Stardate: June 4th, 2077

Journal of the Honourable Griffon, Fade (Me)

Our illustrious commander has asked me the ever paramount question of “Why.” Or, more accurately, she asked it some time ago, and found my initial explanation lacking. I can’t imagine how — it was succinct, to the point, and informed her of some realities of this world that I’m not entirely sure occurred to her.

But I digress. She asked me to write out what happened on our little frozen-valley soiree, and here we are.

It was all quite the situation they had stumbled upon. I say “they,” because I had been sitting on the side of the road twirling my newly recovered watch while they had gone on ahead and found the rabble. They — the pegasi, I mean. The two lovebirds, as it were — had just returned. Things were springing into action, and my presence was required.

“Trouble. Circle up, I’ve got a plan,” Snap Roll said without preamble. She and Tailwind had just emerged from the underbrush, the two of them shaking off some snow that had gotten lodged in their barding. Miserable as it seemed, I guessed they must have crawled at least some of the way. How that worked for someone with hooves was beyond me, but their dedication to not being discovered and presumably killed did them credit.

“I take it it isn’t just two guys,” Bernard replied, voicing the somewhat-obvious as he headed towards what was beginning to become a sort of meeting area.

Glancing up from the softly ticking mechanisms of the watch I’d field stripped to search for tracking devices (of which there were none), I let out a noncommittal grunt and reassembled the device before meandering over to the assembling group on the trail. “Did you find trouble, or make it?” I asked, rolling a crick out of my neck and eyeing the pegasi curiously, “I’ve found there’s a very distinct difference between the two, and often their severity.”

With one last glance towards what I imagined were the fateful “Red Bars” that started this whole thing, Crafter turned to follow in my wake. When he spoke, he echoed my own thoughts, saying “He brings up a good point.”

It had been a good point, hadn’t it? Still, I began to wonder if the horn atop his head gave him mind-reading capabilities, before dismissing the thought. Either it didn’t, or it did and he made very poor use of the knowledge. Regardless, it wasn’t something to be worried about.

As for Snap’s plan, well, I’d soon find out what it would entail. It would likely prove interesting to see what proper training by a flight worthy species would look like when not ambushed, attacked by a wolf, or bleeding copiously. Hopefully, it would be far more harm doing, than receiving.

With a grin that showed her teeth, Snap replied to me, “We most certainly found it, Fade.” As she spoke, she laid out what seemed to be a pencil drawing — on a torn-out page from the very notebook I’ve been writing this in. Beside it, she unfolded the hardcopy map she’d acquired back in Neighson. For the time being, I kept quiet about the similar-but-more-detailed one buried in my bag. No need to bring it up, not when I hadn’t had a chance to properly go over it myself.

Dismissing the thought, my attention was drawn to her beginning to pile up a series of rocks, sticks, and piles of snow. It took me a moment, but she was mapping out a very physical representation of what we were facing. In my mind’s eye, the strange assortment of sticks, stones and lines began to make a physical connection.

The line she drew in the snow became the natural progression of the trail we were following, continuing out to the West of where we were. Rocks formed enemy positions, with one distinctly being the closest to our location, with others laid out further to the West. To the South, it seemed like a frozen river came almost all the way up to the road itself, before winding back down the way it had come. Assuming the crossed sticks she placed were hostiles, I got the sense that the majority of their positioning up ahead was watching back towards the Red side of things. Curious. I had to wonder if ponies leaving their territory was that much of an issue.

I slipped the watch back into my jacket before beginning to study the map Miss Snap Roll had laid out before us. It wasn’t an ideal situation, shooting never is, but we had certain advantages (one of which was me) that would help level the playing field. Killing field... snowy road… semantics. As I committed positions and features to memory, Snap began to outline the aforementioned plan.

“We’ve got a full Red Eye ambush set up a couple hundred meters down the road,” She was saying, “They’ve got a griffon-and-pony sniper nest set up here,” she gestured with a hoof towards a spot about four hundred meters away from the ambush. Ahh, so that’s why she’d put a rock there. I supposed it made sense. “They managed to get the drop on a pair of Rangers, killing one and knocking out the armour on the second.” She drew circles in the snow as she outlined the Ranger casualties. “When the other half of their patrol went to investigate, the two sides had quite the firefight, with the Rangers eventually going down. I couldn’t tell how many ponies the Reds used to have, but I’m damn sure they’ve got a lot fewer now.”

I felt a pang of sympathy, but not a whole lot more — Cheesequake had probably known them, more likely than not. For my part, I was more interested in how exactly the good Miss Snap Roll had determined that one still lived. It struck me as odd, to see that from the “Reds,” as she called them. In fact, on that note, she returned to the disabled Ranger. I leaned closer as she jabbed her pointer-stick at the circle North of the road, but on the far side of the ambush site from where we rested.

In point of fact, if one were to walk along the road towards us, I imagined the downed Ranger would be seen before the viewer cottoned on to the realities of the ambush itself.

Perhaps that was the goal?

“Now,” Snap’s voice ripped me out of my thoughts, “This one seems to still be alive. Not sure if they cannot or will not open up her armour to get at the poor mare, but it presents a unique opportunity that they haven’t.” I had questions, such as how she was able to tell that the armoured equine was female — I had a hard enough time when they were standing before me — but it occurred to me that such a question would be decidedly less than helpful. Ultimately, I was willing to concede that she was more of an expert on identifying members of her own species.

It occurred to me that Snap hadn’t stopped talking, and I hastily tried to pretend like I’d been following along. “...Using the spark battery Bernard’s carrying, Tailwind can reset the spell matrix of her armour, and I’m quite sure she’ll be pissed as all hell when she can move again.” Drawing another line on the opposite side of the road, she continued as a vicious smile gave a pleasant curl to her lips. “Fade, I want you to create a distraction.”

Well, she had me. If anything, I can be outstandingly distracting one way or another, if I do say so myself; and I do — say so, that is. Unless someone says it for me, which she did.

“I want you to find a defensible spot, lay out some landmines and keep them focused anywhere other than the North side of the road. Once the rest of us are in position, I want you to hit them and fade away if you can, or hunker down in cover, if you can’t. Just make sure to keep up harassing fire to keep them looking your way.” Her suggestion seemed reasonable enough, and potentially well within my capabilities. Continuing, she added, “I don’t care if you hit anything at all, I just need their eyes very much pointed away from the road. Anything else is a bonus. The sniper nest will get taken out ASAP, so all you should have to deal with is ponies with battlesaddles and levitated weapons. I saw mostly rifles, with a couple light machine guns backing them up. There were indications of explosives on the Ranger bodies, but I couldn’t see ‘em. Keep an eye out.” Well, she certainly didn’t have to remind me about that one, but I supposed she was just being thorough.

“Once they’re properly distracted, Tailwind’s going to start making for the Ranger,” She continued the plan, “That’s where Crafter and Bernard come in. While Fade’s drawing their attention, I need you to be giving him support. Soon as he starts to engage, he’s going to take a lot of fire. You’re going to have to provide fire support for him, and take out any hostiles in Tailwind’s way.”

