drawn up very little in the way of a concrete plan for what I’d do with myself in the coming weeks. I mean, I suppose that I could go back to hunting raiders and such…

...but would I be doing that on my own? I couldn’t, in good conscience, ask Foxglove to come with me and deprive her of a happy life in McMaren with Homily. Ramparts would certainly have to go back to serving the Republic. Starlight might hang around, maybe? I vaguely recalled her having said something about finding out what happened to her husband once she’d located her daughter, so probably not.

Could I convince RG to stay with me? If not, would I really go it alone?

“Giving that whole ‘fatherhood’ thing a try there, Ramparts?” Foxglove teased as she got up from her seat and walked over to gush over the little colt.

The stallion shifted uneasily, looking towards the striped mare, “I’ve managed to convince Yatima that it would be safer if she moved to Seaddle with me. I can’t have family with me in the barracks, so we’d need to find a place of our own…”

“I’ve got a place you can have,” I said almost without thinking. The couple looked at me in surprise, “it’s not much, but it’s paid for through the next six months,” one of the first things that Jackboot had done with one of our bigger paydays was sign an extended lease with the pony that owned our apartment. With the traveling that we did, we couldn’t always be sure we’d be in town when the rent was due, so he’d made sure that it wasn’t something we’d have to worry about all the time. Our landlord hadn’t resisted at all. If anything, he was positively tickled by the prospect of having tenants that paid their rent in advance. It seemed a novel concept to him.

The pair exchanged glances before looking back at me, “you’re sure?” Ramparts’ asked.

“I’m not going to need it. I don’t see myself hanging around Seaddle much after this” I assured him, “I’ve sort of needed an excuse to fix up my family’s old ranch anyway,” not that I intended to start up a career raising brahmin any time soon. Putting my old house back together would at least keep me out of trouble though.

I very quickly found myself wrapped up in a hug from the striped mare, “yours is a kindness I will spend many years repaying,” she said in my ear as she clutched me tight. Beyond, I could see Ramparts smiling as he added, “I’ll be sure to drop by and give you a hoof with that. I did sort of get a lot of it blown up, as I recall…”

“The Steel Rangers helped,” I reminded him, “but, thanks. I appreciate it.”

Foxglove looked up from where she was now sat back on her haunches, snuggling little Baraka, “I guess that’s one ‘happily ever after’ nailed down, at least,” she smiled at me. Her comment earned a puzzled look from Ramparts, but she was already rubbing noses with the giggling colt again and oblivious to her surroundings.

Even more vegetable stew was produced for the pair. Ramparts took his seat at the bar, but Yatima opted to curl up in one of the dining booths so that young Baraka could suckle while she ate. Foxglove feigned a remorseful expression as she gave up the foal so that he could have his own dinner, but was easily soothed by promises of more opportunities to play with the little pony at a later date.

This was nice, I thought to myself, as I looked around the room that was slowly filling with my friends, who were all starting to chat with one another as they shared a warm meal and refreshing beverages. It was certainly one of the more laid back evenings I could recall having, even when compared to McMaren. Maybe it was because I hadn’t had to watch anypony get brutally murdered right in front of me, or be party to ending the life of a young tormented foal.

My budding smile broadened even further as I saw Arginine step through the door as well, looking around with what was, for him, a mildly curious expression, “I presume that I was the last to be informed?”

I quickly fluttered over and gently nuzzled the stallion, a move which he politely reciprocated. Since everypony knew we were ‘together’ now, it wasn’t like we had to keep things secret any longer. Then I finally processed what he’d said, “informed?” I asked with a quirked brow, “somepony told you to come here?”

“Indeed,” the large gray unicorn stallion nodded, “a pony stopped by the town’s clinic and informed me that a meal had been prepared for us as an expression of thanks for our deeds earlier today. Is that not why you are here?”

“Me? No. I was just hungry,” I looked around at the others, “isn’t that why you guys are here too?”

Foxglove was the first to respond, “I mean, well, I was hungry, but I didn’t come by until somepony let me know they’d whipped something up for us.”

“Somepony said they’d supervise the Lancers for the last little bit of the wall if I wanted to grab a bite,” Starlight chimed in.

“We wrapped up the last of the marksmareship training and somepony came by and suggested I get Yatima and bring her here for dinner,” Ramparts added.

I blinked. That seemed...convenient. Perhaps a little too convenient, though maybe I was just being paranoid, “what did this pony look like?”

“Green mare.”

“Earth pony mare.”

“Green earth pony.”

I recoiled slightly from the simultaneous onslaught of the description of the individual in question. My eyes panned around the room, “so, a green earth pony mare came and got all of you?” they nodded. My hackles started to rise up as I felt myself growing inexplicably concerned. Anypony who hadn’t led a life like mine would probably have thought that I was allowing myself to be more worried than I should have over what was surely a harmless coincidence. The thing was, was that I didn’t like that it had been a single pony who had come and gotten all of us―and just us―to come down here for dinner.

