“You are guests in our home,” said Seroon, the zebra carrying the adorned rifle and, as it turned out, the closest the tiny settlement had to a leader. While not quite the oldest of the tribe, he was well up there in years, and it was impossible to miss the way the other zebras looked to him. “We should extend every hospitality we can.”

Despite the wariness he had shown at our sudden appearance, he was certainly a gracious host. While the tiny settlement had little in the way of comforts, he and a few other zebras laid out mats in the tiny central clearing for us to sit upon, and moments later, brought out food.

Dusty looked down at the plate that had been set before him. It was a decent meal of cooked meat and vegetables which, from what I could see, must have represented a significant portion of what the settlement had available. The younger zebra who set a similar plate before me was barely an adult, and from the prominence of his ribs, could have used the food far more than I could. I could tell from Dusty’s expression that he felt as uncomfortable as I did about taking food that these zebras clearly needed, and just as uncomfortable about any offense we might give by spurning the show of generosity.

“Hell, works for me,” Sickle said, already halfway through her own plate; bits of half-chewed food flew from her lips as she talked around a full mouth. “Shit’s pretty damn good, too!”

While Dusty shot her a scowl, I tried a diplomatic approach. “Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, smiling and nodding to Seroon. “I was wondering, would you permit us to offer you some gifts for your kindness?”

The question distracted him from Sickle’s poor table-manners. “It is generous of you to offer, but that is not necessary. We offer our hospitality freely to those who would come in peace into our home. We do not expect any physical reward.”

I was already opening my packs. Though they were not as bulging as when we had set out across the Hayseed Swamps, they still contained a substantial amount of food; the abundant and aggressive wildlife had at least provided a good deal of food to supplement that which we had brought with us. “I understand it is not necessary, but I’d still like to offer this,” I said as I pulled out several cans, bags, and boxes, including the package of dried fruits I had been saving. I set them before Seroon, smiling. “I’ve always believed that kindness brings kindness.”

I felt so very much like Emerald.

Seroon stared down at my offering, a silent war of emotions underway behind his expression. Finally, he sighed. “You remind me of my grandmother, young pegasus. She would say similar things. Our tribe has always strived to live up to those ideals.” He gently touched the package of dried fruits, and gave a slow, sad shake of his head. “But times have grown harsh. It becomes hard to believe in kindness when the world tries so hard to punish it.”

I held my smile. “And I would say that is when kindness is needed the most.”

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine, searching. It was several long, silent moments before his expression cracked, a faint smile showing. “It does seem to have worked well for you.” He drew in a deep breath and waved a hoof. “Please, excuse my melancholy. You are our guests, and deserve better. If times were more kind, I would never wish to bother you with our problems, but I feel as if the spirits of our ancestors must have brought about this meeting. The arrival of a kind-hearted band of warriors, capable of walking this poisoned land and braving the most fearsome beasts within it, it is too portentous to believe it to be chance. What fate has brought you here?”

Sickle snickered. “Kind-hearted, heh.” She elbowed Dusty in the side, while he scowled back and hushed her.

As for myself, I pondered how to reply. Starlight was looking to me, worried. Even Dusty chanced a glance my way. After all, we were here for me, so it seemed only fair that I be the one to decide how much to share.

I looked back to those expectant eyes and settled on my answer.

“I’m looking for my family,” I said. Seroon’s reaction was surprising. His eyes widened, his ears drooping; he looked as if he had just been told someone had died. I quickly continued. “There’s a company that had its regional headquarters in Baltimare. I believe the information there might help me find them.”

Seroon still looked stricken. “This… this family of yours,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet and hesitant. “Would they be a unicorn mare and earth pony stallion?”

I shook my head, giving a questioning look at the curious specificity of the question. “No, they were… like me.”

He let out a soft sigh, relaxing. “That is good to hear. Given the timing of your arrival, I… I feared the worst.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there were two ponies who used to live with us,” Seroon said. “They arrived a few years back, on a foundering boat. We took them in. I know our kind may have a reputation among ponies, but we have always been welcoming of anyone, regardless of their species. We’ve had many ponies live with us over the years, and many others, too.” He gestured to the griffon, who gave a happy nod. I don’t think she’d stopped grinning since we arrived, though she politely remained quiet as we talked. “Though I’m afraid they were the last. They were killed two months ago. When you said you were looking for your family, well…”

“Killed?” Starlight asked.