Bernard nodded his assent, “So, keep their heads down and try to keep Fade’s intact. Fair enough, I suppose.” He would suppose. Because I’m worth it. That said, the whole mutually-not-wanting-me-to-die thing was really starting to grow on me.

Then Crafter spoke up, demonstrating his ignorance, but also highlighting a potential hitch in the plan. “What about the… Ayy-emm, um, thing? It sounds bad.” I guess that evens up his own personal score, after a fashion. For this round, at least.

Snap sighed, “They’re up pretty high on a cliff face. Tailwind and Fade are needed exactly where they are, so that leaves me.” She produced her remaining grenades, running them through her hooves before stowing them again. “I’ve still got some explosives, and if I wait til they’re distracted by the firefight, and… well… trying to kill you guys, it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Clearing my throat after sitting silent through the conversation, I tossed a nod towards the map and commented, “A distraction I can give you, but I’ll need some time first.” Rising to my feet, I began to sort through my possessions, removing all non-essentials to the upcoming engagement and stuffing them into a spare bag. “About twenty minutes, I’d say, before the shooting starts.” To see if any unfortunate piece of kit would have the audacity to give me away at the worst possible time, I jumped up and down a few times, finding that there were a few items which weren’t quite properly stowed. The watch, in particular, needed to be set deeper into a pocket.

Having squared myself away, I shifted what was left of my gear to fit more comfortably before pointing to the bag and saying, “Need someone to watch after that, though. Need to be light for this.” Thankfully, Wrenchy obliged, magically hoisting the bag onto his own shoulders. A decent pony, him. Better than most. I found myself hoping he didn’t die.

“For the lead up,” Snap was saying in conclusion, “Tailwind, Bernard and Crafter will stick together and find a spot to engage from before Tailwind moves up. I can communicate to her through our TFDs.

“Fade, I can give you a radio,” she continued, drawing my full attention. “I’ve got it tuned to a frequency only we’ll be using, all you have to do is push this button.” She indicated with a hoof towards the only noticeable ‘button’ on the thing, which bore a near-identical relation to the device resting in one of her own barding pockets. “It incorporates cloud tech, but I do believe griffons can use it. Unless you need to send detail, one click of the radio if you encounter an issue, two clicks for ‘set.’ I’ll send two in response as the signal to start engaging, after consulting with Tailwind’s team. From there, we’ll all respond to your distraction.”

I accepted the radio as it was given, in turn giving the device’s one notable button an exploratory press, which resulted in the aforementioned “click,” and stowed it in easy reach, clipped in the crook of my shoulder — opposite my shooting side, mind you. I did what I could to memorize her arbitrary-seeming signal code, ultimately deciding that I could improvise if I had to, and leaving it at that.

Then, she passed me one of the more precious things we were carrying with us. Healing potions were valuable, but I didn’t notice any sort of hesitation as she passed it to me, saying “Take this… just in case.” There was a look of… I don’t know. Kindness, maybe? That sounds like a suitably equine trait for it. A look of kindness on her features as she did.

Taking the potion with no small amount of trepidation, I appreciated the thought behind it; I was quite partial to not being dead, and it was good to know it was a mutual sentiment. I tucked the bottle into the inside of my barding and gave a grim nod. “Thanks. If all goes as hoped I won’t need it, but nonetheless.” After casting one last cursory glance at the map, I gave a final check of my gear.

Satisfied with my preparations, I looked over the group, dipped my head in a short bow, and offered in parting, “I’ll be off then. If you hear shooting before the clicks, please come help me.” That said, I headed off down the road, veering over the side into the snowy bank after a short distance. As I went, I mulled over the plan I had formed and hoped that the information the pegasi had provided was still accurate.

Beginning to cut my own trail, I transitioned to walking on all fours, keeping low. I made reasonably quick progress, though the concept is relative, considering that as soon as I left the trail I began to pad through completely unpacked snow — only my quadruped stance kept me from sinking overly deep. For the time being, I had the intermittent woodlands for cover, though the trees were hardly good for all that much. If Snap’s observations were good, I’d be running out of cover just before I reached the first hostile position, which should be enough to let me observe them without committing to an engagement. Naturally, we’d have to see about that.

I felt the elation of being a hunter once again, moving on unsuspecting prey. It felt right, in a sense, almost natural. I’ll have to thank Snap, if I remember by the time I’m done with this: I rather enjoyed the feeling.

Such thoughts aside, I moved forwards in search of my quarry. A distraction was the goal — but surprise, I had always found, could only be lost once. It was best to make the most of it. By the time I caught the first indications of life, maybe fifteen minutes had passed. Soft voices, carried by the slight breeze headed my way, just as expected. Moving so I could get a look at them, I caught sight of a pair of equines maybe thirty or so meters away, right where Snap’s sticks-and-rocks map had indicated.

One of them sported a horn and had a light machine gun resting on its bipod next to her. As far as ponies go, they were almost camouflaged; the unicorn’s green coat stood out a little, but the slate-like blue and grey in her mane came reasonably close to blending in with the rock. Her companion was one of Bernard’s lot, carrying, of all things, a double barreled shotgun. His brown-and-grey colours seemed to match his heritage, looking very much like, well… dirt. I had to wonder if that was something Red Eye gave thought to, when deciding jobs for his underlings — it apparently wasn’t a concern to the Enclave, if our good Miss Roll made it into reconnaissance.

But I digress.

The rock they were nestled behind was hiding them well enough from the road, but they were wide open from my perspective. They must have been trying to glean a bit of cover from the bite of the wind as they waited for something to happen.

Between them and myself, the sparse treeline I’d been traversing gave way to more open steppe, dotted with rocky outcroppings — any number of which could have sheltered enemies, though common sense bid me to have faith in Snap’s number estimates, at least. The thought that they couldn’t overwhelm me with raw bodies was at least somewhat encouraging.

As I scanned the ground past my immediate targets, I caught sight of one particular set of rocks, with a few petty trees forming something of a small copse. The road ran right past it, and two of the dead Rangers were visible nearby. I was quite sure that the spot was occupied, even though I couldn’t actually see any of them. Once things started up in earnest, that was going to be one of the more difficult positions to dislodge, but doing so wasn’t actually my job.

Crouching low, I spent half a minute simply watching the pair of ponies, trying to ascertain their frame of mind and alertness. I had given myself a reasonable window of time, and the others were likely close to, if not already in their positions. Soon, I came to the conclusion that these ponies were more interested in talking and not freezing than being prepared for an ambush.

Gauging the distance, I knew it would be possible to cover in a run, but opted to crawl even closer, pushing my luck just a tad. I drew both my mountaineering hammer and my combat knife as I stopped about twenty meters or so from the duo, remaining still for a few moments to make sure my approach had gone undetected.

Thankfully, despite the crunching I’d made crawling through the snow, the wind seemed to be in my favour — no reaction was forthcoming. Deciding to act, I waited for a decent gust of wind to add additional noise cover before launching myself from hiding, a flap of wings adding velocity.

Now that I think about it, it was probably a rather intimidating sight. A griffon appearing out of nowhere, sprinting forwards with snow cascading off his feathered features, murder in his eyes. At least, I think so.