In McMaren, everypony had celebrated the day’s victory. It had been a bit of a public spectacle, honestly, where all of the inhabitants could go and be jubilant for a few hours. Surely the ponies of this town would want to share a singular celebration just like that. Why would you want to sequester the ponies who’d saved your lives away, out of sight, like this?

The door opened and my eyes were drawn to yet one more figure who was stepping inside. Instinctively, I arched my wing, exposing the holstered pistol that it normally concealed. I don’t know why I thought that I’d need it in this instance. It was just that the last few revelations had put me on edge. Seeing who it was that had stepped through didn’t help to put me at ease either.

We all turned to see an older earth pony mare, most of her seafoam green coat hidden beneath a faded gray sportcoat. Her amber eyes scanned the room, seeming to take a quick headcount of the ponies present, “good, you’re all here.”

I kept my wing cocked slightly as I stepped away from Arginine and squared off with the new arrival. Behind me, I could feel my friends shifting around as well. The atmosphere in the room had very quickly shifted from calm and relaxed to a tension so thick that Foxglove would have needed her eldritch lance to cut through it, “and you are…?”

The older mare cracked a wan smile, nodding her head, “I apologize for not making introductions sooner. I was...incapacitated during the Lancer’s initial attack. By the time I was well enough to move around again, I was informed that you yourself were ‘indisposed’,” I cringed slightly at the reminder, but the mare continued without pause, “after that, I found I had a lot to catch up on.

“My name is Quorum; I’m the mayor of Santa Mara. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wonderbolt,” she extended her hoof to me, “and I am genuinely sorry it has taken me so long to do so.”

Tentatively, I took the offered hoof, and permitted myself to relax. A little. Something about this whole meeting was still feeling a little off, but I couldn’t pin down any details quite yet. In the back of my mind, a little pink earth pony was eyeing the mayor critically as she donned a plaid deerstalker cap and popped a wooden pipe into her mouth...which proceeded to blow bubbles, for some unfathomable reason.

...My imagination was doing very strange things lately.

“It’s Windfall, by the way,” I said and the other mare nodded, “and I’m glad we could help. Honestly, I feel like I’m the one who owes you an apology,” I added, a little sheepishly, “since the Lancers were only doing this to get to me. I kind of exposed some shady crap they were pulling in New Reino, and they’ve had it out for me ever since.”

“That business with the wife and daughter of the pony that owns that big caravan company out of Seaddle,” Quorum nodded, “I’d heard about that. Well, trust me, there are no ponies harboring ill feelings towards you here,” she assured me.

“Good,” I still had yet to pull my wing fully back up against my side, keeping my eyes focused on the town’s mayor, “because, quite frankly, I’m kind of curious why you wanted to get us all here. In one place...” I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that the barpony was slipping out through the kitchen door, leaving the six of us alone with the mayor, “...alone.”

It was at this moment that my companions fully grasped what had been bothering me up until this moment. They all stood up and started to spread themselves throughout the room, save for Yatima, who was shifting around to shield her young foal from whatever danger might arise in the near future.

My pipbuck informed me that, in addition to the town’s mayor, there were two other local ponies outside the inn. However, I could also see that all three of their blips were still showing up as a brilliant and steady amber glow. They weren’t harboring any hostile intentions towards us. At least, not yet. I knew full well that could change in an instant though. Not that knowing any of this helped to explain why any of this was happening.

“What’s going on?”

Quorum smiled and nodded, “you’re a keen one, clearly,” I immediately slid my legs out in a defensive stance, ready to launch into action. In response, the green mare took a step back and raised her forelegs into the air in surrender, “please, Wonderbolt, we mean you no harm!” she certainly sounded sincere enough, but I was still waiting for her explanation.

“This town has been paying a lot of attention to your exploits of late. The whole Valley has, honestly,” Quorum said, still holding her pose, “we respect you, and what you’re doing.”

“But?” I very nearly growled at the mare, earning a wince from her.

“But...we were worried that you might try to stop us from doing what was necessary,” she sighed, “we didn’t want to try and fight you, of course; that’s only ever gone poorly for anypony who’s ever tried!” the green earth pony adopted an apologetic smile, “so we thought we’d just try to keep you occupied with some food and drink until it was all over with.

“So, please,” she gestured towards the bar, “finish your dinner. Everything is already underway and they’ll be done in minutes. Just...stay here a while longer and let us do what we must. Please.”