Seroon hesitated. Some of the other zebras exchanged glances, looking uncomfortable. A few others tensed, jaws tightening. “...Yes,” Seroon said. “We are not the only tribe in these lands. There is another. Long ago, we were kin, but now they see us only as their enemy. They drove us from our homes among the ancient towers and into the waiting claws and teeth of these swamps. There used to be many ponies in these lands, but they hunted them down relentlessly. I’m afraid you four are the only living ponies that remain.”

While I silently contemplated the situation, Starlight spoke again. “Why would they do that?”

“Because they were deceived,” Seroon said, his expression downcast. “They still see ponies as evil. Corrupt. They don’t see that it was our own leaders who succumbed to madness and brought about the will of the stars. They don’t see that our own people were as much the stars’ pawns as ponies were. They call themselves the Legion, claiming to still be soldiers of a dead nation, and they blame ponies for every wrong the world has suffered.”

We exchanged uneasy glances before I spoke again. “I’ve heard talk like that before,” I said. “Blaming all ponies for things done hundreds of years before they were born. I’m guessing from the look of things here that they consider you to share in that blame.”

Seroon gave a dry snort. “Our ancestors were comrades, once upon a time. Now they call us traitors for opening our eyes. Our tribe took in the ponies who emerged from their underground shelters, trying to build a better world. Their tribe tried to tear it all down, bringing the death and destruction the stars call for. Our friendship with the ponies of this land made our tribe strong, but they hid in the wilderness, slowly picking away at us before slipping away again. They are tenacious in their madness.”

He heaved a sigh, his head sinking. “We have tried to live a better life, to bring some light to the world. Our ancestors named our tribe The Dawnbringers. We would seek to end the nightmare of the stars, just as the dawn brings an end to the night. Now that light is on the verge of being extinguished.” He paused, then looked up, his expression full or caution. “So it is that I must humbly beg of you. Please, kind-hearted warriors. We need your help.”

I looked over to Dusty. He looked back for a moment, contemplating the situation, before speaking. “What did you have in mind?”

“We can’t continue on like this,” Seroon said, his voice weakening. “The swampclaws harass us relentlessly, and we have already lost several tribemates to their attacks. It’s only a matter of time until we can no longer mend these walls. The only refuge from their attacks is the safety of the ancient towers of the city, but we can not contest the Legion. They outnumber us manyfold, and have already killed most of our tribe.”

“How strong are they?” Dusty asked. “How many are we talking about.”

“A great number,” Seroon said. “A hundred, maybe more.”

Dusty gave a faint grimace. “And how many of them can fight?”

“All of them,” Seroon said, his tone grave. “They consider themselves to be soldiers, one and all. They live to fight. The only ones who can not fight are those who are too young or too old to carry a weapon.”

Dusty thought on that for several long seconds before looking at me again, his expression silently questioning.

“I hope you’re not wondering what I think you’re wondering,” I said to him, my ears folding back. “That’s a lot of zebras.”

Seroon was staring at me, his eyes appraising.

“But possible?” Dusty asked, and I sighed.

“Theoretically,” I said, slow and hesitant. More firmly, I added, “But it would be extremely dangerous. Slow, too. Even if we had all of our resources, it would be difficult, but I only have thirty rounds for my pistol and the single explosive charge. That’s not much to work with.” I shifted uncomfortably, feathered wings shuffling at my sides. “...Not to mention, that’s a lot of lives to take.”

Dusty looked thoughtful; I could practically see him sliding pieces into place as he worked out a plan.

As he did so, Seroon spoke up, his voice quiet. “You must be an incredibly dangerous pony.”

I blinked as I realized he had spoken to me.

Sickle laughed around a mouthful of food before speaking. “What, Whisper? Hah! Shit, I guess she is!” This only seemed to make her laugh harder.

