The few grey shafts of light that managed to filter through the blinds were what woke me – Not any timing, nor any sense of necessity. Not the need to keep moving or risk running out of food… It had to be the latest I’d slept in months, if not longer. It felt good.

Stretching my legs, I found them wrapped tightly around the pale blue mare I was sharing a blanket with. Careful not to wake her, I nuzzled further into Tailwind’s mane. She smelled of sweat, dirt, and everything else we’d encountered in the last week – but I didn’t care. Beneath it all was the mare who managed to remind me why I still force myself out of bed every morning.

Well, every morning but that one.

Cracking an eye open, I cast an inquisitive gaze around the room. It was a stark affair, with bare metal walls aside from a wooden divider separating our “room” from the rest of the group. Old, musty carpet covered the floor, providing at least one layer of insulation from the bare metal that peeked through in thin spots. We’d apparently arranged to have mattresses, which probably explained why I managed to sleep as long as I did. I relished the slow wake-up, taking the time to bask in the warmth of the building, the blanket… Tailwind.

Naturally, it wasn’t to last.

From the other side of the wall, I could hear Crafter slowly rousing himself. An audible gurgle met my ears, and he let out a sigh. “I’m getting hungry… is it really that late already?”

I glanced around, finding that the divider was designed to slide to the side – it was currently giving Tailwind and I what privacy we had. Pawing at it with a hoof, I managed to get it to slide halfway open. Enough for me to see into the other room, anyways. Crafter had partially extricated himself from his bedsheets, though they still draped about his shoulders like a silly looking, dingy, flower-patterned cape. Fade seemed to be staring at the carpet in the third corner of the room, right where I had slid the divider beside; he didn't seem to be registering the existence of the world around him. Finally, Bernard was leaning up against the far wall, reading a book I hadn't previously seen him with – I assumed he'd acquired it in the past day.

Having gotten my bearings, I replied to Crafter, “I wasn’t all there after…” I grimaced. No, still not good to think about that, not yet. “...the operation,” I shakily finished, eager to change the topic. “Did we actually make plans for breakfast?”

Bernard looked up from his book. “They said breakfast was covered in the tab. Don’t know what’s in it, but he said we’d have enough to hold us over.”

Fade startled me by craning his neck around to look at us, not moving from his position in the corner adjacent to Bernard’s. “‘Not all there’ is a bit of an understatement, miss. You were a bit…” He looked at me for a few seconds, seemingly mulling over his choice of wording. “Disoriented, at the time. As for food, everyone will get something, though how much you can trust it, I can’t say. If anyone is so inclined, I can offer one of you the alternative of trail food. Let me stress one of you.”

I rolled out of Tailwind’s embrace, the wing she had wrapped around me falling limply to the bedspread as I sat up. “Alright Tailwind, it would seem that it’s time to wake up after all.”

She blinked, shielding her eyes from the offending off-light coming from the window. “Why do mornings always have to start with waking up?” She moaned.

With a tolerating sigh, I replied as I brushed the blankets off of the two of us. “Because you need to wake up in order to have breakfast, silly.” Turning to Fade, I addressed his offer. “I’m sure the trail mix is delicious...” There was probably jerky, but I wasn’t going to impose, not after what he’d done for us... for me. “...but we’ll be fine with whatever fare they can provide.”

Flicking his eyes to me, Fade shrugged and waved a talon arily as he replied, “You say that now, but fair enough. The offer’s there for whomever wants it.” Casting a quick grin at me, he hooked a claw towards Crafter, who was still valiantly attempting to dislodge himself from the bedding. “Might wish you had taken it later. For all we know the Stable-colt might beat you to it.” His piece said, he dropped his arm and turned to root around in his bags, presumably looking for the aforementioned foodstuffs.

Now that we’d started talking in earnest about the prospect of food, my own stomach began making its plight known with a gurgle. Glancing down, I commented as much to myself as anything, “Well, right now I really wouldn’t care if it was two hundred year old cereal, so long as it was edible.” At the talk of food, Tailwind gave a defeated sounding sigh, before finally giving in to being awake. She extricated herself from the remains of the bed and we both started packing our gear.

Shrugging out from under his rented blanket, Crafter glanced from Fade to myself, then back again. He seemed to be debating Fade’s offer. Eventually, he decided, “I’ll take some… you know, just in case what they have isn’t all that great.”

Still digging through his gear, Fade waved a talon in response as he continued to search his bags. “I figured you would, Wrenchy.” He called back, “I know the wastes can be a bit unnerving for you Stable Dwellers, especially the cuisine.”

In the meantime, Tailwind and I finished packing before making our way to the door. Bernard quietly stowed his belongings in his saddlebags and followed along behind. Fade and Crafter would catch up eventually – in the meantime, we were hungry.

To our collective shock, breakfast turned out to be nothing short of hashed potatoes, rolled oats and scrambled eggs (Fade didn't seem particularly bothered by that, so I assumed he either didn't notice, or determined them to be some sort of lesser species). According to our server, Neighson was of such size that scavenging just wasn't a viable means of feeding the populace – it certainly helped, but the fields below Neighson were apparently the primary source of stored food over the long winter. I'd made the mistake of asking why they still needed the scavenging at all. The reply was rather terse: "That would be due to the short growing season and distinct lack of sunlight."

I suppose I should have seen that coming.

After finishing our meal, we made our way back onto the streets. First priority for the day was to get somepony to work on our scout barding. It was well made light armour… it just wasn’t nearly insulated enough for the climate we found ourselves in for the foreseeable future.

It took a while, but eventually we found a shop with a whole selection of barding of all shapes and sizes – leather, composite, steel, you name it. The one constant was that they all had furs or other material added or integrated. They certainly looked warmer than what we were wearing, so we figured we’d found the right place.

Bernard bartered on our behalf… nothing fancy, but it took a lot of convincing to get the shop pony to budge, especially when the hat dropped that he would be working on barding for a pair of pegasi. A sore spot, that. In the end, it cost us both of the shotguns (they were rusted pieces of near scrap at that point anyways, considering I never had bothered to clean them), the submachine gun, most of its ammo, and a good portion of the rest of our accumulated scrap. Bartering is weird, but I think I overheard the equivalent cap value at somewhere around three-hundred for a rush job on winterizing our scout barding, plus seventy-five for the furs involved. Having no frame of reference, all I could think was that it seemed high at the time.

Once the shopkeeper had agreed to do the job, however, his mood improved considerably. He took our measurements and had us leave the barding in his care overnight – we would be able to pick it up some time in the afternoon of the following day. He even threw in a pair of scarves to get us by – striped magenta for myself and emerald green for Tailwind. It was still frigid outside, but we were out of the wind and the population density kept the temperature higher than it was outside the gates. The scarves were enough, for what they were.

They were also… really cute, actually. He might not have liked us, but I appreciated the gesture.

By the time we left, the sun was almost at its’ apex, and our appointment loomed.

Between Crafter’s Pipbuck and Tailwind’s advice on how to navigate with the HUD, we made good time to the Ranger portion of the city. I'm sure we were all eager to get the meeting over with, one way or another.

The building in question was unassuming at best, a simple door adjacent to the large double door structure leading into the inner compound. A single Steel Ranger stood off to the left side of the office entrance.

I trotted up to the Ranger, stopping a comfortable couple paces in front of him before addressing him. “We’re here to see Star Paladin Cheesequake. I’ve been told he is expecting us…” I trailed off expectantly.

The Knight regarded me for a second before responding. Despite the helmet, I couldn’t help but get the feeling he was glaring at my wings. “Could you state your name and purpose?”

I gave him a mildly unimpressed look. “Snap Roll, Tailwind, Bernard, Crafter Odds, and the griffon Fade. Here to see the Star Paladin regarding trade with a ‘Ranger QM.” I then gave my wings an experimental flutter, taunting him just a little to say something.

It would be preferable to the silent disdain he was giving me, at any rate.

To his credit, he let the taunting slide, simply responding that we were allowed inside the waiting room, and that the Paladin would be with us in about half an hour.

The waiting room was spartan at best, its sole decoration consisting of a single poster on the far wall beside the door I presumed we would be called into when the time came. The poster was of a rearing Steel Ranger amidst a field of evil looking figures with glowing red eyes. A caption in bold stylized font declared, “Keep him fighting -- buy war bonds today!” It seemed to be trying to rally us to a cause a couple centuries too late.

Still, I couldn’t help but appreciate the irony – despite everything, the stylistic purpose of the piece was still relevant… maybe even moreso, now. Red Eyes, indeed.

Finding ourselves seats, we settled in to wait out the last bit of time before our appointment. The benches provided were comfortable enough, and a series of magazines and books on a small coffee table provided some means of distraction. Leafing through their collection of magazines, I idly flipped covers until I happened upon a cover graced by a splash of yellow and vibrant orange. Paging back, the cover story seemed to be an interview with then-captain of the Wonderbolts, the always-stunning Spitfire! I was shocked – the magazine was miraculously intact since even before the war. The spreads were interesting enough – taken with an eye for accentuating her natural curves and athletic build, but didn’t go far enough to be provocative. Still, those pages seemed to be quite a bit more heavily paged through than the rest of the magazine. Flipping past, it turned out that the interview covered flying tips, in enough detail to completely engross my attention. Needless to say, I began reading in earnest.

The time passed quickly, and I had only just put the magazine down when a young mare with a bright orange coat opened the door at the far end of the hall, right at the turning of the hour. Unlike the other Rangers we’d seen, she was wearing a black dress uniform, well pressed but relatively unadorned (at least by Enclave standards). She regarded our group, seemingly to make sure she was addressing the right people. Satisfied, she stated curtly, “Come in.”

Setting the magazine aside, I got to my hooves and made my way towards the indicated door, eager to see how closely this “Star Paladin Cheesequake” resembled the the mental image I’d developed of him.

Behind me, the others stood and followed. Catching up first, Fade commented, “Bit frosty, that one,” He seemed to say, to nopony in particular, “Guess she’s been outside too long. Clothed like that and I can see why.”

Pausing halfway to the door, I turned to reply offhandedly, “Now Fade, be nice. They are willing to deal with us, for the time being at least.”

Crafter came to a halt behind the two of us, “He’ll act fine, I don’t think we should worry too much,” He added, before making sure his duster fell low enough to cover the Pipbuck he wore. Just in case.

Glancing at me with a perplexed slant to his eyes, Fade waved a talon dismissively. “You. They are willing to deal with you,” He corrected, “I’ve got little business here other than making sure you arrived.” Pausing, he tilted his head to the side as a realization struck him. “Which you did, I’m relatively sure. Which begs the question: why am I still here?” He turned his eyes over the rest of the group, as if seeking an answer to his quandary.

I mimicked the tilt of his head as I responded, “Well, I suspect the answer is ‘because you want to be with us.’” I then turned more fully towards him, giving the question the proper address it deserved, even if I couldn’t provide him with a full answer. “For my part, I appreciate what you’ve done for us, and would be happy to see you stay.”

Crafter voiced his assent, “Yeah, I agree! Plus, I could really learn a few things from you yet.”

Tailwind piped up, “And you never know when you’ll find a set of ponies quite like us again, now do you?” She finished with a wide smile.

Bernard was silent. I imagine he might still be a tad ticked off about the whole carriage-pulling incident. It also occurred to me that he had probably ended up paying for Fade’s stay at the inn.