Underway? Done in minutes? My mind raced to fill the gaps in her cryptic statements. I was very nearly positive that these ponies didn’t want us dead, but that wasn’t quite the same as not wanting to harm us. Even so, the alternatives didn’t strike me as any more likely. Surely they weren’t going to try and pass us off to slavers or something like that. Were they?

On a hunch, I glanced over my shoulder, peering through the still open door that led to the room I’d slept in that day. None of us had been here for hours. Anypony could have snuck in there and taken my gear if the goal had been to get us as disarmed as we could be. Most of us still had at least one weapon of some sort at hoof, so we weren’t helpless. Besides, I could still clearly see all of my gear on the floor where I’d thrown it earlier. They weren’t trying to do anything to us.

So then what could they possibly be doing, and to whom, when all of us were right here? Unless she’d meant...

It Was Under ‘E’!

“...the Lancers,” I whispered under my breath, glancing back at Starlight Glimmer, and then to the others. Everypony who might possibly have objected to the ponies of this town doing anything to the ponies that the pink mare had Reformed was right here in this room. My horrified gaze locked back onto the mayor. I felt my throat go dry, “where are they?”

At that precise moment there was a rattling of gunfire, faint and muffled through the steel walls of the train cars that the inn was built out of. Everypony except for the mayor whipped their head in the direction of the sound. The green earth pony bowed her head and said in a soft voice, “a shallow grave just outside town, it would seem.

“Please, you must under―” the rest of her sentence was interrupted by a startled yelp as she was rather unceremoniously brushed aside from what must have looked for all intents and purposes to be a white and teal gust of wind.

It had been instinct, and an ultimately useless one at that. I couldn’t outrun a bullet, even as quick as I was. I certainly wasn’t going to outpace any shots that had already long since found their marks. All that I accomplished was to arrive just in time to see a few of the townsponies that were gathered outside of Santa Mara approach the sight of their latest deed and begin to straighten out the few Lancers that hadn’t been gracious enough to collapse perfectly within the trench that had been dug for them. Others were fetching shovels and making their way towards the massive mound of dirt on the far side. Scoops of the dry, parched, earth were scattered upon the fresh corpses.

I could only hover and watch, my expression numb as I observed the bodies of the Lancers piled in the mass grave. Memories of my recent interaction with one of them, and seeing how contently they’d obeyed Starlight’s every order as they built up the town’s defenses, played through my head. Their demure manner. Their smiling, yet vacant, faces. Their compliance.

They’d probably walked themselves right up to the lip of that casm and waited to be shot without a single shred of protest. All in the interest of not wanting to cause their murderers any undue difficulty. My stomach twisted itself into a knot at the thought of what had happened here. I was about to be sick.

“―et the fuck away from me, assholes!”

My head whipped around to see a large silver unicorn mare slinging a massive hammer around in the air around her, keeping a group of armed townsponies at a safe distance. At her back was the slight frame of her zebra companion, holding a glass bottle in his hoof that was filled with a sickly yellow liquid. He seemed to be debating on which or the aggressors to lob the concoction at first.

“No,” I heard myself whisper just before I pivoted my body in the air and shot towards the ground. A much louder and more pronounced, “Noooooo!” rebuked everypony down below, Santa Maran and bounty hunter alike, drawing their gaze to the little ivory pegasus mare diving at them. I inverted and brought my hind legs up to connect with one armed pony, knocking them nearly ten yards across the ground, before bouncing to another and putting my forehoof across their jaw.

The townsponies immediately drew away now, giving a wide berth to the little pony who was widely reported to have decimated a whole squad of Steel Rangers on her own. That was obviously an exaggeration on Miss Neighvada’s part of the reality, but what was a little artistic license where boosting the Valley’s morale was concerned? It was certainly doing me a favor right this moment, as none of those ponies wanted to become my third victim.

“Nopony else dies today!” I screamed at the top of my lungs through ragged breaths. It was a good thing that they didn’t appear eager to fight. It was getting kind of difficult to see everypony clearly through the tears that were welling up in my eyes. Too many competing and conflicting emotions were battling inside me right now. It was hard to focus. I was fighting back too many impulses to count. A little yellow pegasus was beside herself with grief even as she tried to remind me to be merciful in what looked like even a half-hearted attempt even to herself. Even Kindness, it seemed, could reach its limits...

‘Mercy’ was a very difficult concept for me to rationalize right now though. Not in the face of what I’d just seen happen. I’d allowed Starlight to grant mercy to those mercenaries, in lieu of simply killing them all like I might have had to otherwise. It now seemed to have been a wasted effort. Later I might find myself wondering if it would have simply been kinder to slay them while they had still be themselves, and not those hollow shells that looked like ponies.