As I sprinted towards them, I put the natural motions of my arms to use. Putting my weight behind each throw, I whipped each of my drawn weapons in turn — the hammer at the unicorn, and the knife at the earth pony.

Frustratingly, but to her merit, the unicorn acted almost immediately, catching my sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. She had the reflexes to mostly duck out of the way, suffering merely a graze from the hammer. Fortunately, she was still forced to drop the LMG as her magical concentration snapped. Her companion, however, wasn’t so prepared. The knife dug deep into his shoulder, causing him to fall against the rock and cry out in pain.

Instead of trying to reacquire her cumbersome weapon, the unicorn instead drew a pistol, formerly concealed by her wrappings, snap-firing a pair of shots in my direction as she dove to the side.

My course was set, momentum demanding that I continue the charge at the stationary target. As lamentable as the unicorn’s dodge was, it allowed me to focus on her partner. Reaching him, my own superior bulk and the speed of my charge slammed his head into the rock he’d been using for cover from the wind. A simile to the breaking of eggs comes to mind, but I had bigger worries at the time than fussing about the nature of the sticky mess that defiled my talons.

Wrapping my right arm around the corpse’s neck, I shifted my weight to pull him off the rocks and in front of myself. A timely move, as two more pistol rounds tore into the body.

Flicking my eyes to the side, I tracked the pistol wielding mare. I wanted to keep her on the move despite the distance, and used my free hand to wrench the knife from the deceased buck’s shoulder and sent it flying once again, before following up on the rough throw with another charge. I dragged my portable cover with me as I did.

The knife missed, hardly warranting a glance from her. What she did, however, was light her horn in the distinctive overglow of magic. I both saw and felt a wave of force strike the ground between us, showering me in a cloud of snow and dirt.

She was more crafty than I’d expected. I paused my charge, unfurling my wings and bracing behind the buck’s corpse. With three powerful flaps, I kicked up enough of an eddy to blow the aerial debris away and clear my vision to some degree.

My gust of wind was successful enough — I could see the mare hoofing it towards the copse of trees I’d figured would be a hard point of resistance. Damn. I saw another unicorn head pop up, seemingly identical in colouration to the one running towards her. Same hair and everything: maybe Red Eye really did pick them for the camouflage.

In a crass voice, I heard the flighty one call out to her companions, “Got a griffon on my ass Flow, fuck ‘im up!”

She was running for help. Cute. It didn’t make a ton of difference to me; the objective was the same but the game plan was a little different. I had to work fast, because I didn’t have long. In point of fact, I found it odd enough I hadn’t been shot at already. Perhaps it was the oddity of my being a griffon, instead of another canned pony? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to question that it bought me a few extra seconds of confusion.

Shifting back, I dragged the buck with me and snagged the mare’s abandoned LMG before hunkering down behind their bit of rocky cover. It wasn’t much, but it gave me the time I needed to search the corpse, finding a pistol concealed in his barding. Stowing it, I dumped the body and crawled for his shotgun, lying not far away. Now more heavily armed, I slunk back to the rock and prepped a mine, setting the trigger to proximity but not yet arming it. Setting the explosive and shotgun aside, I reached for the radio and improvised a signal to start: one click, followed by a short pause, then two.

I figured Snap would catch on pretty quick.

That done, I hoisted the LMG onto the flat top of the rock and pulled the trigger, rising behind it a second later to direct the fire towards the stand of trees the mare had run to. The weapon was large — clunky. Not what I was used to, but it certainly had more capacity to put violence downrange than my rifle. That, and I wasn’t against being overzealous with someone else’s ammo.

My rounds were wild, but they forced the ponies across from me to keep their heads down for a moment, enough for me to rise behind the gun and actually look at what I was aiming at. Off to my left, there was a buck that must’ve been trying to outflank me. I adjusted the stream of rounds to send him diving back towards the riverbed for cover.

My victory was short lived, as I was forced back by fire from multiple different positions.

It was becoming quite clear that my position was tenuous at best. Fishing around for another mine, I set it for proximity as well before planting it at the base of a pathetic little tree on the North end of the rock. That flank covered, I crawled back, and began playing a deadly game of “pop up.” I’d shoot at them, they’d shoot at me. My head was kept down more than I’d like, on the whole.

Rudely interrupting our delightful game of “bullet tag,” I heard an explosion from the road side of my rock, accompanied by an equine scream of pain. It could only have been my mine, so I swung my fire in that direction. The burst of bullets chased away a mobile, if injured foe. His friend had lost both forelegs in the blast, and was busy screaming and doing his best to bleed out sooner rather than later.

I figured that was one down and however many to go. Fire still poured in from overhead as I kept low and adjusted my targeting priorities. Knowing there was still a pony somewhere down by the riverbed, I scuttled back and buried the other mine just around the South edge of the rock. That done, I moved back to my previous position, checking my firing lines to either side. Satisfied that I could easily hit anything that decided to pop out around either side of my particular outcropping, I pressed myself as close as I could to the base of the rock and resumed waiting.

I didn’t want to press my luck by sticking to the same place for too long, but I couldn’t move until I removed at least one more threat.

Just then, I heard the distinct sound of hooves landing on the rock above me, followed by a cackling laugh. I honestly hadn’t expected any of them to be crazy enough to run straight up the rock, blocking off their own covering fire as they did. I bit down on my surprise, diving forwards and trying to bring my own weapon to bear, despite knowing it wouldn’t be fast enough — not if one of them was already above me.

Casting something of a shadow down upon me was what appeared to be the nearly-identical version of the pony I’d sent running at the start of all this. She had a light machine gun of her own leveled at my head, suspended in her magic.

Right as I thought I was about to die to some psychotic pony, there was loud crack and an accompanying gush of blood from her side. The mare’s eyes went into shock, pupils tightening to points as her oh-so-clever plan backfired quite spectacularly. Beginning to deal with her own internal situations, she let off an unconscious burst of bullets as her magic dissipated. A trio of rounds slashed through my right thigh, as the gun tumbled from her grip and fell neatly into my lap.

I don’t expect anyone would begrudge me the pained cry that was torn from my throat, but I clamped down on it. Time for that later. Besides the pain, it rapidly occurred to me that the new holes in my leg were going to put a damper on things. Namely, running.

With my beak clenched tight against the pain, I forced myself back to my feet, shouldering the machine gun and watching the sides of my rock. There would be some idiot trying to take advantage of the unicorn’s failed assault, I just knew it. It was just the sort of distraction I would have taken advantage of, in their position. I could take care of my injuries later.

Intuition proved to be correct. The trollop that had escaped my earlier mine was edging around his rock once again, but was violently dissuaded by the final few rounds in my LMG. He dipped back behind the rock and I dropped the gun in the snow, digging out another landmine instead. I slapped the proximity trigger and whipped it towards him, hoping it would land somewhere useful.

The throw landed almost perfectly, sending the shrieking earth pony running to join his comrades, abandoning his thoughts of assaulting my position. Unfortunately for him, Bernard must have still been watching. He caught a round in his side, staggering him — then another punched into his center of mass, sending him to the ground. He wasn’t dead, but there was enough blood and screaming to convince me he wasn’t going to be a threat, at the very least.