Taken slightly aback, Fade stared silently at Crafter, Tailwind and myself for a moment. Glancing down, he shifted his stance and dragged his claws lightly across the floor. “That… that’s good to hear,” He began, giving a bow of his head as he regarded the three of us. “Though not exactly what I meant.” He raised a taloned hand, palm up, gesturing to the room around us. "I meant more as in, here. Right here in the Ranger base.” Letting that hang for a moment, he hastily added, “You’re the ones who need to trade with them; I’m not terribly short on gear.”

Oh shit, play it cool.

I hastily ran a forehoof through my mane, nonchalantly replying, “Oh, um… in that case… I guess you can wait out here if you want. Seems to me like it would be more interesting for you to come with.”

He eyed me suspiciously, a grin tugging at the corners of his beak as he considered my statement. Nodding soon after, he shrugged and relented. “Fair enough. This room is a bit bland aside from the fascinating reading material.” He hooked a claw at the magazine I had previously been… ah, studying. “Thank you, though,” he remarked. “It’s good to know you appreciate my company. Apparently almost as much as you appreciate two-hundred year old dead-mares.”

He seemed about to move on, when he leaned closer and whispered, “Nice save, also.” He then stepped towards the door, leaving us behind.

I shook my head, smiling as I followed him through the door. My thoughts were far from the impending meeting with the Star Paladin.

The room we’d been invited into had various vanity pieces adorning the desk that dominated the room. Some old pictures and military blueprints were framed and put on the wall as pictures. There was another door off to the left of the rather large conference room. Benches were set out in a semicircle facing the desk, presumably for us to sit in.

Once we were all inside, the attendant followed us, coming to a halt at the rear of the room, just inside the door. “Take a seat,” She beckoned, “Star Paladin Cheesequake will be along shortly.”

Ahh, not necessarily punctual, but has punctual subordinates… or he’s really busy.

Seeing as the Paladin wasn’t actually present, I gave a cursory glance over the blueprints on the walls, before taking a seat as instructed. Power armour diagrams, a layout of the moving parts of their seemingly trademark automatic grenade launcher, and a couple more. They were standard stuff, things the Enclave had probably known for years – But that didn’t mean I had benefitted from that knowledge.

Hey, they left them there. Not my fault.

We all waited around for what couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, before the other door burst open. The stallion who’d opened it had a greyish white coat with a deep brown mane, neatly cropped. His uniform was sharply pressed, bearing the insignia of his rank. While his appearance was quite proper, his coat showed the scars of many years of duty. A jagged, deep scar took up most of the right side of his face, with his eye on that side seemingly quite dead – it was a consistent, milky white. His other was a deep green, and glanced from one of us to the next with a surety that made me feel like I had erred by not coming to attention when he entered the room. His dead eye tracked just fine, something that made me distinctly uncomfortable. Despite the deformities, he carried himself surely and with a purpose that oozed authority.

“Thank you for waiting,” His voice boomed, a thick bass tone with the subtle rumble of a voice that must have been used to speaking to an assemblage on a parade ground… or in combat. “Cheezit, you’re dismissed.” A note of humour had entered his voice when he said that, before he swiftly took a seat at his desk.

With a sharp salute, she couldn’t quite hide the glare she threw to her superior officer once he could no longer see her eyes. I gathered that there was a story behind that. She turned and left the room without a word. I restrained a giggle, hoping for her sake ‘Cheezit’ was a nickname.

Having had a second to look us over, Cheesequake first addressed the griffon among us. “Ah, Fade. Good to see you again. I heard you had... a bit of an accident since we last spoke.”

Fade had been scrutinizing the pictures on the wall when he was addressed, and it seemed to take a second for him to realize he was expected to reply. He blinked, glancing at the Ranger with an uncomprehending expression. Even his beak hung partly open, before he replied warily, “Ah, did you? Well we… may have some things to discuss later, Star Paladin. If you would allow it.”

Cheesequake nodded, and evidently that was that for the time being. He turned his gaze to me. “Now, Snap Roll, was it? And company. What do you need?” He spoke swiftly, and at an even tone. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it still gave the impression that he would not allow us to waste his time, regardless of our thoughts on the matter.

Not a pony to be trifled with.

“Yes sir,” I replied automatically, “we’re here because we’ve found a couple items that, to my mind, would be considerably more valuable to the Rangers than to the wastelanders living in and around your fort. The first is simply a set of well-maintained steel armor, but the other…” I paused, slowly and carefully drawing the magical blade in as non-threatening a manner as possible, unwrapping the cloth rag I’d wrapped around it to keep it from cutting other things in my bag. “This blade is enchanted to negate magical healing for the wounds caused by it. I won’t insult the the Steel Rangers by assuming everything I’ve been told about your group is actually correct, but from what I’ve gathered, removing items like this from circulation through the wasteland is a fairly high priority. Especially were a group to have the capacity to reverse-engineer this particular enchantment…” I let that sink in for a moment before continuing, dead serious. “Both the Rangers and Enclave would want this out of other hooves, of that I’m sure. And for our part, we would be very appreciative of a finders’ fee for having found and returned such a weapon.” I was fully aware that, as much as we would be sent to the quartermaster should he give the “okay,” it was Cheesequake whom I had to sell it to. And hopefully, the implication that I chose to give it to the Rangers solidified our stance on the issue.

He stared at the blade, contemplation wrought on his face. “You found this… where?”

I raised my head with a bit of justified confidence, replying, “We found it in the possession of a group of now-dead raiders that had holed up in the abandoned bunker complex, a few hours trot from the southern waystation.” I paused, adding as an aside, “We didn’t exactly have a chance to find out where they got it from originally. Things got a little… heated.”

Cheesequake thought on that for a second, leaning back in his chair before responding. “Well good job on that then. That was the bunker that had the surveillance suite in it?” I nodded in reply. “By all means, we’d be more than willing to take that off of your hooves, and yes, you will be compensated. Now, was that all you needed?”

Seeing the opportune time to pipe up, Bernard decided to interject. “Excuse me Star Paladin, but we were also told that you had information on a mercenary known as ‘the Serpent.’” He looked pained to have to bring up his recent past, but continued regardless. “Not two weeks ago, he attacked my family's residence to the south and took my daughter. Any information would help us find him.”

“Ah yes,” Cheesequake nodded, turning and beginning to type onto a computer integrated into his desk. “The bounty hunter contracted out by Red Eye.” After a few seconds of typing, and a few more for his eyes to scan the result, he turned back to us. “He stopped here not a week past. Had a filly with him, got some supplies and left. Went out west, along the railbed and out of our area of influence.”

As Cheesequake was finishing his summary, Bernard interrupted, anger filling his voice, “You mean he was here, with my daughter and you just let him go on his way?!”

The paladin’s response was slow coming, as he fixed his milky-eyed glare firmly on Bernard. “Yes, we did.”

I heard Tail fidget behind me. She had to be uncomfortable with attempting to pick a side here, sympathizing with both points of view.

Seeing Tailwind’s indecision, I came to the conclusion that a mediator was needed before things got out of hoof. I got to my hooves and placed myself between the two ponies, giving Bernard an understanding look. “It isn’t worth it, Bernard. We can’t change the past. At least he told us. “Turning my head to address the Star Paladin, I finished on a relatively curt note. “Thank you for the information.”

Cheesequake just nodded in acknowledgement, when we were interrupted by the door at the side of the room swishing open. A younger mare entered – another earth pony – wearing power armour, sans-helmet. She had an off-white coat that would have almost blended in with the snow perpetually around us if it wasn't for the shock of bluish purple mane that she wore short and out of her eyes. She looked kind of surprised that she had interrupted a meeting. “Ah, Knight Frostfire.” Cheesequake commented, “Here for Paladin Morning Star, I presume?” He spoke kindly to his subordinate, very much contrary to his manner of speech with our group.

The mare paused for a second, her eyes sweeping over the assembled group before she finally spoke. “Yes, sir. I’m here for our radio codes.” She addressed the Star Paladin, but she didn’t seem able to keep her eyes off of Fade.

Now, I didn’t need to make eye contact with Tailwind to know that both of our interests were piqued the instant she said “radio codes” and we weren’t ejected from the room. We did our very best to remain as unnoticeable as possible, all things considered (which wasn’t very).

Needless to say, our hopes crashed when the scarred buck reached into a drawer in his desk and hoofed over a small slip of paper to the young Knight. With a slight chuckle in his voice, he asked, “Never seen a griffon before, Frostfire?”

My disappointment was almost audible. Almost.

“Oh, uh… no, sir.” She stuttered, tearing her eyes off of Fade, a slight blush colouring her pale cheeks. She retrieved the note from his offering hoof and stowed it in the collar of her power armour. The suit’s distinct lack of pockets seemed to be making itself rather apparent. “Thank you, sir.” She finished primly, turning to retreat the way she’d come, the door swishing shut behind her.

“Very good,” Cheesequake replied, “Best of luck.” Turning back to us, his old tone returned the instant the door shut behind her. “Now, where were we?”

Breezing past where he had left off with Bernard, I replied tactfully, “You were setting us up to visit your quartermaster to trade for supplies, I do believe.”

“Ah yes,” He replied, tapping a few keys on his keyboard once again. “I’ve set up an account under your name. If you wish to meet with the QM, I can arrange an escort for you and your… entourage.”

I leaned forward. This was our best shot at getting answers – some of them, anyways – and I wasn't going to let it pass me by. “Actually, there is one more thing,” I added, making an effort to pick my words carefully. “I want to know what really happened at Trotwynd, between the Enclave and the Steel Rangers.”

As soon as I mentioned Trotwynd, the Star Paladin’s face grew dour, and he dropped the papers he had only just picked up. “You'd best watch where you tread with this subject child,” he warned as he leaned forward onto his desk. “My Rangers had a station in that town when your Enclave decided to turn its attention on it. They descended without warning upon us and that town, killing and destroying at will.” He paused, choosing his next words. “I saw no mission plan other than annihilation of the populace. Me and mine made best speed with as many civilians as we could to the shelter of the gutted stable in Trotwynd. Your winged companions found it much harder to fight us in the confines of those hallways.”

I sighed, maintaining eye contact with the older buck. “My father might well have died there. Without condoning what he did, I just want to know... why? There was nothing they would have wanted there? Anything?” It occurred to me that I probably sounded desperate. I backed off a bit, dropping my eyes as I added, slightly abashed, “I'm... I'm sorry. A griffin under your employ – Gwynn – referred to Tailwind and I as 'loyalists.' I thought you might know something I didn't...” I trailed off, looking back up at him.

“There is quite a bit that you do not know,” he replied cryptically, giving me the ghost of a hope that he would just tell me... a hope that was dashed when he added, “And it looks likely that it shall stay that way. I'm not in the position to give out potentially privileged information, nor would I want to even if I was.” His voice darkened further as he continued, “As for your father, your commanders sent fifteen of your troopers into that Stable. I made damn sure not a single one ever saw his precious sky again.” With that said, he turned to type once again, more sustained this time. It seemed for all the world like he had moved on to more mundane office-work. “Now, if that is all I would have to ask you to leave, as I have business to attend to.”

