I hated my CDF uniform. The black fabric did not go well with my blue eyes, the bowtie was impossible to get right on my own, and it was itchy. As if on cue, I felt the urge to scratch my back leg. An urge I was happy to satisfy.

“Really, Symphony? If you can’t handle an itchy uniform how can we trust you to protect our borders?”

I scoffed as Lyra sauntered beside me. My job was as an entertainer, not as a soldier. The uniform was more of a formality than as actual barding.

Lyra rubbed her tail against my flank, and kissed me on the cheek. “Besides, I don’t want you to crinkle it. I’ve always had a thing for stallions in uniform.”

I loved my CDF uniform. I stood up a little straighter, and made no efforts to conceal the fact that I was checking her out. Lyra wore a striking red dress, with streaks of gold and green around her shoulders; she also had a light orange shawl that trailed behind her as she passed. She twirled once, and I noticed she was wearing an emerald pendant. Finally, the lone golden hoop earring she received from her mother dangled from her ear. This was exactly what she had worn on the day we met on the streets of Haven.

“How do I look?” she asked with a flutter of her eyes.

“Like a goddess,” I replied. Blasphemous, I know, but I could not think of anything else in the moment. Now that I thought about it, the words perfect and divine came to mind. Oh, well. I doubted the Holy Mother would be too angry with my choice of words.

Lyra smirked, and tapped me on the nose. “Don’t let ‘Chestra hear you saying things like that. She’ll have you arrested for blasphemy.”

I chuckled, and tapped her nose as well. “Believe me, Lyra, I am sure she considered it on our wedding.”

“She’s not the only one. If you ask me, it should be illegal for anypony to marry my sister.”

I rolled my eyes at the sound of Carbine’s voice. Lyra’s younger brother trotted down the stairs. His usually coarse mane had been groomed, for once, and he was wearing one of my tuxedos. Every few steps I saw him grimace and scratch a different part of his body. I could empathize.

Lyra wrapped a hoof around her brother’s shoulder when he reached the bottom of the stairs, and grinned. “Aww, you look so cute when you’re dressed up.”

“I do not!” he protested with a stomp of his hoof.

“Sure you do. Now just hold still for a second.” She lifted his chin with a hoof, and used another to pat down his mane. “You need to look more than just cute for tonight.”

Carbine groaned, but let his sister work her magic. Then he saw me chuckling. He stomped his hoof again, and pointed at me. “Just wait till your sister gets here. Then we’ll see how sh—Ow!”

Lyra thumped him on the head. “I told you not to move. There’s some dandruff in your hair I need to get out, and your bowtie is slightly off.” She sighed affectionately, as she looked back at me. “I don’t know what it is about stallions and bowties.”

Me neither. They were so simple, yet I could never get mine right. Even now it looked crooked. I wanted to fix it, but I knew Lyra would thump me too if I ruined her hard work. Maybe if I was subtle enough…

“Lyra!” Carbine waved his hoof at me. “He’s fixing his bowtie. Now it’s all crooked.”

Lyra thumped him again, but did turn around just in time to see my hoof ever so slightly touching my bowtie. Whoops.

The knocking on the door saved me from vicious retaliation. Lyra narrowed her eyes at me, and threateningly wagged her hoof. I blew her a kiss as I trotted into the living room, and towards the front door. Well, Symphony, you did it. Both of the girls promised not to kill the other, and Carbine will have a date to keep him company. This was going to be a lovely evening, and every memory would be cherished for the rest of my days.

I opened the door, and was greeted by the sight of Orchestra and Joab snogging. I felt a correction was in order. Every memory except that one, would be cherished. “Really, you two? You just knocked, not a minute ago. Could you not go a few seconds without sucking face?” A stupid phrase, but one I felt adequately expressed my disgust. At least, I said it with disgust.

The two separated, and stared at me with differing expressions. Joab’s ears fell, and he gave me an embarrassed smile. ‘Chestra just glared at me. “Get off your high griffon, Symphony. How many times have I had to watch you and Lyra, as you put it, ‘suck face?’”

Very good point, well made. I stepped aside, bowed, and gestured to the inside of my house. "Lieutenant Joab, Captain 'Chestra." She frowned, and her glare intensified at me using her pet name. "Welcome to my humble abode."

The two stepped inside, their tails entwined, and their uniforms glowing faintly in the candlelight. I heard Joab gasp, and Orchestra continued nodding to herself. “This is a nice place, little brother. You and your we—wife, have done well for yourselves.” She abruptly stopped walking, causing Joab to trip. I only barely resisted the urge to chuckle. She released her tail from his, and approached my desk. She quickly sifted through the quills and parchment, eventually picking up a picture frame. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do,” I helped Joab to his hooves. I did not have to look to see what picture she was talking about. Orchestra may have been a higher rank, but she and I enlisted in the CDF together. That picture was of our unit after we graduated basic. Joab, Starfall, Uziel, and even Sergeant Sombra had decided to take it with us. I may have lost touch with most of them, but they were a family to Orchestra and me for a time. And I never took family for granted.

“Is that our unit photo?” Joab snatched it away from Orchestra with his magic. He instantly frowned when he saw it. “I looked like a jackass back then.”

“Who says you stopped?” I chuckled.

“You mouthy little shit,” he replied with a cocksure grin. He arched his back to pounce, but was quickly thumped on the head.

“We’re guests here, Joab.” Orchestra grasped the picture with her mouth, and returned it to the desk. “And it’s rude for a guest to pounce on their host.” I would have gloated, but my sister quickly rounded on me. “And you…-’ve got some dust on you.” With a flick of her tail, Orchestra was wiping the dust off my shoulders. “Stallions. Is it really too much to ask for you to care about your appearance?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Lyra stepped into the living room, with Carbine trailing behind her. “Welcome to our home,” she said with a curtsey.

“Hey, where’s my date?” Carbine asked.

Lyra grimaced, and violently nudged his shoulder. He winced as he bowed, and I was relatively certain I heard him muttering under his breath.
A large, to the point of feeling forced, smile appeared on my wife’s face. “Dinner will be ready in just a few moments. I’m sure Symphony can show you to the table.”

Could I? Could I really? It was such a monumental task I was not sure if I was up to it. Walking to the table was a challenge all on its own, but showing it to my sister and brother-in-law? How could Lyra impose such a challenge on me?

“Well, yeah. It’s not like it’s hard.” Carbine said with a roll of his eyes.

And there went the joke. Great job pointing out the obvious, Carbine. I swore, if he were in the CDF he would have been a captain.

Orchestra bowed to my wife, and wore an equally forced smile. “Thank you so much, Lyra, for inviting Joab and I into your home. You have no idea how surprised I was to receive your invitation.”

I could imagine. I had seen Lyra’s reaction when I asked her permission. I banished myself to the couch that night. It seemed safer than the bed.

“And that’s the problem.” Lyra threw her hooves around Orchestra, and hugged her. “You’re family, Orchestra. It should never come as a surprise that Symphony and I want to see you.”

I noticed Orchestra’s hooves twitching, and her tail resting on her kirpan’s handle. I loved my sister, but I was legitimately afraid of her in that moment. I was about to break up the hug when the unexpected happened. Orchestra returned it. My sister was willingly touching a non-crystal pony? Well, I was unaware Tartarus had frozen over. Maybe now snowballs could actually stand a chance.

“You’re right, Lyra. You’re a part of my family now. My sister.”

To my surprise, again, Orchestra sounded somewhat genuine. There was still noticeable strain in her voice, and I noticed her tail never left the kirpan handle. But this was a remarkable improvement over their last encounter; I could still see the stitches in Orchestra’s temple.

Joab leaned towards me, and whispered, “Who are these mares, and what have they done with our wives?”