“Not really,” I said, trying to ignore Sickle’s laughter. “More like… situationally dangerous, I guess.”

Seroon nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “You are an assassin.”

“No,” I quickly said, even as I thought of Big Gun and the not-quite Wild Runner. “...I just do a passable impression of one. Reluctantly. I prefer diplomatic solutions.”

“I understand,” he said. “I too would prefer another course, but the Legion seems determined to leave us no choice. We tried a diplomatic solution, after they drove us from the city. My predecessor went to reason with them. I know not what words were exchanged. We could only watch from a distance.” He grimaced. “They spoke for less than a minute before the Legion seized him, cut his throat, and dumped his body into the sea.”

I frowned, but nodded.

It was Dusty that spoke next. “How well armed is this Legion?”

“Well enough,” Seroon said. “They have at least twenty or thirty working rifles, and now they have all the emplaced guns our ancestors had scavenged from their ships. If they had any idea we had only two rifles, I imagine they would have come to finish us off for good, instead of leaving us for the swamp to devour.”

Dusty was slowly shaking his head. “I… I don’t know. It’s a bad situation.”

Seroon nodded, but I caught the subtle way his expression fell, and how his ears no longer stood quite so upright.

“We need to go into the city for our own business,” Dusty said, his eyes focused on the food he had still not touched. “We can at least get a closer look to appraise the situation. See what we’re facing.”

“Thank you for considering it,” Seroon said. “And I don’t intend to ask you to do this without compensation. I don’t know what we could offer you, but if it is within our means, you shall have it.”

Dusty gave a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Don’t worry about it.”

Seroon hesitated, then nodded again. “As you wish. Again, I’m sorry for disturbing this greeting with such talk. Please, eat. We can discuss this further once you have completed your search.” He turned to me. “And if there is anything we can do to help you find your family, you need only ask.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said. “Thank you.”

Seroon left us to eat, even stopping to divert the approaching griffon, who pouted before turning to climb the rickety watchtower once more. A zebra mare brought around a pitcher of water, but mostly, they kept their distance. I assumed they weren’t certain what to think of us. I saw many hopeful looks, chanced when they thought we weren’t looking, but they seemed wary of engaging with us.

Personally, I considered my lessons in practical psychology. The implications of their behavior left me even more hopeful that there was something we could do to help them. These were people on the verge of giving up hope.

Dusty quietly slid up to me. “Whisper, I’d like you to run some recon as soon as it gets fully dark. I’m not sure when the best time will be to move into the city, but I’d like to get some idea of what we’re walking into. Something we can start planning with.”

“Of course,” I said. “Let me finish eating, then I can head out. I can scope things out from a distance while there’s still light.”

“Sounds good,” Dusty said, turning to rummage through his bags. “About time we got around to getting these hooked up, too.”

He drew out one of our broadcasters, presenting it to me.

We spent a couple minutes setting up the broadcasters and testing that they worked. I was a little uneasy that they sent voice traffic in the clear, for anyone to listen in on. Dusty assured me that we wouldn’t be transmitting any sensitive data, and in any case, it was unlikely that anyone would be listening on the specific frequency we used, especially if we kept transmissions brief and to-the-point. I reluctantly agreed. Besides, the thought of coding up a real-time audio encryption spell that could interface between a PipBuck and a broadcaster was enough to give me a minor headache. It certainly wasn’t something I would be able to just slap together on the fly.

I finished up the last of the meal, which was actually quite good after a week of mostly old oats, and set out. I flew below the canopy, weaving my way between trees, until I reached the edge of the overgrown forest. A quick scan around revealed no hostile contacts on my E.F.S., so I settled in between the bushes, pressing forward enough to see out through the clearing ahead.

The land opened up as it led into what was once a teeming city. The ruins on the outskirts were small and crumbling, overgrown with vines and other plant-life. Those ended where the water of the bay had overcome the land. Only a few broken roofs pierced up through the water, leaving the bay dotted by tiny artificial reefs and islands until one finally reached the core of the city where the skeletons of ancient towers thrust high into the sky. Even after the megaspells and the centuries of wear, a dozen towers still stood like unyielding sentries.