“We’ll wait for the escort outside.” I replied, my voice strained. I had hoped to attempt to barter for the information, maybe with the promise of a full report from our planned expedition to the west… but with that kind of a response, I bit my lip and soldiered on. “Thank you for your time, Star Paladin.” With a nod, I stood and made my way out of the room. As I passed Fade, I caught his gaze and commented, “It seems you two have some catching up to do…” I did what I could to put a hopeful inflection into it, truly hoping he would find out something about his past. “I’m sure our errands would be rather boring for you, anyways.”

Remaining seated as the rest of us filed out of the room, Fade simply nodded in response. He piped up as Crafter passed him by, “Don’t get swindled now, Wrenchy.” His eyes followed us out the room, until the doors closed behind us with an ominous ‘thunk.’

Bernard coughed into his hoof, “If it’s alright with the rest of you, I have some business in town that I could take care of while you’re trading with the Rangers.” It could have been mistaken for a question, but his eyes said otherwise – whatever business it was, he certainly didn't mean to share it.

I didn’t have any issue with his plan, so I nodded my assent as he cantered off towards the exit. Soon it was just Tailwind, Crafter and myself standing in the lobby. We made ourselves comfortable as we waited for our guide.

It wasn’t long before a young mare came in and greeted us. “Um, Snap Roll is it? I’ve got orders to escort you to the QM…?” She was an earth pony wearing the long robes of the scribes, with an energy pistol strapped on a leg holster much like my own. The way she spoke, it sounded more like a question than anything else, like we should know what her orders where.

“That would be us,” I replied. “The escort is much appreciated, Scribe…?” I glanced down at the pistol holstered on her foreleg, mildly envious of the ammo she evidently had for the excellent little sidearm. I contented myself with the knowledge that she would soon be leading me to a pony with the capacity to rectify that particular situation.

She stammered for a second before replying, “Uh no ma’am, Initiate, and it's just this way.” She led us onward, through the building and out into the inner courtyard. The trip was short, but for a brief time we managed to get a good look at the inner compound. A large parade square and training fields were coupled with the dense number of buildings, most appearing to be administrative or barracks, all lending some grand sense of purpose to the whole area. Like it was meant for bigger things. The few ponies left the place feeling empty. Those fields should have hundreds of troops moving about. Training, drilling, readying themselves… instead, it seemed like the handful of ponies left were simply standing guard over a shell, trying in vain to continue living under the glories of the past.

Or something like that.

Taking in the sights as we walked, I commented to the initiate, “There are so few ponies manning this bastion… is this attrition at work from fighting Red Eye, or have the numbers just declined since the bombs fell?”

She startled slightly, and clearly wasn’t comfortable, but she answered how she could. “Um a bit of both I guess, ma’am. This facility has a capacity of ten thousand ponies of all ranks, but even before the bombs fell, Neighson was undermanned. What with Anti-Material rifles and larger air assets at play, Ranger formations were less of a focus.” I noted that even she avoided commenting on the more recent role Red Eye was playing. I could fill in the blanks, and it didn’t sound good.

I nodded sagely, aware of that particular part of the war being the point at which the venerable Raptor airships saw a great deal of focus placed on them, after the zebras managed to convince a series of dragons to fight for them. The Skyguard saw its fiercest fighting in those late stages of the war. Now that I think about it, must really have sucked for the ground pounders…

Lost in thought, I didn’t notice as Tailwind cantered up to make her presence known in the conversation. “As amusing as it is, you don’t have to call her ‘ma’am.’ We’re both enlisted in a military that may or may not even recognize our ranks if we manage to make our way back.”

Distraught, I replied, “Hey! I was enjoying the feeling of deference for once!”

“Be that as it may,” Tail chuckled, “It isn’t nice to tease the ones that are too new to know better.” She retorted with a smile.

Understandably, the initiate didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so in what I imagine was a moment of clairvoyance she simply decided not to. Instead, she left us to idly bicker for the remainder of the short trip. With a slight cough to catch our attention, she stated, “Um, this is the QM here Miss Snap Roll, Paladin Checker is just inside by the front desk.” She gestured onwards, through the door of a particularly drab-looking building.

“Thank you for the escort, initiate.” I replied amiably, “I’m sure we’re interrupting your busy day. When we’re done we’ll be able to find our way back to the entrance.” After seeing the shy little initiate off, I had to wonder if the quartermaster’s name was in any way indicative of how busy his average day was.

Inside, the floor sloped sharply downwards. The QM itself was a mostly underground building. Nevertheless, the stores area itself spanned the width of the room about six meters in from the door. A larger stallion sat behind one of the terminals reading a magazine. From our distance, I could make out a pegasus splayed across the cover, and could make a guess at the contents.

Seeing the buck fully absorbed in his reading material, I wouldn’t want him to miss out on the real thing. As I casually made my way towards his desk, swaying my hips just so as I did, I commented loudly enough for him to hear, “Oh, so this is the ‘Ranger QM.” I put a bit of wonder into my tone, sure that he would love to educate the little lost pegasus about the wonders of yet another QM. As I approached further, I addressed him directly, “Have we come at a bad time?”

I was laying it on a bit thick, but in my experience dealing with any sort of quartermaster takes a bit of persuasion to get them to see eye-to-eye. That is to say, get them to actually do their job.

The QM took a second or two to gather his wits about him enough to realize he had guests. Quickly stashing the magazine (in the form of tossing it off to the right, where it hit a shelf and slid to the floor), the rather large earth pony cleared his throat and responded. “Oh, um… no, not at all ma’am, how can I help you-” He took note of Tailwind entering after Crafter, “...and your lovely friend there?”

Sauntering up, I rested my forelegs on his desk. “Well that’s great news to hear. You see, we’ve gotten ourselves some credit with the Rangers, courtesy of Star Paladin Cheesequake. We were looking to cash that in and acquire some supplies for the long trip ahead of us.” I maintained eye contact, easily keeping up the act. He wasn’t quite flustered, but I had him on the back hoof, and I intended to keep it that way.

At the word “credit,” I saw him give a soft scowl. I’d come to know supply personnel hated that word above most others. Still, he coughed out a reply quickly enough, “Oh yes, I got a message from him earlier. That must mean you’re Snap Roll then?”

“That’s me,” I replied, inclining my head towards the others. “Tailwind and Crafter Odds are my companions.” Tailwind gave a smile and a wave of her hoof when introduced, right on cue. I dropped into a slightly more businesslike tone as I started listing off things we needed, using the primary feathers on my right wing to count, almost subconsciously. “We’re looking into acquiring energy weapon ammo, micro and small spark cells, as well as recharges for the same; we’ve also got a damaged beam rifle much in need of some TLC…”

As I mentioned it, Tail glanced sadly (almost melodramatically so) at the rifle adorning her battlesaddle. The weapon certainly looked like it had seen better days, what with the still-warped casing… most of the major components were functional, but it would certainly need parts. It was kind of a wonder it had worked for us as long as it did.

“We’re also wanting to acquire a spark battery-to-spark cell charging bridge…” I continued, leading up to the kicker, what I’d really been trying to get my hooves on in the first place. “Oh, and we’ll also be needing magical healing potions, as well as bandages. Both magical and mundane, naturally.” Naturally, like I hadn’t just asked for some of the most high demand supplies they had.

He sighed as he logged into his console. “Looking at your credit, we might be able to work something out here. Although stock is limited and I won’t dig into needed stores for us here.”

As soon as I saw him finish logging in, I gave a quick flutter of wings, hopping over the counter. I settled on hovering slightly off the ground, high enough to look at the screen over his shoulder. I knew QM’s, and I knew he’d lie through his teeth to me if he thought he could get away with it. With each flap of wings, my lowermost primaries brushed against his back, completely by coincidence. I gave a quick scan over the screen. There was a lot there, and I needed to look for what I needed… If I happened to get a sense of what their level of supplies was at simultaneously, so much the better. As I scanned, I commented idly, “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of taking from the needed supplies. I’m aware of the ongoing fight against Red Eye.” I switched back to the ‘pegasus grateful for the protection of the big strong earth pony’ tone, “I’d much rather have you and your bucks keeping them at bay, thank you very much.”

He’d almost catch the sarcasm if I didn’t coat it in so much honey.

The buck seemed to be caught between unfathomable rage at having another pony on his side of the counter… and the rather pleasant feeling of a mare whispering sweet nothings into his ear. In the end, sheer sex appeal won out, for the time being at least. “Well, um… yes! Our boys do well enough against that slavin’ asshole!” He puffed out his chest at that. I knew, because I felt it against my feathers with every downward flap.

Glancing over the series of spreadsheets adorning his terminal, I quickly set about picking out the items I needed, pointing to allotments as I did. I spared a glance at a message titled “Credit for the Turkeys” to quickly check how much our credit actually amounted to. To my immense glee, I discovered that either Cheesequake was quite the generous stallion, or they really didn’t want that weapon staying in the wastes. “These parts here,” I delicately pointed a hoof in the general direction of the relevant spreadsheets as I indicated them.

‘Rainy day weapon parts?’ Yeah, some of those will fix up Tailwind’s rifle nicely.

“A couple of these…”

‘Siege stores?’ If they can’t spare a hoof-full of energy cells from here, things were already going very poorly. Now, for the medical supplies… but from where…

I scanned the terminal screen for a good couple seconds, frowning as I looked for some form of expendable medical supplies, to no avail. Most of what the Rangers had on hoof for medical supplies seemed to be accounted for, and I wasn’t even going to try asking for those. In fact, a decent chunk of what they had once had on hoof had just been picked up by what looked like a presence patrol squad.

He gave a grunt in response to my suggestions. “Yeah, could work I suppose. If it comes to it, we can requisition some kit from the civvies.”

Idea!

I gave him a sly smile, “Sounds like a solid plan. Might I suggest requisitioning the medical supplies from a particularly asinine doctor by the name of Blood Clot? Considering how difficult he is with patients, I’m sure he can spare them.” My expression brightened, and I gave another solid flap of wings and returned to the proper side of the counter. I’d been pushing my luck as it was, but it seemed to have paid off for us. “Thank you ever so much. You’ve been a great help, Paladin… Checker, was it?”

He gave me a smile and an affirmative grunt as he worked away at his terminal to balance stock. Its always a good idea to get into the good books of quartermasters, even if you didn’t plan to see them long. Them and cooks, for that matter.

After he finished, he moved off into the caged area behind him to begin assembling our order. “Come back tomorrow,” He called out, “I’ll have everything in order by then!”

With a nod, I cantered triumphantly back to the pair waiting near the entrance with my head held high, I waited until we’d all turned to leave and had crossed the threshold before sharing a hoof bump with Tailwind. With a very much amused smile, she turned and commented, “Looks like you still know how to deal with supply techs, chief.”

With a victorious chuckle, I replied, “Always have, always will.”

Not long after we’d left the building, Crafter sped up to come abreast of us as we cantered back towards the entrance to the compound. He wore his normal expression – that is to say, one of minor confusion – as he asked, “What are you two talking about? I feel like I missed something… again.” When his eyes met mine, he quickly glanced away, hiding a blush.

Oh, I guess he would have seen that little show I put on, from behind me… Heh, whoops.

Tail caught my smirk as she kept up the pace, and looked briefly conflicted. Almost like she was debating whether or not it was worthwhile to fill Crafter in on the subtle nuances of the relationship between military supply systems and the troops they support – or in our particular case, which is even worse-off, those they would happen to be trading with – but instead, she simply replied with a chuckle, “Oh Crafter, what would we ever do without you?”