Taking the minor victory to heart, I allowed myself a predatory grin, before quickly settling back to a mix of pain and concentration. Pulling myself up against the rock, I set the newly-acquired LMG to face the riverbank. Just in case. That done, I pulled open my barding to retrieve the healing potion Snap had given me earlier. Turning my attention to the holes in my leg, I popped the top of the bottle and proceeded to pour a solid dollop onto the trio of bleeding punctures and drank the rest. I figured they’d only hit meat, so it should heal just fine. I soon felt a sensation that I suppose I can legitimately describe as “magical” work its way through my limb, healing and rebuilding tissue as it went. The leg would be tender for another couple days, but in the current situation it was better than a limiting injury. As the tingling faded, it seemed that the edges hadn’t quite sealed together. Irritating, but not a whole lot I could do about it at this stage.

At least I could run on it, if I had to.

That operation completed, I shouldered the stolen weapon and eyed the frozen river. Things had been surprisingly quiet, though I suppose the Northern flank’s failure might have deterred them. With that side cleared of would-be assailants — or at least those that were moving up on me — any further attacks on my personnage would have to come from the South — the river side. I edged around, beak-first, trying to get a clearer view around my rocky protector.

My poking around was immediately met with a spray of bullets, forcing me back. In my brief glimpse across the nearby body of frozen water, I managed to spot another two ponies sprinting across almost parallel to my own cover. They’d soon have a clear shot where I was crouched, and I couldn’t return fire without them being able to shoot first. They couldn’t have been more than thirty meters away, and they both started firing.

Things were rapidly getting out of hand and into me. My thigh, in this case, but I’d rather keep the rest of me from getting more involved. The limiting factor was not knowing the disposition of anything beyond the rock at my side. While it was a stalwart companion, it did leave a little to be desired in the ways of sitreps. All in all I was fairly sure that standing up would have been a bad idea. Bursts of rounds hit the rock I sheltered behind, keeping my head firmly down and peppering me with rock dust. I couldn’t move for fear of exposure, but while I might have been somewhat exposed to the gunners across the river, they were in turn exposed to me. There was a rather lot of exposure on all accounts and I was by no means a voyeur, so I sought to limit my own. It’s not like I could expect decency from most ponies, let alone ones employed by Red Eye. At any rate, I’d have to return fire before I could even hope to redeploy myself somewhere more advantageous.

I had to wait for my moment. A reload, a stoppage, or-

Smaller caliber rounds started sparking off the area surrounding my attackers. Though woefully inaccurate, they proved adequately distracting, drawing both ponies’ attention further down the frozen creekbed. It was a most welcome sight. One of the pair popped up to let a burst of rounds off. It was short lived, as a better aimed reply caught him in the leg, forcing him to topple to the snow.

Pausing to examine this new development, I found that it was neither a spook nor some other apparition, but in fact Bernard and Wrenchy. It was nice of them to show up, and I mean that most sincerely. They were currently keeping me from further harm and, in the process, doing harm to others whom I was most displeased with. At this point I caught myself nodding in approval and remembering that I was still very much involved with this conflict, and should probably return the aid my comrades lent me. Neither of the hostiles were at the sort of distance one typically needs to aim at, so I gripped my weapon from above to give me a modicum of recoil control as I rose out of cover, firing before I’d even consciously registered a target.

The more mobile of the two had been in the middle of a quick reload when I caught him with a sustained burst that scythed up through his midsection, cutting him nearly in half. Bleeding out was typically a slow process, but he managed to experience it in under a couple seconds. Probably by the time he hit the ground for that matter, what was left of him anyways.

I’d finished off the belt with that burst, and I dropped back in cover. My companions should have an easy enough time with the one remaining, I figured. Dropping the LMG beside its twin, I took a moment to breathe, to finally have a chance to listen to what was going on.

From off towards the base of fire I’d traded bullets with earlier, there was a sound not entirely unlike the ripping of paper — if by “ripping” one could refer to hundreds of bullets, and by “paper” one could refer to a living being. At any rate, a chain gun seemed to be in the process of turning someone into fine little chunks. Or so it sounded. For all I knew, it was firing into the air... typically, however, people firing that sort of weapon have something to aim it at. Bullets aren’t cheap, after all.

Unless they’re someone else’s, naturally.

Anyways, it seemed a safe assumption that Miss Tailwind had succeeded, and we were benefitting from the support of one of the illustriously armoured equines.

What I didn’t expect was the abrupt reappearance of the green coated nuisance I’d originally chased out of the position I'd grown to know so well. She must have vaulted the rock, sprinting away from the source of lead-based violence. She landed on her haunches beside me, as a spray of bullets impacted the far side of my beloved rock. Staring at me blankly for a breath, she managed to comment, “Oh, hey big guy.”

“Back again are we?” I asked dryly, locking gazes with the unicorn. “You ponies just can’t seem to get enough of me.” As I spoke, I lashed out with a taloned hand towards her head. There wasn’t any particular sort of malice to it, but it was reactionary as much as anything. With the amount of ordnance I had scattered around, there was no way I was letting her use magic near me.

She gave me a half smile as she tried to dodge away, “Well you do have a wonderful complexion, bu-” Her quip was cut tragically short as I caught a talon-full of mane, and her head became intimately familiar with my geological friend. She made an “Ack!” noise as I rapped her skull against the rock, but it lacked the sort of force that had done her compatriot in the way it had — the charge certainly added to that one, admittedly. After another two smacks, she went limp in my arms. Suddenly, I had one unconscious (and possibly concussed) unicorn in my possession. Skies help me, if I only knew what I should do with it.

With my unexpected guest out for the foreseeable future, I let out a breath and took a second to clear my head. Aside from my own heart in my ears, I noticed that the shooting had died off drastically since her appearance. In fact, unless my ears were ringing worse than I thought, it seemed to have died off altogether. That was good. Or really bad, but I preferred the implications of my companions surviving in the former. Feeling somewhat assured of my safety, I set about confiscating the mare’s pistol and armour, shredding the cloth with my talons before using it to bind her legs. Having goose tied my captive, I sat up and leaned back against the boulder, trying to determine my next course of action. Realizing a few mines were still armed, I fished about in my barding and thumbed the remote, rendering them inert. I’d sort those out later, if I remembered where they’d went. It would be rather difficult to tell in the snow.

Seeming to have finished the immediate “To Do” list, I turned my attention back to the bound unicorn and propped her upright beside me, draping an arm around her to make sure she stayed put. Toying with her pistol in my free hand, I spoke conversationally. “I do apologize for the headache you’ll have when you wake up, but I couldn’t have you using this on me. Would ruin my complexion which you were so enamoured with.” Pausing, I looked the mare over then leaned in and added, “Though I’m way out of your league sweetheart. I’m sure you’d understand if you were awake.” As I eyed her, I noticed she had some sort of water-themed cutiemark. Something like a pair of waves, feeding into each other in an endless loop. It made my head spin, and I much preferred to look elsewhere.