“Nopony else dies,” I seethed again, through teeth that were clenched so tightly together I was convinced that they’d shatter completely if I applied even another ounce of pressure, “nopony else,” I repeated, like a mantra. I had to. I had to keep saying it, both aloud and in my head. Because, if I let that thought lapse, for even a moment, a lot of ponies were going to die today.

A whole town full.

I clamped my wings down to my side now. I didn’t trust myself with access to a weapon. It would have made it simpler to consider the possibility of killing everypony. This was a town of murderers. All of them. They’d all conspired to murder those Lancers behind my back. They were bad ponies, each and every one of them.

I killed bad ponies. It was what I did.

“Get out of here,” I hated myself for the quaiver in my voice as I spoke. My limbs were trembling as I fought every urge I had in order to not lash out. I turned to Pritchel and Medica, “leave,” I repeated to the pair of stunned looking ponies, who stared at me in shock. A second’s pause, then, “RUN!”

That was the first time I’d seen the larger mare regard me with anything approaching genuine fear.
She ran though. Her and her zebra companion both. Telling her what that conniving little striped stallion was up to with those bottles of RAD was going to have to wait, it seemed. Letting them get to safety took precedent right now.

A twitch of movement caught my eye as I saw one of the townsponies raise up a rifle in their telekinetic field to gun down the fleeing bounty hunters. With a twitch of my wings, I was upon them.

The blow I landed snapped her horn off at the base. The scream she let out was bone chilling. It at least garnered the full attention of every other pony present, and kept them from trying their own luck at getting a shot off, “nopony. Else. Dies,” I repeated, each and every syllable dripping with my barely contained desire to break that very vow.

“Nopony else dies…” I repeated more softly, even as I ignored the tears streaming down my cheeks.

What was I supposed to do now? They’d all simply slaughtered those ponies. They were murderers. The Wonderbolt put down murderers. It’s why they’d gotten me out of sight with all my friends, because they knew that I’d try and stop them from doing this. They’d hoped to get it all done and over with before I found out, and trust that I wouldn’t do anything in retaliation afterwards.

After all, the Wonderbolt didn’t just erase whole towns, did she? She’d fight to stop somepony from getting killed, but once they were already dead and nopony else was in danger; what then? I’d spared that Steel Ranger in McMaren for doing something very similar to this. Doubtlessly, Homily had used that incident in one of her broadcasts to demonstrate my compassion, and idealize some sort of merciful benevolence that I possessed which set me apart from the ‘common’ pony. To demonstrate that I wasn’t, in fact, just a particularly picky raider. I was a ‘hero’, and ‘heroes’ only killed when it was necessary.

Would I become a villain if I ended this town right now?

They’d heard about how I reacted in McMaren, and now they were taking advantage of the precedent that I’d set there. They were abusing my ideals for their own purposes.

So that they could get away with putting dozens of harmless ponies into a hole.

Was I going to allow that to happen? Could I really stand idly by and let ponies get away with murder on this scale, and claim that I was simply upholding some inane ideal of ‘mercy’ in the pursuit of not causing more ponies to suffer? These ponies were going to get away with killing those Lancers in cold blood if I did nothing. Even if I told the authorities in Seaddle, why would they do anything? The Lancers had attacked Santa Mara. They’d been raiders.

Killing raiders was what good ponies did.

It was what I did...

“...nopony...else...dies…”

The words rang hollow this time, and I knew that it was all a lie. In a scant few moments, everypony was going to die. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

So I left.

I flitted up into the fading evening light and headed back to the Sleeper Cars. The two ponies that my pipbuck had shown as being outside were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Quorum. I suppose that there’d been no reason for them to stick around once I’d left. The deed was done, and I’d been unable to stop it. Mission accomplished. My companions were still there though. It seemed that I wasn’t the only one who was taking recent events badly. Starlight Glimmer looked to be in quite the state too.

It made sense. She had Reformed them; turned them back into happy and helpful members of society. In response, they’d been summarily executed by the residents of the very town that they’d been helping to restore. Hardly a fitting recompense, was it?

“Why?” I heard her saying as I trotted by on my way to my room and my gear, “why’d they have to do that? They were good ponies now!”

There are no ‘good’ ponies, Jackboot’s words echoed around in my head, mocking me, as I started donning equipment. I left my weapons unloaded. I didn’t trust myself with rounds quite yet. It could end up being some time before I did. Certainly not while Santa Mara was still within sight.

“Windfall,” I heard Arginine say from the doorway, “are our suspicions true? Have the Lancer mercenaries been euthanized?”

“Murdered, you mean?” I spat at the larger pony while fumbling with a rebellious strap, “yeah,” I swallowed back a lump of bile in my throat as I once more saw the image of the bullet-riddled bodies in my head. Something more to haunt my dreams. Perfect, “they’re dead. All of them.