Crafter kept up, but his expression dropped at that, his muzzle pointed more or less towards his hooves. “Well, I’d assume you’d do the same thing you’re currently doing, just without me…” That made me want to think of something to try and cheer him up.

However, before either Tailwind or myself could respond, we were interrupted by a shout of “Lenākošais!" from above and behind us, causing me to turn on my heel to see where the ruckus had come from.

What I caught sight of was, for better or worse, probably burned into my memory at this point. A ballistic griffon, now adorned with a red and black scarf, was about a split second from barreling headlong into the lot of us, arms stretched wide. My thoughts on the matter, in the time I had available, were probably along the lines of “Oh, feathers.”

For her part, Tailwind actually managed to cry out in glee, “Fade!” as she snapped around, outstretching her forehooves in a welcoming manner, not making a single attempt to dodge.

The collision must have been spectacular, to say the least. The domino effect caused by the much larger griffon colliding with us lead to a tangle of limbs and lightly moaning bodies. I felt Crafter pressed up against me. I guessed that Tailwind was somewhere on the other side of the fuzzy cannonball that was Fade, due in no small part to her speaking up from somewhere over there, “Fade, if this is how you wanted it to end up, you just had to ask…”

Rubbing my head with a free hoof, I glanced up at the griffon splayed on top of Tail, Crafter and myself. I managed to ask from beneath the press of bodies, “So I take it your talk went… swimmingly, Fade?”

He let out a thoughtful “Hmm,” as he drummed a talon on the nearest available surface (which happened to be my side). “It went fairly well, actually. As it turned out, I wasn’t in trouble, nor did I owe the Rangers anything. It was...”He paused, and I felt the talons lift from where he’d rested them, “More to catch up, I suppose. Turns out Cheesequake and I used to know each other. Not that I know him now.” Again he paused, this time to wave at a pair of scribes giving us some very strange looks, as if two pegasi, a unicorn, and a griffon in a pile didn’t happen everyday in their barracks. Public affairs dealt with, Fade collected himself and carefully extricated himself from our impromptu pony-pile with a short flap of wings, landing a few feet away and already setting about smoothing down his feathers.

The rest of us set about untangling ourselves, and Crafter was the first to speak up. “That was… less than preferable.” It took him a couple tries, but he eventually got his hooves under him. “Did uh, Cheesequake manage to help any?’ He asked.

“The Star Paladin?” Fade replied, “He… wasn’t detrimental, I’ll put it that way. Now I at least know that I knew him, and I know how I came to know him in the first place.” He gave a short pause before adding, “Yes. I suppose he did.”

Having extricated herself from the opposite side, Tail fluttered up behind Fade, running her hooves along the end of his black and red scarf. “It seems he got something out of it,” She chirped.

In response, Fade glanced back to see what she was referring to. “Oh, right.” He replied, almost sounding surprised. He then pulled the scarf away, displaying the design to the rest of us – there was the stylized silhouette of a griffon upon it, but not much else aside from being a very nice scarf. “He also returned some things I had left behind,” Fade added, “A compass, a watch, a scroll, and this scarf. Nothing has struck the proverbial chord of memory up to this point, but who knows with these things.”

There wasn’t much more to be said to that. Still, it was progress for him, at least.

As the excitement of Fade’s arrival and subsequent display died down, Crafter was once again the one to point out that he really didn’t know what we were doing in Neighson. “So, what are we doing next?”

“Next,” I replied, “We’re going to teach you to shoot.”

The sharp report of Crafter’s pistol echoed off the concrete walls of the courtyard, as a puff of straw plumed into the air from off to the right of the target he was firing at. The firing range was deserted aside from the two of us, and the quiet after his shot was only broken by the tinkle of the shell casing landing in a small pile of its kin.

“I’m just no good at this,” Crafter sighed, lowering the pistol and ejecting the spent magazine with his magic. I noted that he checked the barrel to make sure it was empty, just like I’d taught him in the last half-hour.

After we’d finished shopping, I’d taken Crafter aside to practice his shooting while the others took care of other preparations. Bernard was still out in the market, I honestly had no idea what Fade was doing,, but he was perched on a building on the periphery of the range; and Tailwind was snoozing back in the range control hut. The shooting range itself was set along the northern edge of Neighson, still in the outer ring, but butted right up against the mountain itself.

There was single target set up about twenty meters from us, with a berm of dirt behind it. A smattering of holes dotted the periphery of the paper target, but it would be generous to attempt to call it a grouping at this stage.

“Well, like I said, I don’t know how you unicorns wrap your heads around this.” I gestured with a hoof towards the distinct lack of a bony protrusion on my forehead. “Maybe if I teach you to shoot earth pony style, then you could learn from there, hmm?”

Crafter didn’t seem particularly enthused. “Well, I guess anything could help at this point.”

“Hey now, if you’re gonna be stuck here, you might as well learn to defend yourself,” I replied, nabbing the pistol out of the air with a forehoof. “Open wide!” I coursed, not giving him a chance to reply before shoving the bit into his mouth. It might have been rougher than I strictly needed to be, but he managed to open his mouth in time.

“Mmmph.” He replied once I’d stepped back, his words completely unintelligible around the weapon clutched between his teeth.

“First lesson!” I called out, “Don’t speak. If that had been loaded, I’d be dodging bullets right now.”

He nodded, almost shyly.

Quick learner, that one.

“Second lesson!” I cheerily continued, falling easily into my instructor mindset. “Adopt a stable firing stance. Hooves slightly further than shoulder-width apart, Crafter.”

He adjusted his stance, but it looked awkward. Forced. He wanted to follow the instruction, but lacked the capacity.

Good thing I knew how to help.

I frowned, stepping forwards, right up to him. Then, without warning, I reared up on my hindlegs and gave him a solid shove with my front hooves, right against his shoulders.

He was pushed back a couple hoof-lengths, but he dug his hooves in and crouched, arresting his momentum. He spat the pistol out, catching it in his magic. “What was that for? I did what you asked!”

“Ah, ah ah,” I chided, “Don’t move! Look at that stance. See how your legs are slightly bent? That’s how you shoot. Ready to move, but also ready to hold your ground.” I stepped out of the way, coming to stand beside him, facing the target. He glanced down, surprised at his own instinctual stance. With a smile on my face, I called out, “With a fresh magazine, load!”

Even if he didn’t have his form down, he was still quite good at following orders. Without even glancing away, he’d pulled a new magazine from his saddle with magic, slamming it home into the pistol. He then looked up to me, and I indicated with a hoof towards my own mouth. He caught the hint, and levitated the bit into his own mouth, more gently this time.

“Okay, now that you’re down behind the weapon, I can teach you how I was taught.” I started, sidling up right beside him, leaning in to see where exactly he was looking at the pistol from – up til now, he’d been missing wide right for most of his shots.

“See those two sight posts right up close?”

He nodded.

“Line those up with the third, right in the center.”

He nodded again, closing his left eye.

“A bad habit, that.” I remarked, “Learn to shoot with both eyes open. Means you’ve got a better field of view, don’t get sucked in as much – don’t worry, it’ll make more sense eventually.”

He nodded again, taking a breath through his nose and keeping both eyes open this time.

“Crafter, ready your weapon.”

With a forehoof, he reached up and racked the slide, making sure the round seated properly before aiming at the target again.

I didn’t want to startle him. He just seemed so intent. The barrel wavered, but pointed more accurately at the target than it had. Leaning in close, I whispered in his ear, “Fire.”

His shot rang out in the quiet courtyard. Once he'd recovered from the new experience of recoil, Crafter frantically looked around the target, not having seen the splash of his round against the hay. When he finally found it, he let out a happy little noise.

The hole was to the right of center, just barely breaking the yellow segment of the bullseye. Had that been an enemy, the shot would have been enough to hit, and that's what mattered at this stage.

I gave him a smile and ruffled his mane. “I knew you could do it. Two more magazines, just like that. Then we’ll call it a day.”

He slipped the pistol out of his mouth with his magic. He was staring at the target with a wide smile across his face as he replied, “Will do!”

We finished our errands for the day not long before we lost the sun’s light, an even shorter day than normal due to the city being in the shadow of the mountain. We’d have to spend at least one more day in the city – it was supposedly a full day’s trot to the next safe haven to the west, and we still had things to pick up, and work to wait on. Since Bernard had met back up with us he seemed antsy, eager to be back on his daughter's trail as fast as possible. Ultimately, he accepted it as a necessity when Tailwind and I pointed out that we weren’t going to be leaving without barding – not this time.

Crafter seemed eager to call it a night, but I had a better plan.

“Fade, I think its about time we sampled those ‘wasteland beverages’ you promised,” I worded it a bit like a challenge, though he didn’t take to it like I would have, had our positions been reversed. Still, he did agree, and we hardly stopped to drop off our gear and lock our room before we headed out again, this time looking for a bit of fun.

As Fade led us to the bar, I was taken aback at first. Before us stood a pair of conical towers, connected at ground level by a rectangular building with a square roof. The towers themselves rose up to slightly below the rim of Neighson’s walls. From the roof, a pony could probably have a view of the entire valley if they were tall enough. The front of the building was adorned with a sign in slapdash wasteland style proclaiming it to be the “Loaded Breech.” I could only assume it was referring to the guns that must once have been mounted in it. I could hear music coming from within, muted by the thickness of the walls.

Without breaking his pace, Fade continued right on into the bar, followed by Bernard and Crafter, who looked distinctly ill-at-ease.

As Tailwind made to follow Bernard in, I reached out a wing, holding her up for a moment. “Hey, can we, um… talk for a minute?” I asked tentatively, as our hesitation gave us a few moments of privacy.

She stopped, cocking her head and replying, “Sure, what about?”

“Well, after… yesterday, when Blood Clot gave us the news,” I started, glancing down at my snow covered hooves. I toyed with the snow for a second, awkwardly, before looking back up at her. “After he said I couldn’t have kids, I’ve been thinking.”

Her eyes grew somber as I brought up the topic. “Oh? About what I said, or…?” She trailed off, urging me to continue.

Well, I’ve gotta say it sometime.

“Tail, I’d like to know if I still work,” I blurted, biting the proverbial bullet and simply saying what had been gnawing at my mind for the last day, even as a blush coloured my cheeks scarlet. “That I can still feel down there, at least. I know it’s sudden, and… a terrible time. But do you think we could, you know...?” I trailed off, gambling on her being able to pick up what I was implying.

“Oh,” She stammered, momentarily taken aback. I could tell I’d surprised her, but I still wasn’t sure how she’d react. It was still so soon since Nosedive had died, but I hoped it might be a good experience, if the opportunity presented itself – for both of us. My fears at how she’d react were quickly quashed as she added with a sultry smile, “Chief, if you wanted us to find a stallion for the night, you know all you had to do was ask.” She paused a second, seemed to consider something, then added with the sweetest tone she could, "...or some griffon." She batted her eyes at me, that innocent little smile gracing her visage the whole time.

Skies above, she's sexy right now.

Unable – and unwilling – to help myself, I pulled her close with a wing. A blush still coloured my cheeks as I leaned in and kissed her. “I love you,” I breathed after we parted.

“I know,” She replied primly, before prancing off towards the entrance, the doors already having swung shut behind the rest of our group. I double timed it to catch up with her, and together we pushed open the doors to the pub.