Having a few moments relatively alone I started to calm down and, as a side effect, began to hurt. All over. An ache brewing just behind my eyes, I groggily looked down at my right arm which seemed to be leaking blood from a number of slightly-closer-than-near misses. Apparently my cover hadn’t been quite as good as I thought, and this was the result. Only just coming to terms with my newfound injuries, A grey blur dashed around the side of the boulder, materializing into a Steel Ranger when it stopped moving. Flicking my eyes from my arm to the spinning chaingun at her side, I largely failed to process what was happening and simply let out a pained sigh.

“Always you damned ponies…”

She quirked her head, seeming to evaluate me for a moment behind that opaque visor of hers (at the time, I was still going off of Snap’s deduction of her gender, not that it mattered overly much. I couldn’t tell a damn thing with them). Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, she walked over and put an armoured hoof around the ropes binding the unicorn. “I’ll be taking this,” She said matter-of-factly, her voice slightly distorted by the fact that it was coming from a speaker.

I noted that Snap had in fact been right, despite the armour. I also noted that the mare before me was a bitch.

I wasn’t at all sure who she was (or thought she was, for that matter) but she was well on the way to writing herself into my bad books with that remark. They were infinitely less nice than my good books, though I suppose it’s all relative as neither of them were actually “books,” unless you count this retelling as such. But alas, such conundrums are for another time.

Wanting to put the kibosh on Miss Grabby-Hooves as quickly as possible, I tugged my captive (audience) towards myself and draped my arm further across her withers. I let a talon rest on the bindings, should I need to cut them. Making a show of adjusting my sitting position, I put on the most irritated look I could manage — which didn’t take a whole lot of effort, given how poorly the last half-hour had gone for me — and I gave my head a shake. “Nie, I don’t believe you will. Sleepyhead and I have some unfinished business to attend to and I very much doubt she will be in any condition to travel afterwards.” Idly waving my free hand, I dismissively added, “Wasn’t aware the Rangers were collecting Ponies now as well, but I’m sure there’s plenty of injured ones out there you can have that I don’t have a grudge with.”

She seemed to consider that for a moment, her body language relaxing slightly as she quirked her head to the side. “What do you want with her?” She asked in an even but curious tone.

My headache was bad enough before all of this, and now I was having to explain things to a Ranger that we had just saved. Well, Tailwind saved her but I- we provided a distraction. Turning my attention to the unconscious but mostly alive mare tied up next to me I let out a huff. “The better question is what I don’t want to do to her,” I began, giving the unicorn a shake for emphasis, “This one not only didn’t cooperate with me in the first place, but got all of her friends involved as well. That lead to a lot of shooting and unpleasantness which resulted in my injuries. Then she shows up again and has the gall to be coy. Now, I’ve got a headache from the whole thing so there’s a list I’ve got to narrow down. Regardless, it ends with ‘lethal.’” Taking a breath after my slight tirade, I looked back up and jabbed a talon at the Ranger, “What is she to you? You related or something?”

She (finally) opted to back away, replying with a light chuckle, “Looks like we’re on the same page.” Turning to leave, she tossed a final epithet over her shoulder just as she was rounding the corner. “Seems she’s in good… talons.”

I’d been almost ready for another fight, but was pleasantly surprised when the Ranger left jovially. Apparently the promise of violence against a common enemy can bridge all kinds of gaps. Left alone with my “prize” I was left somewhat out of sorts until the overall pain came back again. Heaving out a displeased grunt, I leaned back again, taking a moment to draft and redraft my plans for the immediate future and allow the ache in my head to hopefully diminish.

Not long after, there was a feminine scream of pain. I couldn’t tell from where I drew the knowledge from, but part of me assumed it was the sound a pony would make having a dislocated limb set. An oddly specific intuition, but I was willing to accept it for what it was. At any rate, the noise prompted Wrenchy to rush past my position, towards where the after-action… activities seemed to be occurring. He seemed alright, as did Bernard, who trotted along at a more measured pace behind him.

By my count that put us pretty far into the “winning” category for this particular firefight.

I let my guard slip a bit. Things seemed to be winding down, and I very much desired to wind down with them. Unfortunately, only minute or so passed before I was interrupted once again, though… less rudely this time. I heard the beat of wings before their owner appeared, and figured there were only two ponies they could possibly belong to. From the opposite side of the lovely geological formation I was beginning to think about naming flew none other than Snap Roll, the architect of this whole mess.

Well, I suppose that’s being slightly unkind. It did work out, after all.

She flew in, angling down once she caught sight of me. Flaring for a landing, she seemed to be favouring her front right hoof — judging by the bloody fabric surrounding a hole in her barding, I can’t say I blamed her. Seemed to have caught the receiving end of something nasty, but I supposed it could have been worse. She seemed alright, and the wound had clearly been treated, recently..

She’d hardly even said “Hello,” before she was running her hooves all over. Poking, prodding, arms, legs, body, neck, wings. She checked her hooves after each segment, staying away from the obvious injuries to avoid aggravating them. It didn’t hurt, but I had to clamp down on the instinct to recoil from one of them touching me, no matter the intent.

“Nice work, Fade.” She piped up, offering a much desired distraction from the sudden molestation of my personnage. “Impromptu distraction, but it definitely did the trick. You hit anywhere I’m not seeing?”

Quickly finishing up with her pat-down, she moved on to unwrapping some magical bandage and covering the superficial cuts on my arm. I appreciated the fact that she was treating my wounds, but at the same time I wasn’t really up for being touched. Knowing it was best to not snap on the pony trying to help me, I shoved that complaint down and shifted some so my mostly-healed thigh was visible. “Didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped. Bastards were more alert than I thought,” I responded before nodding down at my leg. “Other than those nicks, I got hit in the leg. Seemed to be through-and-through, so I splashed some of a potion on it to be mobile.” Gazing across the river, I could just make out a red splotch hidden behind the cluster of rocks and commented, “New arrivals up there were set on putting more holes in me so I did what I could. Not sure if it was my best, but I wasn’t going to let some RE trollops get the better of me.” I allowed a devious grin to creep across my beak, leaning towards Snap as I added, “Got one of them too. Turned the fucker to mince; could probably spread some of him on toast.”

The look on her face was priceless, to say the least. It seemed to be mostly centered on “horrified,” but she kept herself busy dressing my injuries instead of replying. Probably for the best, but as far as I was concerned, I’d evened things up in response to her touching me in the first place, and that was a victory in my book.

Soon, she’d finished, and stepped back. She gave me one last look that I couldn’t quite fathom, something in her eyes I couldn’t really place. I’d almost have said “regret,” but I hadn’t the context for something like that. Without a word, she gave a hop, a flap of wings, and was already back into taking care of the rest of the wonderful mess I’d participated in making, starting with checking the mare on top of my rock for signs of life. Confirming my suspicions, I heard her report to Miss Tailwind, whom I assumed was on the other side, “She’s dead, Tail. Let’s move on, check the others.” There was a flapping of wings, and once again I was alone.