I remained hiding, using the fading light to scope out the towers and approaches in my binoculars. What had looked like vines growing between the towers now showed to be bridges, cobbled together from cables, scrap metal, and other debris. While the windows of the great towers had long since been destroyed, many on the lower levels were now sealed over with scrap. More scrap, mostly signs and fallen trees, formed rickety walkways between the islands of rooftops, leaving a narrow and exposed path from the shore and the cluster of towers. Two similar paths crossed the gap on the other sides, and all ended in reinforced gates at one of the towers.

Walkways and wasteland fortifications overlooked those paths, with small clusters of zebras standing guard. I could see a pair of machine guns mounted in the lower levels of a tower beside the nearest path, and above the gate itself stood a turreted energy weapon. It must have been taken from one of the ships, and was fairly small for a cannon, but it would still make the entire approach a deathtrap.

Most of the construction seemed centered on the lower levels. There was a bit of construction along the top of the tallest tower, and a few bridges from it, but otherwise the activity seemed constrained to the first few floors. That made sense to me. There was no reason to climb high up in the tower if you didn’t have to, and even if they had well over a hundred zebras, they had a tremendous amount of living space in those towers.

After scanning over the towers some more and tracking a group of spear-and-rifle-armed zebras patrolling around the fortifications, I turned to my map. I had the address of the C.L.T. regional offices, thanks to the other facilities I had visited, and now that I could see the city clearly I could try to narrow it down further.

I located the submerged ancient streets on the map. The map gave the option to place a navigation marker, and I did so, with a similar mark appearing on my E.F.S. compass. Looking between the remaining towers and the map itself, I finally narrowed in on a mid-height tower, just to the west of the tallest tower and near the middle of them all. I only had to hope that they’d had their office in one of the upper levels.

The sky rapidly darkened. Somewhere, out past the western clouds, the sun had set. The gentle sea breeze rapidly turned icy, and dots of light started sparking from within the towers as the zebras lit fires and turned on lights. Almost all of them were in the lowest few levels, closest to the paths in and out. Only a single point of light shone from the tallest tower, flickering in the distance.

I waited another half-hour before closing my eyes and channeling my magic. When they opened again, they were the pupil-free eyes of a changeling, soaking in every bit of available light. With that, I rose up, spread my wings, and took to the air.

In the darkness, I was as good as invisible, while my eyes took in everything. From where I flew, roughly even with the middle of the towers, I could see how they all connected, the defenses over the approaches, and the gaps where they thought nobody could possibly come from. After all, they faced other zebras and ground-bound ponies. The sky and sea were safe.

I arced away, flying back towards Dawn.

I was descending toward the tiny settlement when faint flickers of light flashed beneath the canopy. A second later, the distant popping of gunfire reached my ears. I put on the speed, wings beating as I slapped the button on my broadcaster. “Dusty? What’s going on? I hear shooting!”

There was two seconds of gut-wrenching silence before my earbud crackled and Dusty’s distorted voice came from it. “Situation’s under control”, he said, his voice muffled, presumably from the grip of his rifle. “What’s your position?”

“I’m flying in right now,” I replied. “I’ll be there in twenty seconds.”

“Copy. Come in high, stay clear of the fire.”

“You got it.”

As I came in over the trees, I saw the swampclaw staggering away from the broken palisade. Dusty was methodically putting rounds down-range as it started to lope away.

A blinding flash of red dazzled my vision, and I swerved, suddenly disoriented. I quickly reverted my minor alteration, regaining a bit of vision as I leveled out.

Dusty had released his rifle, supporting the muzzle with one hoof. “Friendly coming in high!” he shouted, then repeated the call. Even with his warning, a couple of the zebras jerked and spun my way as I landed before realizing who I was.

Past him, through the ruined gap in the palisade, I could see the swampclaw lying some fifty yards away, while the last of the red embers cast off by Starlight’s shot faded around it. It let out a pained bellow, clawing at the ground with vicious foreclaws, while its hindlegs and tail remained still. A deep chunk of its lower back had been burnt away by the shot.