Our entrance was met with a collective gasp, as if there was a pressure difference between the outside air and inside. That wasn’t the case, but when a rather full pub simultaneously ceases all activity – including the band, with one of the members being a tad slow on the uptake, letting out one last strangled note – it can tend to have that effect. Especially when you know you’re the ones who caused it.

The bar was filled with all manner of earth ponies, unicorns, and the occasional griffon. They all turned to look at the newcomers to their place of relaxation. Fade, Bernard and Crafter stood awkwardly off to one side, seemingly too stunned by the reaction to do anything, really.

“Well I didn’t think you two would literally crash the party, but there you go,” Fade waved a talon dismissively, a little less shocked than I’d given him credit for. “I’m sure it’s the scarves. Those colours just do not work. It’s almost offensive, really.” He was the only noise in the bar, but he was still essentially ignored by the other occupants. It wasn’t the scarves, and he knew it.

The bartender, an aging earth pony with a deep yellow coat – almost the colour of the drinks he served, actually – and a somewhat trimmed beard was the one to break the silence. He placed the glass he had been cleaning on the counter, the clink audible in the near-silence of the bar. When he spoke, it was with a raspy, low voice.. “You two gonna cause me any trouble?” He asked, fixing us with a tired gaze.

We both shook our heads.

He nodded, and asked another. “Your caps good?”

We nodded. After supply costs, there were some extra, enough for one night of entertainment at least. I didn’t imagine we’d be buying anything for a while, and they weren’t enough for much else – Certainly not more medical supplies.

“Then you’re as welcome in the Breach as anybody else.” He turned to the rest of the bar, his voice louder now, carrying his intent for all to hear: “Get that music playin’ again! It’s too damn quiet in here.”

His words broke the oppressive atmosphere. People turned back to their companions, their drinks, their instruments, and all the previous noise crashed around us. In this case, it was a form of acceptance – minimal as it was.

Among the last to turn away was an earth pony, close cropped mane and tail. An oddity in the wasteland, where personal grooming is a luxury… unless you regularly wore a full helmet a lot of the time. He also seemed to have a bit more meat on his bones than most of the ponies I’d seen. Not plump, rather… toned. More mass than just about any pegasus, and he wore it well. It was his eyes, though, that gave him away. I met his gaze and realized he wasn’t staring at my wings like most of the ponies I’d met. Me met my gaze with a stare of his own, an unreadable expression upon his face. All too soon he turned away, back to his half-full mug before I could get a proper read on him. I dismissed it as an oddity for the time being, taking my first uninterrupted look around the place.

I certainly wasn’t disappointed. I mean, it wasn’t the Buccaneer Blitz, but it had its own sort of flare to it. I was also thoroughly convinced (if the name of the place hadn’t been enough of a clue) that we were standing in a refurbished artillery battery. Where shells would once have been stored, large wooden casks now rested – the bartender was already back to pouring drinks from one of them. Where massive guns had once rested at the center of each of the towers, a pair of twin hearths blazed merrily away; chimneys vented the smoke up through the roof. The ammunition elevators had been repurposed as, respectively, a stage for the band and a dance floor – though the latter wasn’t exactly seeing heavy use, especially after our entrance. Oaken benches and tables were spaced all around, though most were already occupied by the time we’d set hoof in the place.

Eager to brush away the awkwardness of our entrance, we made our way to one of the tables at the far end of the establishment, away from most of the other patrons. Bernard offered to grab the first round, and I was all too eager to accept the offer if it meant that much less interaction with the locals.

It wasn't long after we had gotten ourselves settled in that, Bernard returned with a tray of drinks balanced upon his withers, sliding them onto the table with a casual ease. To Crafter, Tailwind and myself, he passed mugs of something smelling very much like apples, with the distinct tang of alcohol. For himself, he had a bottle of whisky and a tumbler with a series of ice cubes. Fade received a Sparkle~Cola, at his own request.

The first to touch her drink, Tailwind wasted no time in picking up her mug and taking a swift draft of the beverage, knocking the glass mug on the table as she finished, a wide smile on her froth-speckled lips. “It’s good! Kinda dry, but good!”

I barked out a laugh at that, “At this point, just having alcohol in the first place is enough for me.” I swirled the clear, golden liquid for a moment, before taking a swig of my own. It had a rough texture to it, not something I was used to, but as I gave it a swallow, I felt warmth spread from my belly. It slowly spread throughout my barrel, til it got all the way to my hooves and wings. I leaned back, letting out a contented sigh.

It wasn’t a safe return from an exercise. We weren’t among peers, we weren’t even welcome… but despite all the reasons not to, I felt more safe than I had in days. It was finally a chance to let off some steam, and I was determined to enjoy it.

Glancing at the others, I saw that Tailwind was in the process of cajoling our wrench-bearing companion. “C’mmon Crafter, you’ll like it!” She said as she took another substantial drink from her own mug.

Glancing down into the mug that had been placed before him, Crafter then looked around our group, seemingly trying to see the other reactions to the beverages. “Umm… I don’t know,” He replied uncertainly, taking the drink in his hooves and giving it a slow swirl before him.

Pouring himself a glass of whisky on the rocks, Bernard quipped back, “Come on, not like it’s gonna kill you. Unless you drink too much, of course.” With a rare smile directed at the younger buck, he leaned back and took a swig.

Seeing Crafter’s continued uncertainty, I raised my mug and took a long, slow sip of my drink, locking eyes with Crafter as I did. Setting the mug down, I used my tongue to lick the foam from my upper lip before commenting, “Gotta hand it to the ‘fort ponies, they make a good brew.”

Finally giving in to peer pressure, Crafter glanced back to his drink as he replied, “Well… here goes, I guess.” He took a hold of his drink, brought it to his lips and tipped back enough for a solid mouthful, swallowing before it stayed in his mouth too long. He grimaced, but seemed to catch himself as he looked back up at us and shot us a fake smile. “Mmm… good.” He said, seemingly trying to convince us as much as he was trying to convince himself.

He didn’t seem to be succeeding on either front, to be honest.

Seeing Crafter’s gallant attempt to convince us he was enjoying himself, I replied as I gave him a knowing look. “It does have a bit of an aftertaste.” Glancing over the crowd populating the rest of the building, true to form most of the people there were firmly entrenched in varying states of intoxication, but just about everyone seemed to be having a good time. I continued with a distant smile, “Though to be honest, it isn’t really the taste that one looks for when turning to alcohol.”

Leaning in towards him, Tail whispered into Crafter’s ear, just loud enough for me to hear. “It lets you forget, just for a while, anything you want to.” She said it as if it were a secret, and a flash of sadness passed her eyes, so fast I almost doubted I even saw it myself, before she was back to her usual – if buzzed – demeanor. “So just relax, and enjoy the moment.”

The buck gave some thought to that for a few moments, before taking the glass in his hooves again, and taking a large gulp, almost forgetting to swallow as he did. Once he finished coughing, he replied, “Still, the taste is less than... desirable.” He put it back on the counter, but within easy reach. Despite what he said, his business clearly wasn’t done with the beverage.

As we all started getting comfortable with our drinks, I judged that it was about time for something I’d had planned for a while. Something of a tradition, from back above the clouds. It had only been relevant the odd once or twice in all my years serving, being more of a remnant from the Pegasi-Griffon war than my own times. From my father's time. In the last week, it had gotten a lot more personal.

I cleared my throat as I got to my hooves, leaving my mug on the table. “I’ve got something I want you all to be a part of. Just don’t finish your drinks, ‘kay?”

With the sounds of slightly confused agreement fading behind me, I cantered over to the bar. I rested my hooves upon the polished wood bar top as I took a seat. The grizzled bartender glanced over. His expression was all but unreadable behind the beard, but I didn’t need any hints to tell that he was barely tolerating us in his establishment as it was. I knew my request wouldn’t help our popularity any, but some things were simply that much more important.

Without preamble, I stated, “I want a double of the best scotch you have.”

He narrowed his eyes. I could follow his train of thought pretty easily: He’d done us a solid, letting us in in the first place. That didn’t give us the right to have access to some of his best stock – likely something a scavenger had to find for him, at some point. He was debating whether letting us in was a mistake. I knew how these things work, but like I said, some things are just simply more important.

I met his gaze without flinching as I continued, “How many caps, barkeep?” He’d said our caps were good, even if I was asking for something he wouldn’t normally offer to just anypony, much less a pegasus. I was banking on his sense of integrity more than anything else.

Luckily, it paid off as he finally settled his thoughts on the matter, replying, “Twenty caps, if you’ve got enough. You’re not getting any more, though – that stuff’s damn hard to find, and with things the way they are, I doubt I’ll be getting more anytime soon.”

The price was outrageous, frankly. The mugs we’d gotten were filled pretty much to the top, and they’d cost us three apiece. Well, cost Bernard, in that case. Nonetheless, I casually dropped thirty on the counter in front of him as I replied with a courteous smile and a nod, “Thank you. I’ll only need the one.”

He shook his head at that, more bemused than anything. “Damn, isn’t that a surprise. The griffon had to buy your drinks, but you’ve still got enough for some of my very best.” As he spoke, he grabbed a rocks glass, and almost reverently pulled out a very old bottle from a shelf under the bar itself, rather than from the line of tall bottles or the casks on prominent display. Despite the obvious lack of use the bottle saw, there wasn’t a speck of dust on it. “How do you want it?” he asked, in a slightly more professional tone now that the issue of price was dismissed.

“Neat,” I replied. “And it isn’t about how much it costs. Some things just need to be done.”

He chuckled lightly at that as he uncorked the bottle, giving it a reverent sniff before delicately pouring the amber coloured liquid into the glass. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” As he finished, he recorked the bottle and stowed it safely behind the bar before passing me the drink. “Well, enjoy. Just do me the favour and don’t fuckin' down it all at once, will ya?”

I gave him a noncommittal smile as I grabbed the precious beverage with a forehoof. I didn’t particularly want to let on what I planned to do with it – I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d approve, or kick us all out.

As I headed back to the table, it would seem our interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed. I caught a couple decently hostile looks, one of them from the stallion I’d guessed to be an off-duty Ranger. I ignored them. For all I cared, they could suck wind. I’d gotten what I needed, and this wasn’t about them.

Of course, I was wrong, but I didn’t realize it at the time.

Returning to the group, I reverently placed the glass of scotch in the space on the empty side of the table – not in front of anyone, but within reach of all. I got a perplexed look from Crafter, one from Bernard that showed he might have an inkling, and Fade didn’t seem to have noticed yet.

Taking my old spot, I retrieved my mug. Tailwind leaned over, brushing a wing against my back. Her comfort, solidarity… I knew what needed to be done. I just needed to get on with it. For him. For them. For all of them.

Clearing my throat, I addressed the table.

“I know we don’t see eye to eye, on a lot of things,” I started. Crafter snapped his eyes up, curious but intent. “We have our differences, we all have our pasts. I’m sure there’s a lot there we’d rather not talk about, for all of us.” Bernard gave a taciturn nod, keeping silent as I spoke. “And while we could just drink the night away, something needs to be done first. Something overdue.” Tailwind smiled encouragingly. “I don’t know if this is a tradition down here on the surface, but I’d like you all to bear with me for a minute or so.” Finally, Fade glanced up, quirking his head to the side. Well, at least I had their attention.