“Hopefully made better cooks out of them.”

The entire house fell completely silent as I uttered that. Of course it did. Tartarus may have frozen over, but I had a feeling the couch would be a warm place to spend the night. Lyra and Orchestra separated, with both mares smiling at me. The kind of smiles I had only before seen in my nightmares.

Lyra trotted towards the kitchen, passing Joab and I on our way. “As I said, dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Hopefully by then I’ll have picked up a few cooking tips. I want to prepare a special dish for my hubby.”

I dared not wonder what “special dish” was a euphemism for.

“So… where’s my date?” Carbine asked.

Joab face-hoofed. “Oh, right. Sorry we forgot to let you know ahead of time. Starfall had to cancel. Her kid’s in the hospital.”

I gasped. “Absalom’s in the hospital? What happened? Is he okay?”

Joab nodded. “Yeah, yeah. The kid’s fine. Just a broken leg, and a clipped wing. Apparently he tried to copy something out of the Flash! comics Starfall reads to him.” He rolled his eyes. “Kids these days, right?”

Speaking of kids. Carbine threw his head back, and groaned like a small child. “And I even got dressed up!”

Joab and Orchestra shared a look. I knew it well. It was the same look Lyra and I shared when we took Carbine in public. “If it’s any consolation,” Joab began, “You look… nice. Doesn’t he, dear?” He added with a not very subtle nudge to my sister.

She glared at him, as she rubbed her shoulder. “Yes, very nice indeed,” she said without looking at Carbine.

“But she’s not even gonna see it!” The maroon moron accentuated his displeasure by stomping his hoof. Again, like a small child. The force of the stomp knocked his tie askew, causing Carbine’s face to scrunch up. He muttered to himself, as he tried to fix it. “Stupid motherfucking useless motherfucking tie. Can’t get damn motherfucker right.”

Quite the vocabulary he had there. Maybe next time he would remember to use the word "the."

“Are you quite through, Carbine?” He was still fiddling with his bowtie, but seemed to have stopped his tantrum. “Then I will happily show you to your seats.”

The seating arrangements had been planned in advance. Orchestra and I would sit next to each other, while our significant others would sit across from us. Carbine was situated next to Lyra, while Starfall’s empty seat was next to me. Lyra had only taken a few minutes to arrive with our dinner, a platter of gourmet pancakes. Mine had been delicious, which honestly scared me. If Lyra had intended on making me suffer from food poisoning, then she would have to make the food delicious. Otherwise I would not have eaten much. From the way she smirked at me, I feared I was correct. Clever girl.

Her smirk was the last thing I saw before the light went out. Odd, seeing as our house was lit by candles.

“The fuck just happened?!” Carbine quickly received a thump from his sister. “What was that for?”

“I don’t want you swearing at the table. It’s rude. Symphy?” I hated it when Lyra called me that. “Would you be a gem, and go light the candles?”

“Yes, dear.” I needed to get this done as fast as possible. I had been in the process of pouring syrup over my third pancake when the lights went out. I was still hungry, and I refused to eat a pancake without syrup.

“That won’t be necessary, Lyra,” Orchestra stated, with a hint of smugness in her voice.

Just then, there was a flash of light. I closed my eyes and shielded them with my hooves, but they were still stung by the brilliance of the light. I should have questioned why there was such a bright light in my house, but all I wondered was when I would be able to open my eyes.

“It’s okay, Symphony.” I felt a pair of hooves move mine from my face. “You can open your eyes.”

The voice was familiar and foreign all at once. It sounded vaguely of Orchestra, but the cadence was different. Whoever was speaking possessed a regality to their voice. It was as if I were in the presence of a princess. Wait a moment. The voice of a princess, and a bright ethereal glow? Could it be the Holy Mother? Perhaps my wife and sister coming together was due to the power of the Holy Mother’s love. The candles were extinguished because no light was needed but her own. It was a tad dramatic, but she was a goddess. The Goddess. She was allowed to have a dramatic flair.

I opened my eyes, ready to experience the glory of Cadance.

Princess Orchestra stared back at me. A horn protruded from her forehead, while two shimmering golden wings adorned her back. Her luminescent golden coat was the brightest light I had ever seen, yet somehow provided no light for the rest of the room. At this point, I did not bother asking any questions. It was obvious now that I had been dreaming.

I thought the world of my sister, most of the time, but even I could admit her becoming a princess was farfetched. Also, there was no way she and Lyra would have hugged otherwise. The two of them getting along was a nice fantasy though. I saw no reason to stop the fantasy from playing out.

Princess Orchestra stepped onto the table, and her horn flared. An ethereal ball was launched from her horn towards the ceiling. The ball exploded into a shower of sparks, because why not, and the sparks provided light to the rest of the room. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden illumination, but I was soon able to see everything clearly.

I wished I had not.

They were dead. Carbine, Joab, Lyra… each of their heads rested on the table with their throats slit. I lurched forward, and threw up over my pancakes. It was more than just the sight of their bodies; there was also the smell of their blood. It was everywhere, even in the syrup! Wait, the syrup? Oh, Goddess no. I dipped my hoof into the pitcher. When I pulled it out, my hoof was dripping with blood. I immediately threw up again.

No, calm down, Symphony. Calm down. This was not real. This could not be happening.

“Of course this is real, Symphony.” Orchestra, who had been surprisingly quiet during my episode, started to approach me. “Don’t you understand, little brother? I’m all the family you need.”

I fell out of my chair, and stumbled towards the back wall. As soon as I did so, I realized how stupid it was. I was unable to go backpedal any further, and Orchestra could easily intercept me if I went forward. I may have needed to brush up on my card phrases, but I knew one game phrase I could apply. Checkmate.

Orchestra chuckled, as she sauntered towards me. “Come now, Symphony, there’s no need to be so dramatic.” She stopped in front of me, and kneeled down until we were eye level. She brushed my face with a hoof, and used another to prop up my chin. “Just sit back, relax, and let me be your Princess.”

I had been wrong. I was not having a dream. This was a nightmare. And it was time for me to wake up.

My vision was blurry when I opened my eyes. Thankfully there was no splitting headache, but I would have rather woken up with my eyes working right. Though I supposed I should have been grateful to wake up at all. The priest in Hospitality had preached about some ponies not having the luxury of seeing another morning. Sombra was among those ponies now.

I considered sitting up, but since my leg still hurt I decided lying down would be more comfortable.

“You’re awake! Thank the Holy Mother!”

I vaguely recognized the voice. I believed it was the Doctor who had the anti-venom, but I had not heard his voice enough to be completely sure. I turned my head to see… I started hyperventilating. Injured leg or not, I needed to get out of here.

“Symphony? Are you alright?”

A decaying hoof slowly reached out towards me. I quickly swatted it away, and tumbled off the cot onto the ground. A chunk of rotten flesh I had swatted fell from the leg, instantly decaying the part of the floor it had touched. So it decayed anything that it came into contact with? Note to self, avoid contact at all… costs… With a feeling of dread, I looked down at my hoof.

The once azure color had mutated into a sick shade of… something. Who cared about the stupid color? The decay was crawling from my hoof up to my leg! If I did not act soon it would effect the rest of me. Would it kill me? I did not want to find out; I was not going to.

I stood up, ignoring the pain shooting up my leg. Step one complete. For step two I was going to need my… over there. My saddlebags had been placed in a spot close to the cot. Conveniently, said spot was right in front of me.

There was a chuckle behind me. “Symphony, there’s no need to worry. I’m Doctor Zimri. Your friends and I brought you here.”

So what? Was that supposed to make me feel better? The decay had almost completely taken over my leg. I needed to hurry before it spread to my back. I rummaged through my bag, violently yanking Savage out. Ah, there it was sitting at the bottom. My salvation.