I used the precious time alone to clear my aching head. The mare next to me was largely unresponsive and entirely uninteresting. When they’re unconscious they’re a bore, and when they’re awake they’re a nuisance. Ponies; can’t live comfortably with the creatures.

Some time must have passed as I dwelt solely in my own thoughts. Well into my third examination of the patterns in the scrub grass that just barely poked through the trampled snow before me, what sounded like an argument rose somewhere behind me. The raised voices echoed in my head and rattled the dissipating unrest back into a furor which caused me to cringe. Things were just turning around, and now they seemed entirely set to slide back the other way. I’d had just about enough of that at the moment. So, pushing myself to my feet and brushing off some errant snow, I grabbed my bound associate and set off towards the riverbank, away from the brewing trouble. Upon reaching the riverbed a shot rang out, causing me to pause and look back, but after a moment of consideration I continued on my path, prize dragging through the snow beside me. I was sure they could sort out whatever… differences, were being had by the time I returned.

The sounds of disagreement fading behind me, I continued to weave through trees until the only sounds I could hear were the wind and my own footsteps. Coming to a small clearing atop a rise, I surveyed the area for unfriendly locals and, finding none, occupied it. With a brief glance up, I noted that the nearly-impassive expanse of clouds had shifted, ever so slightly. Felt like it was going to snow soon, but for the time being the fog from earlier had mostly blown away, and could almost be considered “nice” by Northern standards.

Dragging my snow covered companion to the middle of the clearing, I let her go and quickly cleaned a space for her with a brush of my wing. Given our prior interactions and relationship, I was aware that she would likely be less than pleased upon awakening, so I set up a little bit of insurance. Placing one of my recently recovered mines in the centre of the patch, unactivated, I brushed some snow back atop it then turned to the unconscious pony and heaved her onto my shoulder. Gently placing the mare atop the lightly covered device, I positioned her just so then began to back up, measuring out twenty feet before sitting down. Everything set, I realized one minor flaw in my plans — the subject of them was still unresponsive. Mulling over this problem, a number of minutes must have ticked by when at last an idea came to me. Scooping up a talonful of snow, I packed it into a loose sphere then tossed it at the unicorn, striking her back with a soft but satisfying “piff.” Given the lack of response, I was naturally inclined to repeat the action a few more times.

Free shots like those don’t come around much, so I was less than surprised when she gave off a muffled groan and began to stir. She shuffled, rolling onto her back, and I could make out her whining about snow being cold and the inherent qualities of it being wet, soon after.

Good, I thought, she was still mostly alive. Surviving. Not overly inhibited in a mental capacity by my prior assault. This was relieving, as having a blithering idiot to deal with is substantially less fun than simply an idiot. One, you can annoy — the other is simply too incapable of basic functions to know why they are annoyed. The movement and grumbles were good, but complete consciousness seemed to still be a hair off. Gathering one final bit of snow into a sphere and packing it as tightly as possible, I took aim at the top of the mare’s cranium and let fly with more force this time. Watching as the white projectile curved along its path, I added a wake up call, “Wakey wakey love, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Timing it perfectly, the snowball impacted cleanly with her jaw right as I finished my statement, prompting her to belt out a quick “Hey!” in response, as she turned her head to regard me. “So ya take my oh so comfortable apparel, tie me in it and take pot shots at me while I’m laying on… what I guess is a mine, by the feeling of it?”

A perceptive one she seemed to be; what fun. Now that she was fully awake I settled myself in place and kept my expression as neutral as possible. Nodding my head slightly, I replied evenly to the mare. “Consider it recompense for our earlier altercation. You complicated the situation rather thoroughly and I have no doubt you would do the same if our places were reversed.” Flicking my wings to get them comfortably seated I then eased myself forwards until I was laying in the snow. Crossing my forelimbs I set about watching my captive intently and asking, “Now then, down to business. What is Mr. Conjunctivitis to you? Do you buy into the whole ‘Unity’ rubbish or is it simply the power that led you to throw in with such company?”

She gave me a strange half-smile at that. “Oh yeah, I totally buy all the bull those floating murder bitches none so quietly hollar at pretty much everything with a fucking pulse. Yeah, they’re real likeable. Tea parties and shit.”

She then tried to squirm a little to get more comfortable, but seemed to think better of it. “Actually, ya know what, fuck it,” she blurted to no one in particular as her horn lit up and yanked the mine out, punching a hoof into the button on top just as it started to beep. She then looked at me, one eyebrow raised as the inert mine levitated beside her. “Um yeah, you got a counter or something ta’ put this on? Gotta keep my posture an’ all that.”

I sighed inwardly as she successfully disarmed my passively-aggressive measure, managing not to set it off in the process. Pointing lazily at a spot in the snow to her left, I answered, “Just there is fine. No real use for it at the moment.” Rolling a kink out of my neck, I scratched the bandages on my arm while considering her prior statement, before offering a reply, “Hmm, at least you’re not a complete fool.” Taking a deep breath, I let out a somewhat weary sigh. “So it's the power, or illusion thereof. Or the comradery. Or you simply find the pay acceptable and the wardrobe spiffy. Regardless, you signed up, and here we are.” Looking down briefly, I steepled my talons together and queried, “Now, what am I to do with you? I saved you from a rather cross Ranger back there due to your seemingly higher intellect than that of your prior companions. That in mind I’m hoping this little encounter can end without me having your insides for a snack.” Looking up to the mare questioningly I added, “I assume you would prefer that outcome as well?”

“Well, that does sound quite uncomfortable to say the least,” She had the decency to pale at that, before she continued, “As for the steel dipshit, I probably had it coming, kinda blew the fuck outta one of his buddies.” She stopped to chuckle to herself, “Oh yeah. Man, that one’s dumb as hell, never looks up.”

She stopped talking awhile before coming to the realization that she hadn’t really answered my question. “Um, as for me? Uh, I’m kinda making it up as I go here. Didn’t really have a plan for ever wakin’ up. Mighty grateful for that, by the way.”

This one seemed personable at least. Inasmuch as she was talking, not spouting rhetoric, nor trying to threaten me. Her worth I had yet to determine, though I wasn’t particularly inclined to getting touchy-feely at the moment. Blood was hard to wash off, and I was already covered in enough of my own. I had to keep that little bit of information to myself lest she get complacent, however.

Seeming to think over everything she had said, I spoke up after a minute or so had passed, “Yes, well, we’ll see how long it lasts. The Rangers may be a bit shortsighted — what with the helmets and all — but I happen to be rather fond of a few of them.” Gesturing to her with a wave of my talons, I added, “And you lot being around here puts them in jeopardy. Well, at least the possibility. Things will likely change when news of this… encounter gets back.” Shaking my head, I pushed away any further thought on the subject and pressed ahead, fixing her with an intent stare. “That is neither here nor there however, and what is, is you and I. Now considering our past you can understand my leanings towards harm, but I’m also willing to look at different options. That said, I need answers to three questions: What exactly were you doing here? What exactly is Red Eye and his little gang to you? And…” I paused, realizing that I had only actually had two questions. I couldn’t look confused during all of this, and the window for dramatic pause was rapidly closing. Grasping for the closest idea, I reached into my jacket and pulled out the ends of my scarf. Showing them to the mare, I finished with, “How do you think this looks?”