“We’ve all lost something to get here, some of us more than others. Life won’t get easier unless we make it, and all too often that costs lives – futures we’ll never see, and loved ones we will always miss. I don’t mean to say that this in any way makes things better, but in this moment of peace, I think we have something of a duty to them. To remember those who have gone before, who have died for our sakes, or simply, those who have died. Sometimes death is needless, sometimes it’s random. Sometimes we’re left wondering if things wouldn’t have been better if it had been us, in their place.” I let that hang for a moment, considering my next words carefully.

“But that discredits their memory!” I started again, with equal amounts conviction and pain in my voice. “They would want us to go on. To live. To love. To be happy! There’s pain enough in this world with what has been lost. We don’t need to add to that by continuing the cycle of pain. In times like these, we need to remember them. Not as they could have been, but as they were, and as they would want us to be.” If I’d been paying more attention, I would have realized the ambient noise of the bar had dropped dramatically.

“A toast, then,” I declared at last, “To all of those who cannot raise a glass with us this night. To the lost. To the fallen. To the left behind, but never forgotten!”

“To Nosedive,” Tailwind piped up, taking her mug and gently clinking it against the glass in front of the vacant seat.

“To Flaps,” I added, “And Aileron.” I spoke no more, but I held a hoof to my midsection as I clinked my own mug against the glass – I didn’t need any further reminders. I knew what I’d lost, and that was enough.

I was almost afraid it would end there, the message lost to the winds, with too little common ground between the five of us to be brought together in something as simple as remembrance.

I was wrong.

Bernard leaned forward, picking up his own glass as he leaned forward to toast the unclaimed drink. “To Merrygold.”

I met his gaze. He hadn't mentioned his wife by name before, and I could tell he was taking this very seriously.

Hesitantly, Crafter too joined in. He gulped, but when he spoke his voice was steady. “To Spring Breeze.” He hesitated a second, before adding, “A-and Haywire.”

Clink.

A quiet descended upon the table, and all eyes were drawn to the griffon sitting off to the side, unmoving. Finally, he replied, “What, you’re waiting on me? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve lost my damn memory. I have no one to remember.”

I didn’t hesitate as I leaned forward, placing a hoof on one of his taloned hands. “Fade, don’t you see… you’ve lost just as much as any of us, if not more. You’re right, you don’t remember what you’ve lost. To me, that’s as much reason to mourn as any of us.”

“Ech, fine.” He replied, casually grabbing his Sparkle~Cola and clinking his own toast.

I’d thought that would be the end of it, when I felt a hoof on my shoulder. Turning to look, the near silence of the bar finally dawned on me. The hoof belonged to the earth pony I'd noticed when we first entered the bar. Behind him, it seemed our little table had become quite the focus of attention. From all around, a good portion of the bar had paused their conversations and were watching with interest. All had drinks held in hooves, talons or magic auras.

A dozen thoughts flew through my head. For a second, I thought we were about to be run out of the bar. If I'm honest, socking him in the face and getting the others to make a break for it was one of the options closest to the forefront of my mind. Considering how things ended up, I'm glad I held back and waited to see how things would pan out.

Wordlessly, the stallion leaned forward, taking the mug clutched in his outstretched hoof and gently touched it to the glass sitting on the table. I swear the bar was quiet enough that damn near everyone must have heard the soft clink it made.

As if it were a signal, many of the other patrons raised mugs in salute.

The Ranger must have seen my shocked look, because he gave a humourless chuckle as he glanced at the crowd that had assembled, “We’ve all lost something. Sometimes, we need a reminder that it ain’t all bad. You know?” He turned back to me, nodding his head towards the still unattended glass of scotch sitting on the table. “Finish it.”

I nodded, getting myself back on track.

I met the gaze of each of my companions at our little table, seeing nothing but expectation in every gaze. Picking up the glass of scotch, I reverently held it up for all the bar to see. The amber liquid sparkled in the firelight, as I finally found my voice. “We will remember them,” I stated solemnly.

The reply was echoed back to me in one voice, with all the tones one could imagine comprising it. Pony, griffon, mare, stallion, all as one.

“We will remember them.”

I upended the glass, spilling its precious contents upon the table. Then I placed the empty vessel upside down in the small pool its contents had made on the polished wood.

I didn’t have to tell anyone what to do. I retrieved my mug, and together the collective patrons of the bar took a long, slow swallow of their drinks.

When I lowered my mug, all eyes were drawn to the griffon guitarist of the four piece band on the opposite side of the bar. He’d strummed his talons across his guitar strings, sending clear notes resonating through the quiet bar. Taking it as a signal, the earth pony in front of the mic started to sing.

What started off quietly quickly escalated to include the rest of the band, breaking into an energetic song about the death of a pony who must have been quite beloved. It was irreverent, bawdy, silly and… perfect. It was a song about everything I’d just spoken about – a song about people dealing with grief, having their own way of showing their respect to the dead. Of celebrating life.

It worked. Energy and life bloomed in the bar, and bodies steadily trickled onto the dance floor. Booze flowed freely, and the bartender quickly found himself swept up in a night that had gotten all sorts of busy awfully fast.

I turned to the stallion who’d spoken for what seemed like the entire Wasteland just now – only to find him already gone, the space he’d inhabited occupied only by air. I was baffled for a few seconds, gratitude dying on my lips… he’d certainly helped us out, and I hadn’t even caught his name. It passed quickly – it wasn’t like I could do anything about it.

I turned back to my companions, all seated around the table in a companionable atmosphere. Seated like that, just enjoying the ability to… be, to live... I could almost forget the events that led each of us there.

Fade was the one to catch my attention, for the time being. He seemed to be in his own little world, with his newly acquired watch dangling from the silver chain he clutched in a talon. As it spun, the firelight danced across its casing, while one of its owner’s paws tapped along with the band’s tune. At some unspoken signal, Fade seemed to snap back to reality. He sat up, blinking his eyes and clearing his throat before leaning forward and placing an elbow on the tabletop. With a smug grin, he shot the rest of us a look, and a question. “So, anything like they have cloud-side? Or Stable-side, for that matter?”

Taking another sip of my drink, I replied, “Well, for the most part the ‘best stuff’ in the clouds came from the odd surface recovery team picking up something good.” I glanced thoughtfully back towards the bar, “Vodka has always been a personal favourite of mine, though I’ve heard rumours of some cloud-brewed liquor. Nasty stuff, that – supposedly it can clean the rust right off a skytank’s hull.” I gave a soft sigh, realizing that it was probably for the best that I’d never encountered it. That probably wouldn’t have ended well.

Crafter looked up at Fade when he was asked, then back to the drink. “Not that I was aware of…” he paused, before adding, “At least nothing I frequented.” He took another sip, a little less tentatively this time.

“Would figure you get most of it from down here,” Fade opined as he waved a talon at the lines of bottles behind the bar. “Won’t get more aged than two centuries!” Drumming his claws on tabletop, he leaned forward and gave us what passed for a roguish grin. “Straight is all well and good,” He began as he nodded towards the mugs we were drinking from, “But you really don’t get to experience the finest of the Wastes until you’ve had one of its creations. Mix a few things together, and viola!” Sitting back against the chair’s backrest, he shrugged and added, “Though they do get you in the head a lot harder than the straight stuff. Of course if you’re alright with sharing my mind for a while then go for it.”

Recognizing a challenge when I saw it, I locked eyes with the griffon, a wide grin spread across my muzzle. I drained the rest of my mug before replying, “Alright, Fade. I’m willing to see what the Wasteland has to offer.” Extricating myself from the chair and table, I gave him an expectant look as I added, “I’ll take whatever you suggest.”

Raising an eyebrow, Fade sat back and replied, “Ohoh, feisty are we? Don’t feel that you’ve got to be tough just to impress the missus.” Despite what he said, he still pushed himself from the seat and started heading for the bar.

I followed, but not before giving Tailwind a confident wink. She returned it, before shuffling closer to Crafter and striking up a conversation with the quiet buck. “So Crafter, what do you think of this? The Fort, I mean. All these ponies, finding ways to stay alive on the surface…” Her voice faded away as we departed, their conversation lost in the sheer volume of the crowd.

Sticking behind Fade, we only had to gently push past a few patrons before we found ourselves back at the bar. The bartender finished pouring a drink for another customer, then turned to us. He gave me a sidelong glance. “Not the worst use of my scotch I’ve seen, and I must say you brought me some renewed business for what was promising to be a mediocre night. ‘Lotta people gonna be falling asleep on tables tonight thanks to you.” He paused a second, “But I meant it, you aren’t getting another. On that note, what can I get for you two?” He glanced from Fade to myself.

“My companion here wants to test her mettle so I figured something closer to home; a Lightning Strike, if you’d be so kind.” Fade hooked a thumb in my direction as he spoke, giving the buck a nod of acknowledgement. He gave an affirmative grunt, before turning to mix the drink. I saw vodka going into it, as well as some sort of fruity-coloured mix. Beyond that, I was distracted as Fade turned to whisper to me, “Eh, he might be nipping into a bit of the stuff himself.”

Whatever was being made, it was clearly a complicated process. I fluttered my wings to take a seat at one of the bar-side stools. “A ‘Lightning Strike,’ hmm? Rather lofty name.” I replied, turning the conversation to the drink itself. “Though I can’t help but notice you aren’t really drinking anything aside from that Sparkle~cola. Any particular reason for that?”

Being as large in stature as he was, he chose to forego the stool and rather rest on his haunches beside me. Casting a glance at the progress the bartender was making on the drink, it was apparently not fast enough for him to avoid the question. With a sigh, he turned to focus on me. “There’s a number of reasons but the simplest is this,” He explained, “Most drink to forget. When you’ve lost all the good and the bad, your past as a whole, there’s not a lot more you want to lose. Even if it isn’t always pleasant, it’s better than waking up with another blank spot.” Giving another small shrug, he rolled his neck to work out a kink, before adding, “Plus, the stuff is expensive. After what I learned from Cheesequake I’ll bet at least some of what they’re selling here I brought them, maybe even that scotch you so liberally…” He glanced at me. I know he wanted to say ‘wasted,’ but I appreciated that he didn’t. “...applied to the table. Easier to make caps off of than get hooked. Healthier, too.”

I gave a humourless chuckle, his logic did make sense to me after all. I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I sympathize,” I replied, looking down at my hooves. “But I’ve got my own…” I fidgeted with my hooves, uncertain. Ultimately, I decided to tell him. “Well, I fucked up. I got a good friend killed, in exchange for Tailwind’s and my own life. I don’t know what I could have done differently, but I’ll take a bit of a self destructive habit in exchange for a night in which I’m not seeing him whenever I close my eyes.” I sighed, “And the bastard of it all is that, knowing him, I don’t think he even blames me for it, wherever he is. I deserve to be blamed, but… that just wasn’t how he was, you know?”

Fade said nothing, though he did open his beak as if to respond, before closing it again. Thankfully, what the bartender lacked in speed, he made up for with impeccable timing, sliding the mixed drink in front of me before moving on to help other customers off on the far side of the bar. I gave it an appraising look; It was blue, oddly. I missed a lot of what he’d put into it, but I coulda sworn I saw little tiny bits of particulate matter in there, floating around amidst the ice cubes.

“You know it’s not too late to back out of this, right? It’s quite… potent.” Fade commented.