“I wonder if he’s still suffering side-effects,” the Doctor muttered. “Symphony, I don’t know if you see anything, bu—put the knife down!”

No way, Doctor. This thing could kill me, and I needed to stay alive. I was going to have a life with Lyra when we crossed the border. I was going to help Carbine look after Missile for Sombra’s sake. I would not let this thing kill me. My leg was worth risking. I raised the infected leg towards my mouth, and… and… and, why did I feel so good? The knife clattered onto the ground, and I was not far behind. I face-planted onto the cot. At least, my face was on the cot. The rest of my body dangled off the side. The picture of dignity.

I heard a sigh, and turned my head towards the sound. Doctor Zimri stood next to me, his glasses lopsided. He regarded me with a smile, as he adjusted his glasses. “Let me guess, you had a bizarre dream and thought everything would be fine when you woke up. But when you did, you saw something horrifying. I’m going to assume the horrifying thing was me, and whatever it was transferred to your leg. And now everything seems normal?”

That was surprisingly accurate. I nodded, a stupid smile on my lips.

“Thought so.”

He leaned towards my shoulder with his mouth open. I normally would have swatted at him, or at least backed away, but my body felt too relaxed to warrant moving. This was not lethargy; this was bliss. Until I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I winced, and all at once the bliss melted away into normalcy. Easy come easy go.

Doctor Zimri held an empty syringe in his mouth, which he promptly spat into a nearby trash can. Or, he tried to. It bounced off the rim, and clattered to the floor. He shook his head, and used his magic to properly throw it away. “Do you know what was in that syringe?”

No, but I wanted to. I needed to know where I could get more of that feel good juice.

“It was Med-X. The anti-venom saved your life, but you seem to be suffering from side-effects. Vulpa venom is deadly, but in the right doses it can be used as a potent hallucinogenic. Med-X is used primarily as a painkiller, but it can also be used to reduce shock. In this case, it reset your brain enough to end your hallucination. I don’t know if this shot was enough to quell the effects, or if they’ll continue for a while. And I can’t give you a shot every time you start to hallucinate or else you’ll risk addiction.”

I had been injected with a potentially addictive painkiller? The better question was why I was not surprised? Of course something that amazing would be addictive. So much for my feel good juice. I just prayed I would not continue to suffer the side-effects of the vulpa venom.

He put a hoof on my shoulder, and looked straight into my eyes. “Remember, Symphony, it’s not real, and don’t lose your cool. If you had cut off your leg on my watch I don’t know what your marefriend would have done to me. Or that other one.” The Doctor shuddered, which sent his glasses askew.

Now that my body no longer felt amazing I decided movement was warranted. I reached into my saddlebag, and retrieved the quill I had found in Starfall’s tent. Seeing as I had no paper, something I hoped to rectify in the near future, I mimed writing with the quill to ask for some.

“You want some paper?” he asked, fixing his glasses. He returned my nod with one of his own. “I’ll add it to my list of travel supplies.”

Travel supplies? Was he coming with us? Why? Lyra had left me alone with him, so he was at least somewhat trustworthy. But he had still been travelling with ponies in Nero’s cult. I suddenly had the desire to learn more about Doctor Zimri. Hmm. Admittedly, I could have phrased that better.

He trotted towards the door with a saddlebag on his back, and a list hovering in front of him. “Aside from the paper I think I have everything on here. Potions, protection, ammunition, flashlight, chem—syringes!” He turned to me, and smiled sheepishly. “May I borrow your quill for a moment?”

Be my guest. I flicked my head, and tossed him the quill. He tried to catch it in-between his front hooves, but he was too early and the quill struck him in the chest. He missed it by that much. He picked it up with his mouth, scribbled something that I assumed was “syringes,” and tossed it back to me. It did not travel nearly far enough. I withheld a chuckle, assuming the disgusting noise I now made could be called a chuckle, and retrieved the quill on my own.

The Doctor coughed, and trotted towards the door. “Lyra should keep you company while I’m out. She nearly shot me when I insisted to be alone with you.” I cocked an eyebrow at that. He chuckled awkwardly, flushed, and fiddled with his glasses, which were already in proper position. “You needed rest, I needed to watch over you, and neither of us needed any distractions. It was a purely professional arrangement.”

He pushed open the door, but paused before turning back to me with a look of equal warmth and concern. “Just in case, Symphony. Remember it’s just a hallucination.” With that, Doctor Zimri disappeared from view.

This provided me with a rare moment of solitude. The type of moment I would need to sort out my emotional proble—

“Symph!”

And there went my moment.

Lyra stood in the doorway, with Missile sitting on her head. The colt had a smile that reached all the way to his bloodshot eyes. “You see, Thirteen! I told you Symph was gonna make it.”

“Of course he did. Symphony’s too stubborn to die,” she said with a wink.

Too stubborn to die? That would be a useful ability to have. I took a step towards them, but Lyra shook her head.

“Don’t get up on our account. Zimri says you still need your rest.” Lyra trotted towards me with less sensuality than usual. My first explanation was because Missile was with us, but I also noticed her eyes were only half-open.

I pointed to the bed with a quizzical stare.

“Symphony!” Lyra gasped, with a hoof over her heart in feigned distress. “I’m surprised at you. There’s a child in the room.”

What was sh—Oh. Really, Lyra? Really? Actually, the better question was why her response surprised me at all.

“I promise not to look.” Missile covered his face with his hooves, but there was enough space between them for him to peer through. I doubted Sombra would have approved.

I winced as I thought of him. I had only just started getting to really know him before he died. He was the only Cadanite among my companions, and in that way I lost a spiritual brother. Though, if I were being honest with myself, I was not all that sad. I was not happy he was dead, far from it. But his death did not hurt me, or make me want to cry. It was just another event in my life.

Wow. Only a few days in the Crystal Wasteland, and I was already unaffected by death. At this rate I would be a bonafide murderer by the end of the week.

I felt something warm press against me, and watched as Lyra rested her head on my shoulder. “Would you mind watching Missile for a while, Symphony? I hate to fall asleep on you, but he’s been keeping me busy these past few days.”

Did she just say days? And where in the hoof was here? Doctor Zimri had a shopping list, so we were likely in a town of some sorts, but which one? And where was Carbine? Ugh, all these unanswered questions were starting to hurt my head. I closed my eyes, and rubbed my temples.

I felt Lyra’s sweet lips plant a kiss on my head. “Better?”

Yes. I opened my eyes and… I forced a smile. It was not real, just a side-effect of the vulpa venom. Lyra’s face was more than a collection of teeth with an eye in the center. She had hooves, not gnarled rotting claws. She certainly did not wear a collection of hearts around her neck. As if I would fall for such a thing.

“You’ve already fallen for her lies, Symphony.” That voice. It was Orchestra’s. “Now you’re seeing her the way I do. For the monster she is.”

Having the disembodied voice of my sister whispering to me was far creepier than the monster I saw in front of me. It was still fake, but nonetheless creepy.

“Look at the kid then. Maybe seeing him will convince you that you’re travelling with monsters.”

Well, I was morbidly curious to see how Missile looked. Just remember, Symphony, this is all in your head. I shifted my gaze to look at the colt, who had flown over to the cot, and was surprised by what I saw. There were two wings, four hooves, a blue mane, and a hoodie. In other words, Missile looked exactly the same.
“Of course he does. He’s already a little monster.”

Nice try. Orchestra’s disembodied voice may have had a point, but I had a different theory. The venom had lost it potency. The Doctor had said most of it had been purged from my system. Lyra’s deformities and my sister’s voice were all it could conjure up. If my theory was right, its effects would not last much longer. It was about time too. The splitting headache had been bad enough without the hallucinations. I made a mental note to never be affected by vulpa venom again. The only plus was I barely felt the pain in my leg anymore.