“They’re dead, and I’m leaving. I’m leaving before everypony else in this town dies too.”

An amber glow enveloped the buckle that was thwarting me as the stallion’s magic finished securing my barding for me, “very well. I shall pass word to the others to prepare to depart as well.”

My hoof slammed into the wall, sending a resounding clap of thunder through the inn. I bowed my head and pounded the wall again and again and again. We were leaving. A whole town full of ponies who were willing to just straight up slaughter dozens of helpless victims; and we were just going to leave. The Wonderbolt was a hero. She was supposed to serve out justice and stuff. She was supposed to fight the bad ponies! Now she was just going to leave a whole town full of them and just fly along on her way without doing anything about it.

“It’s not right,” I snarled through clenched teeth. Arginine paused in the doorway and simply stared at me. I looked to the stallion, seeking some of that monotone wisdom that he always seemed to have handy in situations like this, “what am I supposed to do? What would a good pony do?

“These ponies did a bad thing; they have to be punished, right? That’s how you make the Wasteland a better place: you punish ponies for doing bad things so that ponies stop doing bad things anymore. That’s what justice is!

“Right?”

The larger stallion was quiet for a moment, then, “if ponies are only behaving themselves to avoid punishment, then it is doubtful that they can be considered truly ‘good’. Nor can they be relied upon to continue acting in that way when they perceive that they will not be punished for any transgression that they may commit.”

I looked back towards the wall, “so you’re saying they did this because they knew I wouldn’t do anything about it?”

“If they genuinely believed there would be severe repercussions, I suspect they would have been less likely to take such actions, yes. Of course, given that you were not intending to remain here forever, and that the town felt understandable animosity towards the Lancer mercenaries, this could have been seen as an inevitable outcome.”

“They were Reformed though,” I insisted, “they were good ponies now…”

“Yet they had not been prior to today. Indeed, they had engaged in many heinous activities previously, to include plotting your own murder,” Arginine pointed out, “there is likely a litany of crimes of which you are even ignorant of which they have collectively engaged in.

“Yet, you and Miss Glimmer gave them what, effectively, were commuted sentences, to live happy and productive lives.
“I suspect that the ponies which they harmed did not consider such acts to be ‘Justice’ either.”

“Killing them wouldn’t have fixed any of the wrongs that they did,” I insisted, glaring at the stallion, “at least, this way, they had a chance to try and fix some of the damage! At least they were trying to make the Wasteland better now!”

“I am not criticizing your choices,” Arginine said calmly, “merely offering what I anticipate could have been the perspective of the ponies living here. Indeed, I have no objections at all to creating a subservient variant of ponies designed to fulfill a specific task in order to aid in restoring the Wasteland,” his lip twitched ever so slightly in his own style of amusement, “though I may be biased in that regard.”

That last bit caught me off guard. Then I looked away once more. I hadn’t seen it that way, but Arginine was right. What Starlight had done wasn’t all that different from what Arginine’s stable had done: he had been modified, even on a mental level, to be able to perform the tasks that he was being ordered to do, as part of a grander design to restore the Wasteland. Starlight’s Reform spell did exactly the same thing, didn’t it?

A cold shiver ran through my spine as I realized how close I had come to letting Starlight Glimmer talk me into helping her to turn every raiders and ganger into some sort of subservient class of pony that functioned as little more than slaves themselves. Seeing how completely docile they were now, and what it was possible to do to them without resistance...there was no way that they wouldn’t be abused.

...Much the way that I’d learned the Republic abused their own form of ‘slaves’, which they politely referred to as ‘indentured servants’. Like the way that Golden Vision had been abused, all those years ago.

Not that simply killing the Lancers or letting them go would have sat much better with me either.

“This whole thing a lot easier when I was half-drunk all the time,” I sighed, slumping down to my hanches, “see a bad pony: kill them. Rinse and repeat.

“Trying to actually fix things, for real, is really, really, hard…”

Arginine shrugged, “it is entirely possible that the Wasteland can’t be fixed,” my, wasn’t that a cheery thought? “At the very least, I suspect that believing that two centuries of strife can be undone in a few months is...overly optimistic.”

“If you think it’s such a lost cause, then why are you bothering to help me at all?”

“I did not say it was a ‘lost cause’,” the stallion countered, “but I predict it will take a great deal more time than you are anticipating. Perhaps the rest of your life. Maybe even beyond.”

My shoulders slumped and I found myself staring at the floor. Years, even decades, spent going through all of this crap? These last couple of months had brought me right to this point where I felt like breaking and just giving up entirely. How was I ever going to be able to endure a whole lifetime of this? I felt my head shaking, “I can’t do it,” I closed my eyes and felt the tears starting to flow once more, “I’m not strong enough.”