In retrospect, it might have been better to say nothing. In retrospect, I was panicking. In retrospect, I should probably have planned this all out better.

She hardly paused to blink before answering, “Well, by ‘here’ I think you mean ‘big picture.’” Her attempt to emphasize with her bound hooves was rather amusing, but failed to deter her. “We came here to kill those four and really, most anyone round these parts that decided to come this way. Think the word the big bird-man used was ‘destabilize.’ Fuck, whatever though. As for me, well… mostly for the caps and the food. My bro convinced me and my sister to join up with him ‘bout four years back when he just got established. Was more of a guard thing back then, but hey, shit changes.”

She paused for a while to examine my scarf, before finishing with, “Don’t see anything wrong with it, works better than the hat but who am I to talk, I willingly wore this shit.” She finished off by motioning to the tattered barding still adorning her hooves.

It seemed she had either bought my attempted cover up, or was at least humouring me. Point for me for not coming off as crazy, I suppose. Giving a slow nod of approval, I tucked the adornment away. Crossing my forelimbs again, I let out a ‘tsk’ of disappointment before speaking again, “Four years? That’s quite a commitment, regardless of reason. Would certainly be a shame if you proved to be loyal at this point. Fashion sense or no, I can’t let you go running back and letting anypony know things got dismantled.” Thinking for a few moments, I eventually shrugged and let out a sigh, digging in my coat and producing one of my recently pilfered pistols. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but there were better-than-even odds that it had been her pistol to begin with. Funny, that. “Ah well,” I sighed, “I don’t think there’s anything for it. Knowing why you were here, I clearly can’t let you go. Escorting you back to the Fort would be the only option and frankly that’s just too much trouble. Otherwise, what? Keep you? Now that’s just ridiculous. I sincerely doubt you’d be any more willing to come along with us than my compatriots would be to have you along.” Pushing myself back into a sitting position and shaking off some excess snow, I turned the floor back over to the mare. “That said, I think it only fair to let you weigh in on the issue. Any ideas? Propositions? I’m not all bad, I assure you. The bullet spent tying up this loose end could be just as useful elsewhere if you’ve another option.”

She seemed to chuckle, “Hell man, you missed the two of us that had a radio. This shindig’s already been found out. And as for loyalties? I’m probably gonna get shot which ever way I go, your Talon friends ain’t too keen on us surrendering and such. But seriously,” She propped herself into an awkward sitting position. “Ya think there’s an easy out in this business, eh? Just kinda jet in the middle of Red turf and try to make it close to a hundred clicks — on hoof — without much food? Naw, there’s a reason most ponies up here are lifers. Leadership has this weird attachment complex, the bubble erectin’ bitch seems to think wantin’ to leave means y’all are betrayin’ ‘er.” She then straightened herself out, a bit of defiance smouldering in those eyes of hers. “So if yer gonna do it make ‘er fast, and I hope by Celestia’s fiery cunt I shit myself and ruin the meal.”

Resting my chin on a talon, I stared off into space and tapped the side of my beak. So she thought I was a Talon, hmm? And more, she assumed I knew the griffon whom she spoke of. I decided to let her continue that train of thought, if for no other immediate reason than it amused me. In a soft voice, as if to myself I muttered, “Hmm, almost forgot about him. Shame to have to fight within the company but some things can’t be helped.” Of course, I’m not a Talon, but for the purposes of the interaction, that fact didn’t need to be shared.

Considering what I’d been told, and the seemingly — to her — assured fact of her doom, I couldn’t help but wonder if I could get more information out of the mare before we went our separate ways... whatever those may be. The mare had finished speaking a couple minutes before I finally roused myself, tucking the pistol back into the front of my jacket and moving to sit a rough ten or so feet from her. Straightening the front of my coat, I got comfortable again before clearing my throat and continuing our conversation, “Well, given the fact that you’re unlikely to receive a warm welcome wherever you go and that our little scuffle has been reported by now, I’m going to offer you a deal.” Folding my arms over my chest, I fixed the unicorn with a level stare and continued, “You answer a few more questions, and I let you go alive. Finding someplace to go will no doubt be hard, but you’ll have the chance to try. As you said yourself, it’s more than either side is likely to offer — and I don’t necessarily have to do the same.”

She seemed momentarily surprised, before she shrugged and replied, “Fuck. Sure, I’ll play. Whaddaya want to know?”

Either I was substantially better at interrogations than I thought, or this mare had fully resigned herself to the fact that I was going to eat her. Whichever it was, points for me! Clever or scary was equally good at this moment, as I had little idea what I was doing and was just trying to see how long I could drag things out. Quickly deploying the authorities to quell my inner celebration, I switched my mind back on track and pulled together a list of potentially useful information. “Ah good, down to brass tacks,” I began (I’d always wanted to use that phrase), pulling out the mental notepad, “First off, other than the positions we scouted, the ambush, overlook, and OP further on, how many of Red Eye’s forces are in the area? Let’s be honest, you and your gang aren’t much of a destabilizing force in the scope of the North.”

She stopped to think for a second, obviously trying to drudge up information she hadn’t cared for at the time. “Well, us lot got together at Iron Junction, me and Flow were at Trotwynd beforehand. Got moved up by rail to the junction, along with another ten or so ponies from there. That’s where we got saddled up with those two Talon assholes and about another dozen or so ponies. Most of us didn’t survive the initial muck about with the Steel assclowns. They were kinda stupid anyway, so who gives a fuck.” She paused again as a shiver went up her spine. “And uh, other than that, I know Big Red’s been movin’ ponies up from the South through some pass he cleared. Hell of a lot more ‘round here than there used to be.”

That news was disconcerting to say the least. The idea of more Red Eye forces being moved up by the day made me question if there was anywhere in the Equestrian Wasteland that wasn’t being taken over by the morons. The fact that Cheesequake and everypony at Outpost Kilo would be in danger was also a less than pleasant notion. Some Ponies were acceptable beings; nearing personable one could say. Drumming my talons against my elbow, I ground my beak a little as I processed the information, deciding on the next best line of questioning. “Well then, that’s unfortunate,” I stated, pulling myself out of the momentary stupor, “You mentioned a pass and several other locations. I assume some of those are bases of operations. Do you know the locations of any of them? Could you put them on a map?” Now I was wishing I had something to write all of this down in, and with. There was the map Cheesequake had “returned” to me along with the watch and scarf, but that seemed too valuable to scrawl all over. It also seemed like something worth keeping a secret from potentially hostile eyes — Cooperative as they may now be.

The mare shrugged, “Never been out past Cattle Cask, been through Iron Junction, Trotwynd and Saltpeet Quarry though. Most of ‘em are just towns, but Saltpeet is a full-on base, off the main path and all.” She then shrugged again, evidently in need of more direction than I’d managed to give.