Before Lyra fell asleep I did have a question for her. I looked at her, and did my best to mimic Carbine’s grin. Due to still seeing her as an abomination, I could not read her facial features. All I could tell was she shook her head. It seemed it was time to play my favorite game. Interpret that vague gesture. Right now my bets were on Carbine refusing to accept Doctor Zimri, and making an ass of himself. So, the usual.

“Hey, Symph? Can I ask you a question?”

You just did, Missile. Oh, one of the many things I hated about being mute. Nopony would ever hear my sarcasm again. Their gain I supposed.

“What’s it like to sleep for three days? Do you have one dream, lots of dreams, or what?”

I slept for three days? And there were still traces of the poison in me? I made a double note to not be affected by the poison again. As for Missile’s question, I only remembered having one dream. Though it was entirely possible I had others. I merely shrugged to reflect my uncertainty.

Missile plopped onto his back with a groan. “You’re as boring as ever, Symph.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lyra yawned. “He didn’t stop talking about you while you were out. Couldn’t wait to spend time with his ‘Other Bro.’”

Missile shot up, and waved a hoof at Lyra. “Di… did not, Thirteen. I totally didn’t cry.”

“Never said you did,” she replied, her eyes closing.

Missile threw up his hood, but I did not fail to see the blush on his face. I chuckled, my disgusting wet noise of a chuckle, and immediately felt guilty. Missile trying to act tough was funny and all, but I knew the real reason he was worried about me. He did not want to see another companion die after losing Sombra. Poor kid.

I needed to do something for him, something to take his mind off things. Especially if Lyra needed her rest. She was not the only one that could look after a grieving child. I carefully moved away from the wall, and slightly adjusted Lyra so she would not fall over. I saw her smile, and heard her whisper my name. It sent a wave of good feelings all over my body; she just had that special way of saying my name. I gently brushed part of her mane, and kissed the tip of her horn. I really wanted to snuggle with her, and sleep beside her.

But, alas, I had a child to distract.

I took a gander through the contents of my saddlebag. Due to my earlier episode my effects were scattered on the ground, but I was able to find what I needed without too much difficulty. Hopefully I could find something on the radio to raise Missile’s spirits. Ksssh. Ksssh. Ksssh. Stupid static. I fiddled with the antennae, as I walked around the room to find a signal. The first chance I got, I was going to upgrade my radio.

“One by.. kssh… were emptied… kssh… away… Now the family is parted, will it be complete one day? Will the circle be unbroken, by and by? By and by? Is a better home awaiting in the sky? In the sky.”

The voice was soft and mournful. Whoever was singing sounded as if they were on the verge of tears, particularly at the words “by and by.” Beautiful music, but terrible timing. Missile hugged his backlegs close to his chest. He was not shaking, but I could hear a faint sniffle from under his hood. I nearly changed the channel, but stopped when I heard a familiar rasp.

“Welcome to Tombstone Radio, everypony. Brought to you by grief, everypony’s favorite companion.” The Reverend sighed, before continuing. “A little birdy told me that there was a robbery in Hospitality the other day. Now I know what you’re thinking, listener. But Reverend, that’s a merchant town. Robbery is to be expected, especially of the daylight variety.” He paused, and chuckled mirthlessly. “But this was different, listeners. Somepony had the gall to rob a church during service, and killed one of the congregation.

“Now, I try to not be a judging stallion. After all, the Holy Mother does command us all to ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’ And I understand there are desperate ponies in the Crystal Wasteland. Believe me, listeners, my heart goes out to all of them. But the Holy Mother also tells us, ‘Woe to those who call evil good and good evil.’ And I feel I would be doing the deceased and the sister he left behind a disservice if I did not call out evil when I see it so clearly.

“To the Red Terror, or whatever you call yourself, what you did was evil. I pray you will repent, and find mercy and forgiveness in the Holy Mother. Because you sure won’t find it in anypony else.” The Reverend half hissed, and half coughed into his microphone. The noise was even more disgusting than one of my chuckles.

“But,” I could feel the grin on his face as Reverend Bones continued, “not all news is bad news, listeners. Word in the Wastes is that a group of pilgrims ignored old Reverend Bones’ warning, and went scavenging around Ghoul’s Point. And it just so happens they killed any heathen ferals who crossed their path.” He chuckled again, but this time he seemed genuinely pleased. “While I can’t condone any kind of killing, being a Reverend and all, I think I speak for all my listeners when I tip my hat in thanks. Goddess speed, pilgrims, this tune goes out to you. And may the light of the Crystal Heart guide you on your path.”

I switched off the radio, just in case he played another sad song, and put it back in my bag. After that, silence. Missile continued to sit with his hood up, and made no effort to communicate with me. I may have deserved that. A hymn about death followed by Reverend Bones bashing Carbine was quite possibly the worst thing for Missile to listen to. I sighed, and rubbed my temples. Good Goddess above, I was terrible at this. I climbed onto the cot, and gave Missile a hug. Aside from that, I had nothing to offer.

He flipped his hood up, and looked back at me. His eyes were even redder now than they were a minute ago. He had stopped crying, but his eyes still pierced me like arrows. He must have learned that stare from Sombra. “Symph, is Bro bad?”

Uh, what? Where did this come from? I thought he was upset with me, not Carbine. Not that I was complaining. I was simply confused.

“Sombra said he always knew Bro would be the death of him. And if Bro didn’t shoot that priest, Sombra could’ve been saved. And he shot that other priest in the church, and he killed that one pony.” Missile’s stare did not relent, but I could feel the hesitation in his voice. “Symph, is Bro an evil pony?”

Reverend Bones seemed to think so. He had killed in cold blood, shot a priest for fun, and killed another despite his comrade telling him not to. I was no unicorn, but I heavily doubted the veracity of “magic slippage.” Not to mention his irreverence towards the dead. Carbine was a menace, no doubt about that, but was he truly evil? I found myself recollecting his words around the fire the other day. “I guess, while he’s not my favorite pony, I can say that I understand why he acts the way he does.”

I was not at that point yet. I may have gotten a sliver of insight into Carbine’s history, but I did not fully understand him. For my own sanity, that was for the best. But, even if I could not fully understand him it did not mean I wanted to give up on him. Sombra told me not to lose my faith, and the smiling filly made me want to have faith in other ponies. If I looked Missile in the eye and told him Carbine was evil, I would be giving up on both the maroon moron as well as on Sombra’s final request.

I shook my head.

Missile’s piercing stare lost all of its ferocity. Instead, he looked relieved. He leaned backwards, away from me, and lied down on his back. “You’re right, Symph. Bro’s too awesome to be evil. It was probably some zebra voodoo magic that made me think that.”

Zebra voodoo magic? I cocked an eyebrow, but Missile was already burying his face into a Flash! comic. That would keep him occupied, and, happy, for a little while at least. I climbed out of the cot, and slumped against the wall beside Lyra. I rested my head on hers, careful to avoid being poked by her horn, and closed my eyes. Now I just needed a few moments of silence to drift into a, hopefully peaceful, sleep.

There was a loud rapping at the door.

I opened my eyes, and grimaced at the door. Honestly, I felt no surprise. The universe seemed intent to prevent me from sleeping well. If I was being punished for a future sin, I hoped it was worth the trouble.

Lyra opened her eyes, and yawned silently. “Come in,” she said groggily. After clearing her throat, she repeated it.

The door opened, and a beige stallion with a purple beard stepped into the doorframe. He was well-built, but not overly bulky. He wore a neatly pressed CDF uniform, and a hat on his head. On his left side there was a holster for a pistol. On his right was a sheathed sword. The stallion removed his hat, revealing an extremely short purple mane. I also noticed it was adorned with a silver pin the shape of a heart. The same pin was also present on the front of his uniform. A lieutenant colonel.