There was silence in the room now. This, I knew, would be the point where Arginine recognized his mistake and finally gave up on me. He’d then either leave to go find his stable again or, more likely, kill me and take me to them as an offer of contrition for having betrayed them before. I wasn’t even sure I’d stop him if he tried. After all, what was even the point? The world was a shithole, and couldn’t be fixed, not my way. Maybe Arginine’s stable had the right idea, and all of us did need to be wiped out to make room for ponies that wouldn’t fuck everything up like we had…

I flinched as I felt something large and warm press up against my side. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned into him. It was stupid and juvenile, and I didn’t care. It felt good to have him next to me.

“On your own, you will not succeed,” Arginine said in a gentle tone, “nor should you try. Even my own stable could never hope to fashion a pony so perfect that they could conquer all challenges without aid. To that end,” he continued, “you are not alone. You never have been. Allow us to help you.”

“How?” I breathed, resting my head against his shoulder, “what could any of you do about what just happened here?”

“Perhaps nothing,” the stallion admitted with a slight shrug, which did little to make me feel any better, “but you will not know until you talk with them, will you?”

No, I suppose I wouldn’t, and it was silly to think that I would be the only one of my friends who was taking this hard. Starlight would certainly be feeling pretty rough, given that she’d been responsible for putting the Lancers in such a vulnerable state and then leaving them alone. It hadn’t been her fault, per say, but she’d still created the circumstances. That probably wasn’t sitting very well with her. The pink unicorn might benefit from a talk like the one that Arginine was having with me, now that I thought about it.

“You’re right,” I nodded before leaning up and pecking the stallion on the lips, “go and pack, I’m going to go talk with Starlight and the others,” Arginine nodded and headed for the door. I followed in his wake.

Outside, Foxglove was still comforting the pink unicorn mare. She looked about as hollow as I felt. Upon seeing me dressed in my barding and gear, Ramparts took the hint and went to go and collect his own equipment as well. I stepped over to the pair of unicorns and sat down, fixing Starlight with a sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Why did they do it?” the mare asked in a ragged tone as she sniffed and wiped her nose, “they were harmless!”

I shrugged, shaking my head, “the ponies here were...angry. They’d been hurt. In the Wasteland, when you get hurt, you hurt somepony back. It’s...how things are.

“I’m not saying it’s right, and I’m not saying I agree,” Celestia help me, but I was trying my hardest to stop being that way myself, “I’m just saying that’s what happened.”

“What are we going to do about it?” she asked, looking at me with her hard, piercing, blue eyes.

There it was. That need for vengeance, and the desire to see ponies hurt, who had just hurt you. I couldn’t help but stare at this mare, this product of a bygone age from long before a place like the Wasteland could even be fathomed by ponykind. It was now that I realized something that I suspect Arginine and the ponies in his stable had known for a long time: Ponies weren’t the way that they are now because of the Wasteland. The Wasteland was the way that it was now because of ponies.

Had it been anypony else―myself, Ramparts, even Foxglove―who’d expressed such an immediate desire for revenge, I would have believed that they were that way because, well, that was the sort of pony that life in the Wasteland created. We were all merely a product of our environments, weren’t we? That’s how I’d assumed the world worked for so long, anyway.

Starlight wasn’t a product of the Wasteland though. She’d been here for a matter of months. Surely that wasn’t nearly long enough for her to have been so thoroughly corrupted by its influences to bring her down to the level of every other pony who’d spent their whole lives here, was it? No. This wasn’t the Wasteland talking. It was just a pony. This was our natural state. If it wasn’t, then I guess that there wouldn’t have been a need for things like Reformation spells in the first place, would there?

No wonder it was so hard to fix the Wasteland, I found myself thinking as a wan smile touched my lips. The Wasteland wasn’t actually the problem, it turned out. It was just the symptom. What really needed to be fixed, were ponies.

Where did you even begin to do something like that though?

That was a question best left to be answered by much smarter ponies than me. I wasn’t in the business of fixing all of ponykind. I just wanted the Wasteland to be a slightly more tolerable place. Of course, as just a single mare, I could only do so much in that regard. Really, all I could do was what I hoped was right, and try to set an example for others to see. Maybe others would follow my lead. Maybe they wouldn’t.

“Nothing,” I said, finally, drawing a startled look from the pink unicorn. A look that very quickly shifted into disgust, “I’m not going to do anything about it. I’m going to go to Seaddle, and speak with Princess Luna about the war with the Steel Rangers.”

“That’s it?” Starlight growled, “all of those ponies are dead, and you’re just going to let them get away with it?! I thought you were supposed to be some kind of hero or something!”