I was familiar with most of those locations — at least in passing — and they were far enough away to not be immediately threatening, yet still uncomfortably close. Considering what we had just run up against, the distances were likely shorter. Neighson would need a warning sooner rather than later. Slightly addled and legitimately running out of questions, I shifted my talons down to the front pockets of my coat and carried on, “I’ve not been out that way in a while. I’m sure one can understand how that made running into you a bit of an unpleasant surprise. No offense to parties present intended.” Letting that hang in the air, I eventually broke the silence with a shrug and conclusive, “Well,” Before moving on with the task at hand. “Three more simple questions and you’ll have done your part,” I explained whilst pulling off my rucksack and beginning to fish through it. My talons busy, I fired off questions in no particular order, “Do you know roughly where this new cleared route is? Other than this roadblock, are you aware of any other operations in the area, or a timetable for… whatever it is you’re doing up here? Do you have any other allies besides the Talon Mercs? They’ll only deal with you so long as you have coin — or cap, as it were.” Hopefully that wasn’t too much for the mare to process all at once, so I temporarily stopped my rummaging to glance up at her with one eye. Sometimes these ponies could be easily overwhelmed; I blame it on their equine nature. A bulb went on as I stared at the unicorn, tossing one last question onto the pile, “Oh, and what is your name? I understand you were friends with ‘Flow’ before she was exsanguinated.”

She seemed to have grasped my requests reasonably well, and answered shortly, “No idea where this route is — higher ups are pretty tight lipped about it. I do know that they’re planning on building a train route through, still years outta the way on that one, though. As for allies and operations the small towns have all surrendered to Big Red’s rule a while back, save for a little nut job group that raises wolves and shit. Assholes, them. As for the Mercs, I don’t really know much ‘bout where all these ponies come from. They bicker and shit, and I yell at ‘em.”

I didn’t exactly mention it at the time, but there seemed to be a twinge of pain in her otherwise casual visage when I’d mentioned Flow. As she continued, I realized exactly why.

“Well… yeah. She was my sister.” She paused a second, glancing down at her hooves before meeting my gaze again. “My name’s Ebb, by the way.”

That revelation stopped me in my current task, and I raised my head to properly regard the mare, Ebb, as I had just learned. “Your sister?” I asked, looking somewhat surprised, “Flow was your sister?” My expression rapidly shifted to a scowl and I clucked my tongue, shaking my head, “‘Ebb and Flow’; ponies and their damn fruity names.” Going back to my search, I muttered, “Should thank Bernard for that lovely shot.” Moments later, I sat back up, prize in talon; a length of rope I’d almost forgotten I’d been carting around for who-knows-how long. Keeping the rope in hand, I flipped my bag shut and re-slung it before facing Ebb and speaking with a note of finality, “Well Ebb, I’m Fade, and you’ve — surprisingly — kept to your word. I’m nothing if I don’t honour mine, so you are free to go as soon as I’ve cleared out.” While I spoke, I busied my talons tying a loop in the line, tossing it up over my shoulder once I was done, then pushing myself to my feet. Steering a wide path around the unicorn, I moved to retrieve my spare mine, speaking as I went. “I’m aware you could have removed your restraints at any point here, so I’ve no illusions about your ability to get free, I simply ask you wait until I have departed.” Stowing the explosive, I turned in place to address the pony one last time, “Unless you have any parting requests I shall take my leave. No doubt my company is wondering where I’ve gone off to and what horrible things I’ve done. Sometimes, they lack faith.”

She seemed pleasantly surprised that I’d actually kept my word, which irritated me. I’d been quite clear… hadn’t I?

Anyways, she spoke up tentatively, “Um, if it’s not too much of a bother, I’d love some clothes that are more than just eviscerated cloth?” She paused, shivering, before adding almost as an afterthought, “Even some of those dead guys’ barding would be right helpful.”

I should have just kept my beak shut and left. That, or actually shot her… but then I’d have lied, and if there’s one thing I won’t do is give my word then go back on it. If I had said I intended to eat her, I would have done just that… but I hadn’t, and so there we were. Mulling over the request for a moment, I gave a non-commital shrug and replied, “I’m fresh out and I doubt my stuff will fit you, were I willing to share.” Hiking a thumb over my shoulder towards the forest proper, I continued, “It’s a long way back, not sure I could find my way a second time. Which would mean you’d freeze like I just left you there.” Lifting a talon from the ground I waved it airily and theorized, “That leaves… what? You coming back with me? I’m certain that won’t go over well. Only way it might be possible is if I say you’re a prisoner or some such. Though that can sound vaguely slave-y, don’t you think?”

She gave a barely restrained chuckle, “Does have a certain irony, I must admit.”

I blinked, and stared blankly at the unicorn for a while. Did she actually think I was serious about that? How seriously degenerate were these creatures? I leave her alive and keep to my word, then she just assumes I’d so readily take a prisoner? A… slave? I was… vaguely unsettled by this turn of events. Out of all the things I’d seen and done in the wasteland, being responsible for somepony was something I had consistently stayed away from. Yet now, I had left the opening for requests and been served one, I was almost bound to try and help her lest I seem flakey. Like… like I was almost equine. Which I most certainly was NOT. After what was likely was likely at least a few minutes I sighed, and shifted where I stood, glancing at the rope on my shoulder. “I suppose it does,” I conceded, giving the line a tug and bundling its length in one talon before trudging my way over to the still prone equine. Gazing down at the smaller creature, I lifted my full hand and let the line drop, holding up by the top of the loop. “No trying to stab me with the point, or funny business with its sparkles?” I asked, gesturing to her horn before moving any closer.

She nodded in affirmation, “Don’t worry, I know full well what’ll happen.”

I nodded back, promptly stepping forwards, slipping the line over Ebb’s head, and slid the knot tight enough that it couldn’t be easily removed. Taking a moment to coil the excess in my talon, then reached out and used a claw to slice through her fore, then rear restraints.

Talons: the always sharp, always there, utility knives!

That done, I took a few steps back and gave the mare some time to get up, tilting my head towards the trees, “Whenever you’re ready.”

She got up rather quickly — perhaps too quickly, as she put a hoof to her forehead, no doubt feeling a bit of a headache. I could sympathize. Once she’d somewhat recovered, she stretching out her legs, each in turn before replying, “Yeah, that’s a lot better. Lead on then, I guess.”

Lead-line in talon, I tromped off into the forest, following the track I had made going in, all the while keeping a close eye on Ebb as she followed along behind me. Some time into our trek I looked back over my shoulder and instructed, “When we do get back, do try not to get shot or anything. Pick something that might fit, don’t dally, and try to avoid the Ranger’s line of sight. You’ve been lovely, but that is not a train I will step in front of twice.”

Ebb smiled, her turquoise eyes twinkling as soft flakes of snow began to fall around us. “Don’t worry,” she replied, “Getting shot is pretty high on the list of things I don’t want.”

Author's Notes:

Another paralogue this time, and I like to hope that after the infamous Crafter Chapter, the concept of these things makes a bit more sense.

The editing team definitely did a number on this one. Massive adjustments throughout, and fuck was this a mess to start with. Big thanks to Belmor, Plain, PersonalGamer, and Captain Doel, along with a few new pre readers — Kylar and Pommel.