With a cocky smile, I replied monosyllabically: “Nope!’ as I grabbed the drink and took a rather substantial swig of the peculiar beverage. It might not have been the best idea with something so new, but I saw it as a challenge from him… I basically had to, at that point. It was fruity, with what I would almost describe as… tangy, maybe even going so far as to use the word electric. I could see where it got the name, at any rate. Despite all that, there was practically no trace of the alcohol hidden within. A dangerous combination. The effects, immediate as they were, hit me with all the subtlety of a snow wolf – an allusion I have the misfortune to say I’m familiar with by now. I’d had a drink in me at the time, but this was something else entirely. I felt lighter on my hooves, and the room seemed to have slowed down. The perspiration already beading on my glass, somepony accidentally knocking their drink over across the room from us, almost in slow motion. It occurred to the analytical part of my brain that whatever I’d just drank wasn’t time dilation, but rather my perception being altered, and my reaction time was speeding up to match. That, and whatever else was in the drink was speeding up my metabolism like nopony’s business.

I’d always been one to drink, but that was categorically different. Something chemical. But with the mindset I was in… I didn’t even care. Glancing up at Fade, I commented breathlessly, “Clouds and skies Fade, this is something else.” I took another drink, slightly more conservatively this time – I wanted to make this one last.

Seeing my… enthusiasm for the drink, he grimaced, watching me with a careful eye as he seemed to be gauging the effects. I don’t know what he decided, but after I took the second sip he seemed to relax a bit. He inclined his head as he replied, “Yes, it certainly is. A lot in there your kind would never consume for recreation.”

Coming rapidly to the conclusion that it was gonna be necessary to test out the sensory high I was experiencing, I got to my hooves. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in finding out if dancing was among your repertoire of skills from before your injury, do you?” I asked, beckoned Fade with a wing towards the dance floor. He wasn’t drinking, so I wasn’t really expecting much… but on the other hoof, the invitation was also a gateway to… other activities. Tailwind had certainly brought up that she was open minded enough to experiment.

He gave me a sidelong, unamused gaze before glancing at the dance floor. He sighed. “No, Miss, I can’t say I would be terribly interested,’ He replied with a shake of his head, leaning back against the countertop. Waving a talon towards Tailwind and the others, he continued, “That’s an activity for you’n the missus and, even if I did know how before, I don’t now.” Either he hadn’t caught the implied meaning of my invitation, or he really didn’t care. Either way, I decided to give up on his account – there would be easier prey throughout the night, and if he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to.

Unperturbed, I shot him an almost petulant frown before replying, “Fiiiiine, but don’t come crying to me when you see how much fun we’ll be having.” I turned with a swish of my tail, heading back towards the table. Tailwind was in the middle of explaining something to Crafter, having obviously scooted closer to him in the interim. She was making some rather grand gestures, with a mostly full mug clutched in a hoof.

“...The Ministry of Awesome built those, and they built them to last… officially, the only thing they really did during the war.” She brought the mug to her mouth, taking a drink before continuing, “I don’t think the ‘zebs knew what exactly they were for, but they hit a bunch of them with balefire bombs anyways. Boom!” She suddenly made a wide, sweeping motion with her hooves to emphasize the apparent effects of a direct balefire bomb hit. In the process, some of her drink splashed all the way over to where Bernard was sitting, still nursing his drink. Tailwind didn’t seem to notice, intent on both her drink, and Crafter at the time. “But you know what, they’re still there. Not even a scratch.’ Raising a hoof to her chin, she commented, “Though if the surface ever figured out a way to damage ‘em, that would probably lead to a rather heavy-hoofed response from the Enclave.”

Having been idly listening, Bernard had been forced to suddenly dodge the spray of drink from Tailwind’s direction. “I’d rather not wear the drinks if at all possible, Tail.” He said with a roll of his eyes. I figured he could see what was happening between Tailwind and Crafter. Hell, he probably realized a lot sooner than the poor buck.

Having evidently forgotten Bernard’s continued existence, Tailwind seemed spooked by him speaking up, giving a slight jump even closer to Crafter. She also seemed perfectly content with that, essentially rubbing cutie marks at that point. Staying firmly where she was, she apologized as she put on a winning smile, “Sorry Bernard, won’t happen again.”

In lieu of a response, Bernard just gave her a long, ‘I know what you did there’ look after her ‘accidental’ collision with Crafter. Seeing my approach, he leaned back, presumably holding off to see how the situation would play out before him.

Timing my arrival just right, I arrived all but unnoticed behind the two, throwing my hooves around the shoulders of both Crafter and Tailwind, something that was incredibly easy given their proximity. “And what have you two been up to, hmm?” I teased, mock suspicion in my tone but a devilish smile written upon my face.

Crafter had still been recovering from Tailwind’s invasion of personal space when I exacerbated the problem, and he gave me a surprised, and slightly defensive look. “Oh, uh… we were just discussing your ponies' home is all…”

For her part, Tail seemed legitimately surprised by my appearance. Granted, I don’t normally do that kind of thing, so a little suspicion wasn’t unwarranted.

Just the drink, I suppose…

“Well,” I said without adjusting my position between them at all, “I can’t help but think conversation can wait. We’re here to have fun!” Putting on a big smile, I looked Crafter in the eye, pretty much at intimate distance as I asked, “But while we’re on the topic of where we came from… Tell me Crafter, did you ever dance in that Stable of yours?”

He attempted to lean back a little, and avoided making eye contact. “Uh, well yeah, occasionally we danced at some sort of special occasion, I guess…” He replied uneasily.

“Well, then you already know the steps,” I glanced at his nearly empty mug, “And you’ve got the preparation down. C’mmon Crafter, lets go have some fun!” Tailwind nodded along, in hearty agreement.

Turning his head away, he replied, “Ahh, well no thanks, I’m not really in the mood…”

We might have been a little too forward, so I decided to tone it back a bit, dropping back to having all four hooves on the ground. Tailwind continued for me, “Oh, come on Crafter. You never know when we’ll get another chance like this…” She trailed off, giving him her most adorable set of sad eyes. I could swear I saw a hint of mistiness in those deep green eyes of hers.

Giving the dance floor a look, then back to Tailwind and I, Crafter gave a soft sigh. “Ugh,” he commented, turning and draining the remainder of his mug. “I’ll guess I’ll give ‘er a whirl.”

With a cheer, I took another drink of the Wasteland’s Most Interesting Beverage before setting it down. Then, we headed over to the dance floor, falling in behind Crafter. Tail smiled, the misty eyes turned off the instant Crafter agreed. As we all departed, Fade settled back into his seat beside Bernard. “Here we go…” the older stallion muttered.

As we arrived, Tail and I took the lead, breaking off individually for now. I threw myself into dancing like nopony was watching. Well, actually, dancing as if there were exactly two ponies watching. Crafter was hesitant, I decided to let myself simply be an example, moving to the beat and swaying my flank like I hadn’t done… probably since Tailwind and I joined the military.

It felt different, though. The only variable I could think of was whatever Fade had challenged me to drink, but… there was a feeling of speed, of reaction time, of seeing the ponies moving about me as if they were moving through a thick murk while I was free to move as I pleased. It was, in a word, intoxicating. I could dance like I’d never danced before, and nopony could stop me!

As we danced, I kept tabs on Crafter every now and then. He started off awkwardly, but I think our example managed to get him to loosen up soon enough. By the third song, he was really starting to move his flank. I gradually maneuvered my way back towards him as I called out over the music, “So does this beat sitting and talking, Crafter?”

He nodded, still moving to the beat. “I’d say it’s not too bad. Reminds me a little bit of those times back home when we would dance.” I watched him carefully, then. He’d brought up the Stable again, just as it felt like we were breaking through to him. Unexpectedly, it didn’t seem to faze him this time. He kept dancing, like it had never happened.

I had to wonder if that particular wound might just be starting to heal… just a little.

I was eager to move on from that topic, and my mind clicked onto what was, for me, the next most logical thing…

“So you danced back in the Stable… what else did you do for fun?” I asked, still moving to the music, but now I was deliberately giving Crafter a little more of a… show. A little extra sway, a few strategic flicks of the tail… you know how it goes.

Problem was, he most certainly didn’t catch the hint.

“Well,” He replied, as his eyes tracked back and forth with the sway of my hips, “We didn’t really do too much for fun. I mostly just worked and hung out with… my friends.” He glanced down. “I also enjoyed just tinkering around with things.” He glanced back up, and threw his body into something approaching a spin, mostly in tune with the music. “How about you up there, what’d you do for fun?” He asked.

I saw the opportunity, and went for it. “For fun? Well, lots of things.” I replied, shimmying up next to him. “We’d race, play cloudball… play pranks on some of the younger troopers… heh, some of the NCO’s, if we thought we could get away with it.” There were some good memories there. I sighed, as my mind began to wander before I brought it back on track. “But… Tailwind and I have been together for a while now, and every now and then,” I flicked my tail up, brushing lightly against the base of his chin as I slowly circled around him, almost a predatory motion. “We find somepony we both like…” I licked my lips, tasting a little of the Lighting Strike lingering there. I fixed him with the sexiest gaze I could muster, “And we give him a night he’ll never forget.”

Crafter took a second to let that sink in, backing off and glancing around. “Uhh,” He started awkwardly, “Thanks, but no thanks?”

Having maneuvered herself in behind Crafter, Tailwind replied innocently, “We aren’t going to force you to do something you don’t want to, but we thought you’d like it. You seemed rather down lately, and we thought we might be able to help…” She trailed off, idly flicking her tail across Crafter’s cutie mark.

Crafter continued backing off, dodging her tail as he did. He seemed to be really uncomfortable with the direction we’d taken. “No, I’ll be alright. I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” He said, as he glanced around for an exit.

I was kinda worried for him. I had thought he’d gotten over… Her more than he had, and what we were doing was causing a lot of friction there. I glanced over at Tailwind – Somepony needed to bring it up… it just couldn’t be me. She caught my gaze and nodded.

Turning back to the retreating form of Crafter, she commented just loud enough to be heard over the music, her tone completely different from before. “Crafter, if this is about Her… you have to come to terms with it in your own way.” She raised a forehoof to her breast, “It hurts too much to hold on to that kind of pain.”

He nodded, but didn’t reply before he scooted between a pair of ponies and escaped out the far side of the dance floor.

We’d misjudged that, rather spectacularly too. Defeated, for now, Tailwind and I slunk back to the table. For my part, I wore a mildly dazed expression. I mean, hey – that totally should have worked. As we sat down, Bernard raised a questioning eyebrow.

“So we both got shot down by Crafter,” Tailwind piped up for the benefit of the other two.

“I think I need something to put out these flames,” I grumbled as I grabbed my neglected drink and took a swig.

Tailwind just glared back at me, unimpressed. Still, she retrieved her own mug and took a drink.

Fade shrugged off our collective disappointment. “Eh, there’s greater things you could have lost. Not to mention if you had 'won' it would have been a tad… sordid. Or sad. Both.” Having watched as I reacquainted myself with my drink, he added with a grin, “So I see you’re liking the groundside swill. Certainly gets the fuzzies out, doesn’t it? Though I can’t help but wonder how much your… cloud sheltered little form can take.”

“Cloud sheltered?!” I gasped, seeing the proverbial horseshoe being thrown down. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Fade.” I replied. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tailwind covering her eyes with both of her hooves, slowly shaking her head.