“There isn’t anything I can do to change what happened,” I replied carefully, doing what I could to repress those same desires to avenge the dead that Starlight was feeling. It really was our natural state, wasn’t it? My sad little smile grew slightly wider as I thought back on those Reformed Lancers, “anything I could do would just add to the suffering of the world. How does that help anypony?”

Starlight blinked, taken aback by my response, which so very closely mimicked that of the very mercenaries whose personalities that she had white-washed. The sort of response that was supposed to be that of an ideal Equestrian pony. I wasn’t doing it to be cruel, or because I wanted to throw her own views back in her face. After all, I’d had very similar notions in the past before I’d seen her spell in action.

Maybe I was being too naive. Maybe I was even wrong to think that. I was just a silly little filly, after all. Still, if several centuries of reprisal hadn’t done anything to help the world become a better place, then it was at least worth trying out something new, wasn’t it? If it didn’t change anything, then what did it matter? But, if there was even the chance that it could make even a small difference, then why not give it a shot?

“The ponies of this town aren’t interested in going out of their way to hurt others,” I went on, “they were acting out of fear and anger. I know what that’s like,” I bowed my head, recalling exactly how close I’d come to lashing out at the locals. Recalling some of the lives that I’d taken in the past that were hardest to justify. Like a sleazy mayor whose brains I’d splattered on the asphalt because of things that I’d heard of him doing from somepony else. Not exactly irrefutable proof of his committing a crime worthy of death. But I’d pulled that trigger anyway. I’d perpetuated the Way of the Wasteland, “I won’t punish them for being scared.”

I could tell that Starlight still wanted to argue with me about what should be done to the ponies of Santa Mara, but this was about as far into the debate as I felt like going right now. I still wanted to leave as soon as possible. The mood in the town was tense, and so was I. My conversation with Arginine had helped, but it hadn’t fixed things completely. Every time I thought about that mass grave, I could feel that impulse in my gut to do something to make those responsible pay. It was a toxic feeling, but it was also so seductive.

Lash out. Remove the bad ponies in this town from the world. Hurt those who had hurt the helpless.
That was the kind of pony that I’d been for so long…

While doing all of that would certainly help to quash the grief I was feeling right now, I also knew that it would only lead to further anguish later on.In the past, I’d combated that was drink, and more killing. It’d left me so hollow for so long. A void that I’d sought to fill with even more raider bodies. An insatiable void, it had turned out. I didn’t want to become that again. I wanted to be better than that. Which meant that I had to feel things, even when they weren’t pleasant.

I had to know when enough was enough, and be strong enough to accept it.

“We’re leaving soon,” I finally said, “meet me outside of town in half an hour,” I turned and headed for the door leading out into town.

“Where are you going?” Foxglove asked, sounding concerned.

“I’m going to talk with Quorum,” it was hard to miss the frightened expression on the purple mare’s face. I tried my best to muster a reassuring smile, “don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” I thought for a moment, and then added, “and so will she.”

I stepped outside and looked around. The town seemed quite deserted all of a sudden, not unlike when we’d first arrived. The locals weren’t being held hostage in their homes any longer, of course. They were just weathering the storm that they were afraid might yet come, despite their best hopes. I idly wondered how sure they’d been that I wouldn’t punish them for what they’d done. Not so sure, apparently, that they thought it unnecessary to move in secret, and keep themselves out of my sight in the immediate aftermath.

I’m sure the reports of what I did to the militia ponies who been accosting Pritchel and Medica hadn’t assuaged their concerns any.

Perhaps I might even find myself confronting armed ponies in my attempt to speak with Quorum one last time. I flexed the alloyed covers that shielded my wings to ensure they were firmly secured if I should have need of them. I studied the pock marks and scoring that tarnished the once brilliant metal. Some patches yet retained their mirrored finish though, and I caught my reflection for a brief moment.

There was much that I had in common with the battered Gale Force rig.

My hoof had touched my eyepatch before I’d known that I was even reaching for it. Tendrils of burn scarring spiderwebbed out from beneath the simple leather covering, a mishmash of pink and brown flesh where my coat would no longer grow. Gnarls of dingy ivory fur dotted my face where it grew around old shrapnel wounds.

I was long overdue for a mane trim too, it would appear. French Tips would have a lot to say regarding how much I’d let myself get out of sorts.

The toll exacted by the Wasteland. One of many it levied upon those who frequented its expanse. It was a compelling mirror of what had been inflicted upon my spirit, though. Scarred, haggard, and burned away in places. I could remember the filly that I’d once been, ignorant and naive, as she flitted through the air, dealing out death with twin streams of 10mm rounds to any pony she took a disliking to. Then she’d ply herself with bottles of whiskey until she could sleep soundly enough to make it through the night.