“Corporal Symphony?”

Oh, right, I was wearing the uniform. Out of respect, and fearful of the repercussions of wearing scavenged barding, I saluted.

He returned the salute. “At ease, Corporal.” He cast his blue eyes at Lyra. “Ma’am.” He bowed, and put his hat back on. Then his eyes returned to me. “We have a situation at the barracks, and Doctor Zimri recommended you might be the best pony to deal with it. Can I count on you, soldier?”

Since refusing was probably a bad idea, court marshals and all that, I nodded. And pragmatic reasons aside, I was curious to see what task Doctor Zimri recommended me for.

“You heard him, soldier. It’s bad protocol to keep your officer waiting.” Lyra lightly pushed me towards the officer, and walked to the bed. “I can stay awake long enough to watch Missile while you’re gone.” She then shot a glare at the Lieutenant Colonel. “And it’s bad manners to keep a lady waiting, sir. I’ll be expecting my soldier to be back in a pristine and timely manner.”

He bowed again. “Of course, ma’am. The mission situation shouldn’t be too difficult to get under control.” His gaze switched to me, and his voice hardened with authority. “Are you ready, Corporal?”

I pointed to my knife and Savage with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head, and began to walk towards the door. “Doctor Zimri insisted you not bring any weapons.”

That was a relief. I doubted the Doctor would want me dead after nursing me back to health. If he insisted that I not bring my weapons then I could trust my life was not in danger. Unless, of course, this was all an elaborate ruse, and he was separating me from my companions in order to return me to my sister. In that case, I should have at least brought the knife.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Missile waving. He was still too engrossed in his comic to say goodbye, but at least he was trying. I returned the wave, as I walked outside. I knew he would not see, but returning a wave was common courtesy. I have may have been growing ever so steadily colder, but I was not yet a barbarian.

I stepped outside, and was greeted by the sight of the setting sun. Colors danced across the sky, the vibrant red and cool blue blending into a haze of purple. The oranges and yellows on the horizon made it seem as if the sky were on fire. The idea was horrific, but the results were simply breathtaking. I sighed internally. I hoped the sunset would be just as beautiful across the border.

I walked with the CDF officer through a small neighborhood. The houses were much nicer than the dump I called home. These actually had shingled roofs, and were made of stone rather than creaky wood. The only improvements my dump had were the larger windows. Then again, I only had one floor to look through. These houses had two. Even if their windows were smaller, they had by far the better view.

I did not see very many ponies out. There was an old couple sitting on a porch swing, a few kids playing with a stick in the street, and I saw a cute young mare sneak out of her window to join a dashing young stallion on the ground.

The Lieutenant Colonel saw them too, and shook his head. “Teenagers.” I pointed to the door of the house, but he shook his head again. “It’s not our job to foalsit, Corporal. As long as they don’t cause trouble and are back home by nightfall, I couldn’t be bothered by what they do.” He looked back at them, and his brow furrowed. “Maybe I’d be more sympathetic if I had kids.”

I shrugged, and walked on in silence. After a minute or so the two of us reached a guard station at the edge of the neighborhood. The station had the words, “Camp Terminus,” engraved into the bottom. We were at a CDF base? I supposed being surrounded by armed guards was safer than camping in the open, but was it really wise? I did not know how many of the ponies here were in Nero’s cult. Lyra and Carbine could be in danger here, and Missile and I could be guilty by association. I prayed I would be able to make it through the day without losing another companion.

The guard station had two mares sitting inside. One, an earth pony with a mane as short as the Lieutenant Colonel’s, was vigilantly watching the horizon through a pair of binoculars. The other, a black unicorn, was vigilantly flipping through the pages of… oh my. Was that the performing mare from Hospitality on the cover? The guard leaned backwards in her chair, and I was given an ample view of the mare on the cover. Oh yes, I would recognize her flank anywhere.

The Lieutenant Colonel snatched the magazine with his hoof, and his eyes hardened. “I should have you court marshaled for this, Recruit Sunflower. This the third time I’ve caught you with contraband.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Amasa!” Recruit Sunflower’s bright yellow eyes widened, and her chair fell backwards. It landed against a wall, preventing her from plummeting to the floor. She presented the two of us with a toothy grin, and a salute. “Hehe, fancy seeing you here, sir. I thought you were handling a situation at the barracks.”

“Maybe if you actually did your job you would have noticed me when I passed by earlier,” he growled. “And I still am, Recruit. Corporal Symphony here was recommended by Doctor Zimri.”

“By the egghead?” She immediately pressed a hoof against her mouth. “I mean, that’s an impressive recommendation. Knock ‘em dead, Corporal,” she said with a wink.

Knock ‘em dead? What was I supposed to be knocking on a non-violent assignment? Pins? Oh no, I had not been asked me to join a bowling game had I? I prayed to the Holy Mother it was not bowling. If I never kicked another ball in the gutter for the rest of my days, it would be too soon.

Lieutenant Colonel Amasa rolled his eyes. “Get back to work, Recruit. And be sure to be up at 0600 hours tomorrow. I’m putting you on flag raising duty.”

Sunflower opened her mouth, but put her hoof in front of it again and nodded.

“Good.” He shook the magazine, and his face contorted in disgust. “Maybe this will teach you to not look at contraband while you’re on guard duty, Recruit.” He strutted past her, and in front of the earth pony. He saluted her, and nodded his approval. “Good work, Recruit Violet. Keep at it.”

“Sir!” she replied.

Sunflower rolled her eyes towards me. The toothy grin returned to her face, and she tilted her head in the direction of the other two. “Good luck with the egghead, and the stick in the mud,” she mouthed to me.

“Thanks,” I mouthed back, and smiled. To be honest, I thought the Lieutenant Colonel was completely in the right to punish her. She was breaking a rule, and was distracted while on guard duty. Part of it was to enforce a rule, but I knew he was also trying to protect her from making a costly mistake in the future. But I felt that I had to say thanks. I was new to my disability, and finding ways around it had been difficult. I had been too busy fixating on the loss of my voice to realize I could still use my mouth to form words. So thank you, Recruit Sunflower. You just made my life easier.

I walked past her, and found myself casting glances back her way. I was in a happy relationship, and knew gawking at mares was not an act any decent stallion should do. Even if she was abnormally cute. But it was more than her attractiveness. There was something about Sunflower’s golden mane that forced me to steal another look. I felt like I had seen it somewhere before, but could not put my hoof on it.

“Enjoying the view, Corporal?”

I flinched as if I had been struck. Actually, scratch that analogy. It was more like being caught with my hoof in a cookie jar. I felt slightly ashamed, but mostly disappointed I had been caught. Something hit me in the head, now I could use the struck analogy, and I gazed downward to find the magazine on the ground.

“I’ve never been one for mares myself, but maybe you’ll get some use out of it.”

“I thought it was contraband?” I mouthed.

He grinned at me. “There’s no such thing as contraband if you’re an officer. And since you’re not under my command, it’s none of my business what you have in your bags.”

So much for being a stick in the mud. I considered taking the magazine, only for the purpose of selling it later, obviously, but decided against it. I had no saddlebag with me, and did not want to be seen carrying around porn on my back or in my mouth. Especially in my mouth.
I ultimately walked past the magazine, though I did manage to steal a glance at it.

The main plaza of Camp Terminus was not far at all from the guard station. We had reached a nest of buildings, which were surrounding a statue. I gaped as I stared at the bronze statue of the Burned Stallion. No, my mistake. The stallion before me was not wearing a tattered cloak, nor was he shrouded in pink mist. He stood proudly on his backlegs, clutching a spear in his mouth. He was also clothed in battle regalia. There was a helmet, a chest piece, and what looked to be special shoes on his hooves. Even though it was only a statue, I could feel the power in his muscles.
This was not the Burned Stallion; this was Shining Armor.