I grabbed the drink (which was still more than half-full. In hindsight, that part probably should have registered a tad more than it did) with both forehooves, draining the remainder in a single long swig, a smug look of satisfaction written all over my face.

What could possibly go wrong, right?

A splitting headache is the next thing I can remember. That, and a full-body soreness that no amount of tossing and turning in the bed I found myself in could assuage. I blinked my eyes open, only to shut them once more as the first shafts of half-light penetrated the window. Even that was too bright for my sensitive eyes.

I heard a soft giggle from off to my side, and felt hooves softly massaging my back. Tailwind's silky voice whispered in my ear, "Look who's the heavy sleeper now, Chief."

My reply was virtually unintelligible, sort of a nonverbal groan of discomfort as I closed my eyes and leaned into her. As I abandoned my sight for the time being, I hazarded a sniff at the morning air and found it... oddly neutral. In fact, all I was greeted with was the faint smell of, well... Tailwind and I, as well as the ever present, lingering smell of old that seemed to permeate just about every building we'd encountered.

Considering that I had expected a mixture of sweat, booze breath, and who knows what else from last night... it was quite the improvement. We must have found a shower at some point during the night.

...Which meant that at some point we had really needed a shower if it became a priority while we were still drunk.

Also, once I had the time to dwell on some of the particular aches of the morning, there were a few very specific sore spots. Putting two and two together, my eyes shot open in realization. "Tail, did we...? Was it someone we know? Can I...?"

She gave a soft sigh, moving on from massaging to gently brushing my mane. She replied to my barrage of questions with a calm, understanding tone. "Yes, no, and yes, you most certainly can."

"Oh." I replied, relaxing quite a bit at the update, situating myself such that it would be easier for the mare behind me to reach my mane. "Wish I could remember."

Her hoof paused, and I could feel her stiffen a little. I couldn't see her expression, but my first thought was... anger? When she did reply, it was in a quiet voice. "No, you don't. It was fun and all, but… " She sighed, "I just worry about you..."

I gave a soft sigh of my own. There was more to that, but she was being gentle. "It won't happen again," I replied, looking up to meet her gaze. "Not like that, at least. Next time - if there is a next time - I promise we'll make it mean something."

She smiled. A soft smile, one that said she knew I was being honest... but wasn't entirely sure if I could follow through on the promise.

But that was okay – I wasn't exactly sure if could follow through, either.

Moving on from my mane, she gently ran her hooves along one of my wings, sending a delightful tingling feeling of pleasure up my spine. I unfolded the wing and its twin, splaying myself spread-eagle upon the mattress. I closed my eyes, reveling in her gentle ministrations.

After a few minutes like that, I felt her soft lips wrap themselves around the series of feathers at the far point of my wing. Gently, she started to smooth down the fletching there, removing any damaged shafts and letting them slowly fall to the mattress. She moved quickly, but not so fast that I couldn't enjoy the pleasant feeling of being preened. I might have let out a few soft moans of unconscious pleasure, right as she got to the last, downey little feathers right near the joint, and placed a soft kiss on the wing itself before shuffling over to start my other wing.

Which is naturally the point at which Crafter chose to open the door to our room.

He stepped into the room with his eyes downcast, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else right then. Without being sure what had made him come in, and realizing there might definitely be some… repercussions to our behavior the night before, I chose to let him be the one to initiate conversation. He certainly took his time, and when he did speak up it was hesitant, uncertain. “So… does this change anything? What happened last night?”

I sighed softly. “No, it doesn’t. Not for our part, anyways. We didn’t mean to push you, or to hurt you… But I think we’d both understand if you wanted to find your own way after that.” I glanced down, slightly abashed.

“‘My own way?’ You’re the only ponies I know out here!” He replied, almost… scared, I’d say, of what I’d just suggested. I hadn't thought about it that way, not as much as I should have.

“Okay, I guess that was a bit extreme,” I replied, “I just should have known better than to put you into that position.”

"You were drunk," He replied, the very picture of innocence. "I know you two don't really feel that way, and that's why I declined. So don't worry about it."

I don't know how I would have replied to that. He's just so innocent, it seemed like it would make his head spin if I'd told him we'd planned to do exactly what we did before a drop of alcohol had passed either of our lips. Whatever I might have said, however, was overruled by Tailwind deciding to play her own part in the conversation – namely, by increasing the pressure of her lips on my wing as she ran her smooth tongue across the shafts.

For a pegasus, our wings are essentially our whole world – I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if unicorns felt the same way about their horns. It should go without saying that a level of trust would have to be held with another pony to even think of letting them care for our wings – or preen them, in other words. Typically, any pegasus would consider the act itself to be, to an extent, a very intimate action. A lovers' activity, or the very best of friends. That didn't really click for Crafter, not at first. But once Tailwind really got to work on my wing, he took the hint pretty quickly once the first unconscious moans of approval came from me.

A look of horrified realization dawned on him, and he stumbled backwards a pace. "I, um... just remembered I had something to do," he stammered, looking anywhere but at us.

Tailwind flashed out a wing, shielding her mouth from view, but leaving her eyes to twinkle with mischief as she renewed the movements of her tongue against my plumage. As much as I didn't want to at the time, she drew more instinctive little moans from me as she worked her magic.

Crafter gave one final "Eep!" Before I heard the door to our room close with maybe a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

With our bystander out of our manes, I decided to up the ante on her idle teasing. I wrapped the wing Tail was just finishing up on around her and used it to roll us both over until I was on top of our little mare pile. She let out a noise of irritation at that – she hadn't finished my second wing – but leaned into her and pressed my lips to hers.

Her tongue wasn't unoccupied for long.

The remainder of today was uneventful, which was probably for the best. We collected the supplies from the Rangers – they even gave us an invoice, of all things. Not a single item was missing or out of place. I was kind of impressed.

Next, we headed to the barding merchant for another pleasant surprise – he'd finished our barding with time to spare on his estimate. My own barding was now adorned with a brownish-grey set of furs, visible at the collar and at the ends of the legs – a cape was made from the same material, and clasped around the neck. Tailwind's had near-identical treatment, with the exception that her furs were a more delicate off-white colour. I leapt at the sight, and it took me all of seconds to buckle on my newly refurbished garment. To my delight, I found that the capes had been cut to accommodate our wings quite nicely – they could cover them entirely, or with the right shifting would fold nicely to allow free range of wing movement. Freshly equipped, we said our goodbyes.

Finally, I worked my way around the battlesaddle until I found a way to get it to mount my energy pistol – after selling the SMG, it was now my only remaining weapon. It mounted without issue, though my old standby felt... lighter than I remembered. Maybe a little less substantial of a weapon, after using the shotguns and the automatic.

No matter. I finally have a decent ammo supply for a weapon, and that's what matters right now.

After that... well, we ate, but otherwise we were in an interesting position: we had nothing left to do, we were all resupplied and good to go... but we didn't have enough time to reach a safe haven before the sun set. We had a dismal hoof-full of caps, and no desire to drink anyways – we'd have to be sharp for the trip.

Ultimately, it was Tailwind's suggestion that stuck with me: To write it out, what we've gone through in the past little over a week. She said it might help put some perspective on things. I don't know about that, but it seemed like a nice way to end our quasi-vacation from the life-or-death of the frozen wastes. To end on a reflective note.

At any rate, before dinnertime had even rolled around, I had a lit candle, a nice hot drink, and Tailwind was curled up beside me. I held a pen in my mouth and delicately began to write the first words of our story in an old notebook I found jammed into the very bottom of my saddlebags.

Skies above, were those really the last notes I took in this old notebook...?

...And so it was that all of this started, and now here we are. I don’t know who you are, oh reader, but I feel like we’ve… shared something, I suppose. The start of a journey I never planned to undergo, with people I never would have imagined I’d be making it with... Well, except for Tailwind. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far without her.

She’s so cute when she sleeps… she’s got this higher-pitched little snore she sometimes makes, when she's sleeping really soundly. I've never told her, because I always thought it might make her stop. She fell asleep minutes after my pen touched paper, and she's been making that noise ever since. It’s done me a world of good to just… feel her there, leaning against me.

It’s been a good couple days – I think we all needed them, for various reasons. To rest. To recover. To reconnect.

To reload.

Heh, I suppose that last one’s a little dark. I could have said ‘resupply’... but it’s accurate.

I have no illusions about what the dawn will bring. Tomorrow we’re heading into Red Eye territory in search of a filly only one of our party has ever met. It’s a long shot on a target we can’t even see… but then again, I’d be lying if I said that was my only reason for going west. For that matter, I’d be a fool if I assumed for a second that Fade was with us out of the goodness of his heart. Crafter doesn’t know where he stands, and Bernard’s only goal has been quite clear… I do wonder how far he’d go to see it realized. I hope I don’t have to find out.

I’ve had my own reasons to keep going ever since I saw the map the Rangers provided, when I saw where we’re headed. According to Cheesequake, the ‘Serpent’ headed out on the old road due west. The ‘Red Line’ as the locals call it is less than a day in that direction, and not far beyond, a hub of Red military presence based in a place called “Saltpeet Quarry.” But just on the other side of the line, I saw this little town. Just a point on the map, you could almost miss it if it wasn’t so obvious that it was the only real place to rest within a day’s travel from Neighson:

Trotwynd.

Oh yes, I have my own reasons for sticking by Bernard’s side.

Does that make me a bad pony? I don’t know. I do legitimately want to help, but… that isn’t all I want. My father died there, and I need to find out why. Just maybe I’ll find out why we were sent here, too. With how tight-lipped Cheesequake was when I asked, something happened there. Something big, and I feel obligated to find out why it needed to be covered up by both the Enclave and the Rangers.

At any rate, I suppose I should get some sleep. This candle’s burning low, and we’ve got a big day ahead of us. No sleeping in, tomorrow.

We head out at dawn.

Author's Notes:

End book one.

So... that took a lot longer than I planned. In many ways. I must have promised release dates to about three different people specifically, and a whole group in general... I apologize for that. So we've finally gotten to this point, a bit of a... plateau, before the rollercoaster hits the next drop. I think it's a good time to do some other things I've been meaning to do. Over the next while, there will be a bit of a delay (not a hiatus - certainly not), but I want to write some other things, I have some ideas. That, as well as a more extended FS canon sidestory (two of them, actually) that I cannot tell from Snap's perspective.

Big thanks to all my editors - Belmor, Plain, PersonalGamer, Jetwave and CptDoel. Oh boy, this one was a bit of a mess of edits, all over the place. Thankfully, there isn't anything like this number of scenes to deal with for a good long while. They found a lot of time in some very busy schedules to work on this, and I'm deeply grateful for it.

For those who don't know, myself along with Tofu (Outlaw), Doctor Ham (Wasteland Economics), Stonershy and Pacce (Anywhere But Here) will be at Everfree Northwest 2015 coming up May 29-31st in Seattle. If you find yourself in that area, we have a panel on Sunday, right near the end of the day. We'd love to see you there! Somber also has a panel - I don't know too much about that one, but it's on the Saturday.

In the meantime, for those of you who are interested in how Frozen Skies gets written, keep an eye on my blog (it'll be my first blog post - those will also increase, now that we've gotten to this point in the story). There will be something of a Q&A, but if you aren't there the time of, I'll still try and make sure to reply to any questions that get posted.

Until then, have a good one, guys!