There are no ‘good’ ponies…

Perhaps, but, “maybe that’s not the right way to think about it,” I whispered aloud as I tucked my wings back to my sides and resumed walking, “maybe it’s not about ‘good’ ponies verses ‘bad’ ponies. Maybe it’s about helping others verses just helping ourselves.

“I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I got my raw deal, and I know I’m taking the shortcut to an early grave. I can accept that. I just want everypony else to have it better than I did,” maybe I didn’t know how that was supposed to be accomplished, but one pony couldn’t have all the answers, could they? All I knew was that nopony was going to ‘have it better’ if they were all dead. So, all I needed to worry about right now was stopping Arginine’s stable.

After that, I could let ponies with more brains and experience than a pubescent pegasus filly tackle the broader problems of ‘fixing’ things…

It wasn’t long before I located the mayor’s office for the town. As expected, there was a guard standing outside the door. The earth pony stallion stiffened upon catching sight of me, and I saw him ever so slightly edge his mouth towards the trigger bit connected to the carbine strapped at his side. I came to a stop at what I appraised was a suitably safe distance away and flicked up my wings, “I’m just here to talk,” I hadn’t afixed my more potent weapons before coming here. My only armament was my compact pistol, which the guard might not even be able to see from where he was, and certainly nopony would notice as long as my wings stayed at my side.

The stallion didn’t take his eyes off me as his hind leg kicked out at the door behind him several times. I heard the sound of a metal latch unbolting just before it cracked open. There was a brief exchange that I couldn’t hear, and then the door closed again. I stood waiting patiently for another half a minute. Then the door opened again, and I recognized Quorum’s green form stepping out of the building. A unicorn mare dressed in the town’s militia barding flanked her, a semi-automatic shotgun floating at the ready.

A smile that was equal parts sad and amused tugged at my lip as I contemplated the notion that such a display of force had been deemed necessary for somepony coming out to speak with a little teenaged filly. Was I fifteen or sixteen by now? I was pretty sure I wasn’t seventeen yet…

Quorum approached to within about ten yards before stopping, “is there something I can do for you, Wonderbolt?”

Her tone suggested that she was expecting me to make demands. Indeed, she might even have been of a notion that I wanted to arrest her and bring her to Seaddle for what she’d done tonight. If that was the case, than she was very much aware of my age, and had made some understandable assumptions about my presumed youthful naivety. Not to say that I wasn’t naive in some―or even many―areas.

The nature of Wasteland justice wasn’t one of them though. I wasn’t here to ‘take her in’. This was about me trying to do what I could to make the Wasteland a better place.

By defying its nature, and encouraging others to do the same, “did they protest?”

The mayor and her guard exchanged a brief look, confused, “pardon?”

“The Lancers,” I said, working hard to keep my tone even as the mere mention of their group evoked a resurgence of nightmarish images, “did they protest when you lined them up to be shot? Did they argue? Fight back?” the silence that greeted me confirmed what I had suspected. I sighed and bowed my head, trying to hide the fresh tears welling up behind my eye, “that’s not even the first time I’ve seen something like that, you know,” now I saw the rows of placid faces that had been laid outside their stable with dispassionate order.

“That’s what the Wasteland is, when you get right down to it. Most ponies think is the barren valleys and roaming monsters and deadly robots. But it’s not. The Wasteland―the real Wasteland―is right outside this town, covered up in that ditch: it's how easily we can bring ourselves to shoot ponies in the back who aren’t even trying to stop us from doing it.

“Because we’re scared. Because we were hurt. Because we’re angry, and we need some way to show it.”

I raised my head back up and looked to the mayor, then towards her guardian, “the Wasteland is bringing an armed guard to talk with a filly you’ve heard only goes after bandits and raiders,” the green earth pony now shifted uncomfortably, “is that how you see yourself now; as the kind of pony the Wonderbolt would hurt?

“Is that who you wanted to become?”

Quorum swallowed, but still said nothing. I did notice that the unicorn behind her had looked away though, and lowered the weapon floating beside her. It wasn’t much. Maybe it wouldn’t even matter in the future, “if you really did find it so easy to slaughter helpless ponies like that, maybe it won’t be long before you do become that kind of pony. Don’t let me find out that’s become the case.

"Goodbye, Quorum. If we're all very lucky, we'll never see each other again."

I turned around and started walking away.

“Wonderbolt!” I paused and looked back over my shoulder towards the mayor, “for what it’s worth: I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

That sad smile was back on my face again, “the Wasteland is believing that it did have to be this way.”

I flipped out my wings and took to the sky, heading out of town to meet my friends. As I did so, I reached to my fetlock and keyed up the frequency that Homily had given me, “hey, Homily, you there? I’ve got an update for you…”

Foot Note: Level Up!
Perk Added: Speaker: When you talk, ponies listen. Increased chance of persuading others.
Speech Skill at 50

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