“It seems I’m not the only one with an eye for handsome stallions,” Lieutenant Colonel Amasa mused.

Hardly. I had no qualms with admitting another stallion was attractive. Still, his comment made me feel self-conscious. I tore my eyes away from the statue, and began to look at the buildings around it. According to the signs in the plaza there was; a firing range, a commissary, an exchange, and a recreation center in the area. I had yet to find a church, but I doubted any self-respecting CDF base would be without one. Many of the lights were off, and some of the buildings were being closed. But there was one building that remained open.

The Holy Spirit, which was easily the most blasphemous name I had ever seen for a bar, was bustling with life. Ponies were walking in an out, and most of them were in large groups. One pony was lying drunk on the grass in front of the building shouting obscenities. A few ponies shouted back, but most just ignored him. I saw one pony, a scrawny unicorn, talking to him and trying to help him up. But the drunk just shoved him aside, and I heard him shout the word motherfucker at least thrice.

I smacked a hoof against my face, and groaned. It was a disgusting sound, but one that perfectly expressed how I felt. This was my task? I gave up sleeping next to Lyra for this? I stormed towards the two ponies, shoving my way past any others who were in my way. There was no time to be polite; I had a moron to deal with.

I tapped the drunk on the shoulder.

He turned around, and his mustard-yellow eyes narrowed. “Sho, yer finananaly showin’ yer face, Shymph?” He tried to stand up, but his backlegs buckled. He landed on his face, and waved a hoof at me. “Gih me a secy sec, Shymph.”

Or I could help him up. After all, he was my dear companion. I hooked one of my legs around Carbine’s neck, and yanked him to his hooves. He looked terrible, and not because he was drunk. Er, not solely because he was drunk. There was some vomit in his mane, and the side of his face. But there was more to it than that. The other day he had been struck with magical fire, and a good portion of his left side was covered in healing bandages. Hopefully they would heal him better than they had my throat.

Carbine shoved me, but I did not let him go. Instead, I stared deep into his eyes. He continued to struggle, but my gaze did not relent. When he looked back, I noticed there was something different about him. Aside from being drunk, of course. I saw no grin in Carbine, just mania. That was a terrifying concept.

He sneered at me, or at least he tried to. The muscles in his mouth did not move quite right, so his lower lip drooped instead of curled. But I understood his intent. “You killed ‘im, Shymph! You ‘n this un,” he paused, and flailed a hoof at Doctor Zimri. “You killed Sombra.”

With renewed vigor, Carbine sank his teeth into my leg. Thankfully it was not the leg that had been hit with the arrow, but it hurt nonetheless. I grit my teeth, and slammed a hoof into his face. When he refused to let go, I hit him again and again. There was a sickening crunch, and Carbine’s nose began to bleed profusely. Still, he refused to let go. Both blood and saliva dripped onto my leg, and it made me want to hit him harder. Essence of Carbine, ugh. I just hoped he did not puke on me as well.

I thought about hitting him again, and nearly did, but another thought prevented me from doing so. Carbine was not being belligerent because he was a heathen. He was grieving. I had been too focused on getting him off of me that I had yet to actually consider what he said. He blamed the Doctor and me for Sombra’s death. Lyra had shaken her head earlier when I asked her about Carbine. Of course she did. Carbine had likely spent the last few days avoiding me, and by extension her. If I had lost Lyra or Orchestra I would not want to be around the pony I blamed for their death.
It came back down to communication walls. Carbine was using alcohol as one, and I needed to break it down. I would not wish grief upon my worst enemy, let alone my companion. Besides, I wanted him to stop biting me.

I unhooked my leg from his neck. Carbine was still biting my leg, which still hurt, but I did not try to shake him off or hit him. I just looked at him with as much sympathy as I could. That seemed to make him angrier, as he bit down harder. I winced, but did not retaliate. Carbine snorted, and released his grip on me.

Only to tackle me a second later.

He pinned me to the ground, and used his magic to smash his empty bottle on the ground. The glass shattered, and a few shards cut into my cheek. I tried to move a hoof to rub my cuts, but I felt the edge of the broken bottle press against my neck. I raised my eyes. The waning sunlight made Carbine glow like a ball of wild fire. Now he was able to truly sneer at me.

Click.

Lieutenant Colonel Amasa stood behind Carbine, pressing the barrel of his revolver against the maroon moron’s head. His tongue was already resting on the trigger.

“Carbine, please, calm down!” Doctor Zimri was standing behind the officer, fiddling with his glasses. “Nopony has to die today.”

Carbine ignored them, and the maniacal grin formed on his face. “Isn’t this fitting, Symph? I get to kill one of Sombra’s killers just for the other one to have me axed off?” He sputtered out laughter. “Isn’t it fucking hilarious, Symphony?!”

No, not even in a cosmic sort of way. This was pretty far from hilarious. Especially given the stench of alcohol washing over me. I shook my head.

He titled his, and pressed his temple closer to the gun. “You know, you might be right about that, Symph. You dying isn’t all that funny. I mean, Thirteen would kill me if you died.” More laughter sputtered out of him, but it felt significantly more forced this time. “And Missile, boy would he be pissed if something happened to you. But not me. Oh no, not me.” He leaned forward, and our faces were nearly touching.

“He’s barely even looked at me since Sombra died. It’s as if he blamed me for it happening. Me!” He incessantly tapped his hoof against his head. “And you know what’s so Goddess-damned funny about it, Symph? You know what really has me laughing my motherfucking flank off?”

He maneuvered his head so that he could whisper in my ear, “He’s right.”

Carbine’s voice cracked, and so did his facade. There was a pony Carbine blamed for Sombra’s death, and it was not me or Doctor Zimri. I could not tell if he had resumed laughing, or if he was crying now.

“I did it. It was me. I killed him, Symph. I killed him when I shot that other fucker in the head.” The bottle levitated away from my throat, and pressed against his. “Isn’t it funny, Symph? I want to avenge my own victim.” He pricked his skin, and blood started to trickle from his neck. Despite the tears in his eyes, he was grinning. “Please, look after Missile. Ole Somby would kill me if anything ever happened to him.”

Now I hit him again, this time in the chest. The bottle hit the floor and rolled away, but Carbine remained on his hooves. He clutched his chest, and hurled. Only divine intervention prevented it from landing on me. Thank you, Holy Mother.

He looked at me, both sorrowful and confused. “I don’t get it. I thought you didn’t like me. For the church. For Sombra. For… -for being me. Why won’t you let me die?” I tried mouthing my response to Carbine, but he just looked more confused. “I’m sorry, Symph; I can’t read lips either.”

So mouthing words was not the ultimate shortcut I hoped it to be. Oh, well. I turned to the other two ponies. Lieutenant Colonel Amasa was no longer holding the gun to Carbine’s head, but it was still in his mouth. I nodded to him, and he holstered his weapon. I then turned to Doctor Zimri, and mimed writing. He nodded, and briefly searched his bags until he recovered a sheet of paper. He passed it to me, and the Lieutenant Colonel tossed me a quill. That was convenient. I scribbled down my thoughts, and handed them to the Doctor. He cleared his throat, and read them aloud.

“I’m your crystal brother, remember? I’ve got your back.”

I felt bad writing that. The use of a contraction aside, I did not view myself as Carbine’s brother after what he did at the church. But this was what he needed to hear right now. If I wanted to have faith in Carbine I needed to put forth some effort.

“Yeah, but what about Missile? My little Bro hates me now.”

I motioned for the paper, scribbled a reply, and returned it to the Doctor.

“You’re still his Bro, Carbine.”

Those five words removed any trace of a grin from Carbine’s face, and replaced it with a smile. It was a small smile, and it was beyond goofy. His lip was drooping, and the corner of his mouth was slightly open. But it was much preferred to the maniacal grin.

“Are we done here, Corporal?”

Yes, yes we were. I nodded.

“Good.” The Lieutenant Colonel turned to face the Doctor with a scowl on his face. “Since he didn’t hurt anypony I’m willing to overlook this incident. I doubt General Omri would want to be bothered with the paperwork anyway. But you need to keep your scouts under control, Doctor. Any further infractions on my base will not be tolerated. Am I clear?”

The Doctor looked almost as bad as Carbine. His glasses had almost fallen off his face, barely dangling off of his left ear. He was sweating furiously, and his body seemed to shrink at the harsh words. He nodded weakly, and squeaked out a, “Yes, sir.”

The officer grunted, and focused his attention on Carbine. “And as for you, Recruit, you’d be well served to learn some discipline. You don’t see any of my soldiers making asses of themselves.”

The Holy Mother begged to differ. As soon as the Lieutenant Colonel finished speaking, a pink unicorn mare flanked by a pair of earth pony stallions stumbled out of the bar. When the trio noticed their commanding officer, they all stopped to salute. One of the earth ponies immediately fell on his face, and the other stumbled about only to join his companion on the ground. Only the mare was able to firmly stand on all four hooves, and give a proper salute.

“Evening, sir. Don’t worry about these two. I’ll see them to their quarters.”

I wondered if the Lieutenant Colonel caught the twinkle in the pink mare’s eye.

He nodded curtly. “As you were, Captain Sureshot. Get these disgraces out of my sight, and put them on flag raising duty with Recruit Sunflower.”

“Sir.” The Captain helped the drunken earth ponies onto their hooves, and guided them towards the barracks.

Once they were out of earshot, he sighed and waved a hoof at Carbine. “You could at least wear your uniform.”

Carbine hopped off of me, and saluted. “Sorry, sir, but wearing a uniform would blow my cover. General’s orders.”

General’s orders? What in the hoof was he talking about? And on that note, why was Carbine considered to be under Doctor Zimri’s command? It seemed it would be a while before I was fully up to speed.

“General’s orders.” The words were like venom in the officer’s mouth. “I suppose it’s not my place to question my superior officers. But that’s no reason for you to not wear your uniform while you’re on base, Recruit.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize, sir. I’ll get right on that, sir.” Carbine was having a little too much fun saying the word sir.

Lieutenant Colonel Amasa rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “Recruits,” he muttered. He glanced at Doctor Zimri, and saluted him. “You and yours are dismissed, Doctor. I don’t know how strict your schedule is, but the choir will be performing for us tomorrow in the church. If time permits I would recommend staying. They have a fantastic soprano if you’re interested.”

The Doctor returned the salute, and smiled grimly. “I appreciate the invitation, sir, but I’m afraid we’ll have to decline. I want to get through hostile territory as quickly as possible.”

Hostile territory? And so soon after we had lost one of our own? Maybe it was just me, but this sounded like a horrible idea. I glanced at Carbine to gauge his reaction. To the surprise of nopony he did not seem fazed at all by the news. In fact, he was practically bouncing up and down in pure bliss. It was a bizarre sight to say the least. He caught me looking at him, and extended a hoof towards me. “Bro hoof, my crystal brother?”

I hesitantly started at his hoof. Not one of iota of me was thrilled about hostile territory, so I certainly did not share Carbine’s enthusiasm. But, he had called me his crystal brother. I supposed one bro hoof would not kill me. I returned the gesture, a smile creeping onto my lips.

“Corporal,” the Lieutenant Colonel barked.

I faced him, and the smile melted away. I was not intimidated. I just felt if I were masquerading as a soldier I should be serious when facing my superior officer. And speaking of which, I was asking the Doctor about his plan the first chance I got.

The Lieutenant Colonel gestured towards Carbine and the Doctor. “If General Omri wants them alive then so do I. So I want you to keep an eye on these two for me.” He specifically pointed at Carbine. “Keep this one out of trouble.” Then he moved his hoof to point at the Doctor. “And help this one grow some balls. Lieutenant Colonel’s orders.”

I nodded, and saluted.

“You’re dismissed, soldiers. And may the light of the Crystal Heart guide you on your path.”

“And it you, sir,” Doctor Zimri replied.

While his face was a mask of stone, I could hear the scowl in his voice. The officer seemed not to notice, as he turned his back and trotted towards the barracks. My guess was to check on the drunken recruits. I prayed for their safety.

“’Grow some balls,’ he says. What a jerk,” Doctor Zimri muttered.

“I think he’s right, Doc; you’re kind of a puss,” Carbine chuckled.

“As if,” the Doctor scoffed. “I simply prefer to avoid conflict whenever possible. Life is simpler that wa—.”

He was in the process of taking a step forward when Carbine stepped in front of him. The maroon moron scowled at the Doctor, and lurched forward. Zimri squeaked, like a filly, and fell backwards, but I was able to catch him before he hit the ground. He flashed me a smile, as he adjusted his glasses. I nodded back, and helped him to his hooves. When he was firmly on the ground, he shot a glare at Carbine.

“Oh, you’re glaring at me now? You got something to say, Doc?” Carbine took one step forward, and Zimri took two steps back. “Well, if you’ve got something to say, then I think you should say it to my face.” He leaped forward, and closed the distance between the two of them. Zimri squeaked again, but Carbine grabbed his shoulders and kept him from falling. “Now, Doc, say it to my face.”

The Doctor turned to me, and flicked his eyes at Carbine. I simply shrugged. I did not feel any malice from Carbine, surprisingly, so I figured I would let this play out. If the situation got too dangerous, however, I would not hesitate to intervene.

Carbine used his hoof to tilt Zimri’s face so that the two of them had their eyes locked. “Sorry, Doc, but Symph’s not interested in what you have to say. I am.” He tapped his hoof against Zimri’s forehead, and snickered. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“You’re an asshole!”

The voice was so shrill that for a second I thought I imagined it. Doctor Zimri’s voice was never gruff, but what I heard was octaves higher than what I would ever expected. Even Missile’s voice did not crack like that.

Doctor Zimri shoved Carbine away, and glared at him. Maybe it was just me, but the way his glasses reflected the waning sunlight looked surprisingly intimidating. “You’re an asshole, Carbine, and I’ve thought that since the moment we met. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have asked for Symphony to calm you down; I would have let Amasa handle you. He probably would have killed you, and good riddance! The Crystal Wasteland would be better off without ponies like you.”

The Doctor began panting. Each breath was deep, and I could see his body growing tenser with each one. His glasses were askew, I was beginning to wonder why he bothered with them at all, but he did not bother to adjust them. His eyes were fully locked on Carbine. I had expected Carbine to be silent and expressionless. Although he had been provoked, I had not expected the Doctor to have an outburst. Especially after he was squeaking only seconds ago. And I could not imagine what it was like being told the world would be better off without you. Especially given Carbine’s recent mental state. Or if not silent and expressionless, I expected Carbine to respond violently.

I clearly did not know my companion.

He clopped his front hooves together, and the maniacal grin was present on his face. “See? Now was that so hard, Doc?”

Zimri tilted his head, and his mouth gaped. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

He took the words right out of my mouth. Though, I supposed they were no longer there to begin with. Ugh, how many expressions would I have to rephrase now with my disability? Losing my voice was bad enough, but my vocabulary was damaged as well? Orchestra, you monster.

Carbine put a hoof on the Doctor’s shoulder. “It’s a tough world out there, Doc. You know that. I mean, fuck, you were there when Sombra died. And according to Symph and Thirteen, there’s at least one more group of those assholes coming after us. And if you can’t even stand up to me when I stand in front of you, then how in the fuck are you gonna survive when they point a gun at you?” Carbine moved his hoof, and lightly punched Doctor Zimri on the shoulder. “So toughen up a bit, Doc. I don’t want to see anypony else get killed.”

He paused for a second before adding, “Eh, actually I don’t mind seeing ponies getting killed. It adds a sense of adventure to everything. I just don’t want it to be part of my crew.” The grin grew larger, and he practically skipped forward. “That’s right, I get to be in charge now that the King is gone. Oh, shit! Look out, Crystal Wasteland, motherfucking Carbine is comin’ to fuck shit up!” Laughing like a psychopath, which in my book he was, he took off towards our residence.

The Doctor and I exchanged a glance. “He’s terrifying,” he stated.

He had no idea. And on second thought, neither did I. Not about Carbine, I had seen enough of him to be properly afraid. But there was something else I needed to know more of. Using the Lieutenant Colonel’s quill, I wrote my question on the same piece of paper.
“Why are you with us, Doctor? If you are a True Cadanite, then why travel with heathens and their comrades?”

Guilt crossed his face, and he hung his head as he trotted along. “I may not like Carbine, but I can admit he’s right about me, Symphony. I’m a coward. I’m not a True Cadanite,” he spat out the name like it was a disease. Or a contraction. “The very idea disgusts me. I’m a doctor; I don’t want to kill anypony.” He raised his head, and titled it towards Carbine. “Even he has a place in this world. Somewhere.”

Somewhere. He did not say it, but I imagined he wanted to add, “Preferably, somewhere far away from me.”

He sighed, and shook his head. “To answer your question, Symphony, it’s so I can hopefully start a new life across the border.” He gestured to the area surrounding us. “The Crystal Wasteland holds too many painful memories.”

Now I was very curious. I wanted to ask him about said memories, but decided against it. If Lyra found out she would likely scold me again for being rude. But Lyra was not the main reason I decided against it. If Doctor Zimri wanted to move on from his past, then who was I to bring it up? That did not stop me from scribbling an entirely unrelated question.

“General’s orders?”

That brought a smirk to his face, and gave me a modest shrug. “I needed to think of an excuse as to why I was travelling with a soldier, a child, and two non-crystal civilians. So I fabricated a story of us being part of a scouting mission commissioned by General Omri.”

“Were you not questioned?” I wrote.

“Of course I was. But the only way to prove me a liar would be to contact the General. And Amasa knows better than to question his superior officer An—”

Our conversation was suspended when we reached the guard station. Recruits Violet and Sunflower were still on duty. The former was still glued to her binoculars, but stopped to salute us as we walked by. Sunflower had resumed leaning back in her chair, but no longer had a magazine to keep her company. Instead, she was holding a picture. She was smiling wistfully at it, as she rocked back and forth. She was in her own little world, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities around her.

Now, Symphony, there is no need to be so melodramatic. I needed to do something to lighten my mood.

I wrote something on the piece of paper, I was starting to run out of room, and tapped on the edge of the station. Recruit Sunflower jolted in surprise, and her chair began to wobble. But this time she was able to keep her balance, although the photograph slipped from her hooves. When she saw me, I received a salute and toothy grin.

“Oh, hey, Corporal. As you can see, I’ve been busy being a good soldier. Just keeping watch, and no contraband whatsoever,” she chuckled.

About that. I held up the paper so she could read my note. “Your magazine was dumped on the road between here and the plaza. You might still be able to find it.”

What could I say? If she was in her own world she should get to enjoy it as long as she could. I would still be in my own if not for Orchestra’s knife. Hopefully Sunflower’s reckoning would be less violent, and, permanently disabling, when it eventually arrived. Besides, somepony was eventually going to find that magazine and keep it. It was only right the owner be given a fair shot of getting it back.

Recruit Sunflower had her hooves around me before I had the chance to react. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, Corporal. I don’t know what I’d do without that magazine!”

“Your job for starters,” Recruit Violets grumbled.

Sunflower rolled her eyes. “I do my job just fine with my porn. How many attacks have there been while I’ve been on duty?”

“None, bu—”

“Exactly. I’ve got a perfect record.” She planted a kiss on my cheek, causing my insides to feel warm and fuzzy, before retreating back to her chair. She levitated the photo, and grinned at it. “You better watch out, Sis. I’m only a few more promotions away from being a higher rank than you. Captain Sunflower, and Lieutenant Starfall. Yeah, I like the sound of that. What do you think, Corporal?”

I had started trotting away the instant she said her sister’s name. Starfall’s little sister. Now it all made sense. Her mane was so familiar because I had met her before. She was younger then, and, not nearly as cute, but her mane had always been bright gold. It seemed I was completely justified in wanting to give Sunflower a little extra happiness. Her reckoning was already on its way.

I returned to our residence, and found Carbine sprawled on the floor. He was snoring loudly, and there was a puddle of drool next to his head. Anarchy lay in-between his hooves. Even in his sleep he cuddled with it. I stepped over him, careful to avoid his drool, and slumped against the wall.

Lyra had fallen asleep, and was sitting against the wall as she had been earlier. This time she had Missile to keep her company. He was sleeping with his head in her lap. One of her hooves was positioned behind his head, as if she were trying to comfort him. Almost like a mother would.

I placed my hoof over hers, as I rested my body against her. Not too long ago I had thought of Missile as a little brother, but maybe I had looked it at it the wrong way. Perhaps he could become my son, with Lyra as his mother. I felt my face contort at the thought. I was nowhere near ready to have a child, let alone one like Missile. His language was just disgusting. But if he could clean that up I think he could be a good kid.

Suddenly, the colt stirred. He started muttering something, but I could not make out what it was. His body curled up, and his face tightened. I wondered if he were having a nightmare. When was I was his age I had nightmares too. Usually about the Shadow Goddess or the Fallen Angels coming to get me. Every now and then, though, I would hear a tune in my dreams. It was different every time, but it was always played on a flute. And anytime I heard the flute I was able to sleep soundly.

I gently rubbed the back of Missile’s head. Hearing the flute was nice, but what made me feel safe was knowing that my sister was looking after me. Hopefully this would have the same affect on Missile. It was not immediate, but he slowly stopped stirring and resumed his peaceful sleep.

“You’re much better with kids than I am.” Doctor Zimri entered the room, and shut the door behind him with a kick. He trotted towards the cot, and slipped off his saddlebags and glasses. “I would have given him a small dose of Med-X, and called it a day.” He climbed onto the cot, and yawned loudly. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, Symphony. So make sure to get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Doctor’s orders, huh? He was right. I needed to get some rest. As my mind began to drift off to sleep I realized something. I was comfortable here with these ponies. We had all faced our reckonings. Orchestra’s knife, Sombra’s death, and the unknown memories of Doctor Zimri. Despite this, we could still find comfort in each other’s company.

Was this what it meant to be a family? It had nothing to do with blood, or how well two ponies got along. Family was comfort; family was peace. The theory could use a little tweaking, but it was good enough for my tired mind. Maybe I still had a trace of the vulpa venom in my system, but I could swear I heard a flute playing as I drifted off to sleep.

Footnote: Level Up!

New Perk: Silver Tongue. Your tongue is so smooth you could sell dirt to an earth pony. Try it sometime! Speech increased to 50.

Author's Notes:

Another month, another chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one. While I'll admit the bits with the CDF ponies was basically filler, I thought it was important to show not all CDF ponies are assholes. Also, I thought it was funny.

As always, thanks to Kkat, other authors, and my readers. The Fo:E verse wouldn't be the same without you. And in the case of Kkat, wouldn't exist!

See ya in a month, everypony!