The resident griffon bound up to the teetering platform beside the wall, grinning widely. “Holy crap!” she called out, in a surprisingly high voice. “You weren’t kidding about that thing.”

Starlight was calmly walking up to the gap in the wall, swapping the dull crystal from her Lancer with a fresh, faintly glowing one. “I’m still annoyed that these things are so durable. I’ve taken out power armors with less difficulty than these things.”

“Took it down with one hit,” the griffon cheerfully observed. “Cut the spine. It’s dead, it’s just too stubborn to know it! Cool!”

“Yeah, well…” Starlight shut the chamber of her Lancer, leveling it again. There was another flash and crack, and half the swampclaw’s head vaporized. “I’d rather make it clean instead of… that.”

“Killing ain’t clean,” Sickle rumbled as she walked up to the gap. There was a fresh cut in the plating across her chest but no blood. “‘Sides, probably be boring if it was.”

Starlight scowled. “Can still kill without making ‘em suffer. That just isn’t right.”

Dusty dropped his rifle to its sling, and nodded to the wall. “We need to get that hole patched up.”

“Don’t worry,” the griffon said, turning from Starlight. “We’ll get it all fixed up nice and quick. I don’t think they’ll be quite so eager now that you lot killed one of ‘em!”

“Eh, let ‘em come,” Sickle said, grinning under her muzzle. “These fucks are kinda fun.”

“We’ve got a job to do,” Dusty said. “I’d like to make sure their defenses are going to hold while we take care of that.”

“It’ll be fine,” the griffon said with a cheery grin.

Seroon caught our attention as he walked up. “She is right,” he said, slowly slinging his trinket-adorned rifle across his back. “The swampclaws are aggressive, but patient. They take their time. We will not see another attack before morning.”

“Are you sure?” Dusty asked, his expression concerned.

“Sure enough,” Seroon replied with a nod. “And if they were to return earlier, we can hold them off, even if I have to spend the last of our ammunition. We will survive until you return.”

“Yeah,” the griffon said, and turned her grin to me. “And you better come back, too! Starlight was telling me stories, and I’ll bet you’ve got some good ones! Oh!” She bound forward, offering her talons in a friendly gesture. “I’m Bloodbeak.” She immediately rolled her eyes, chuckling. “Don’t mind the name. It’s a griffon thing.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” I said as I offered my hoof, and we shook.

“Good!” she said, then gave me a firm pat on the shoulder. “Now go find your family.”

Eventually Dusty led us off to the side, while several half-awake zebras patched up the wall. “So,” he said, sitting before me. “How’s it look?”

“The Legion they spoke of is holed up in the towers that were the heart of Baltimare,” I said in a quiet voice, and sat down as well. “It’s well-fortified, with a few narrow and exposed paths watched over by emplaced weapons. The towers themselves are connected by bridges a few levels up. I may not be well-experienced in tactics, but it seemed to me like it would be an extremely defensible position. On the plus side, their activity seems concentrated around the lower levels, and they have to use those same exposed paths to get out of their territory. I didn’t see any boats.”

Dusty grunted, slowly shaking his head. “Sounds bad. How about the C.L.T. offices?”

“I found the building,” I said. “A tower, about halfway into their territory. I have no idea what level it’s on. I’d have to go in to find it, and I wanted to at least talk with you first.”

“Good,” Dusty said. “I’d prefer to not send you in alone, if possible. Did you find a way in?”

“The easiest way in is flying into the middle levels of the tower, but that isn’t really an option for all of you.” I frowned. “And the front door is obviously out.”

“Makes me miss Vulture,” Dusty said. “Seems like a perfect time for a roof insertion. She’s not exactly subtle, though.”

Starlight gave a soft snicker. “We could hear that contraption from a few miles away.”

“A skywagon might work, though,” Dusty said. “I know there are wrecks all over the place back around Mareford. Baltimare must have had a few. If we’ve got a pegasus, we should take advantage of it.”

“Key word there: wrecks.” Starlight shook her head. “Half of them fell out of the sky when the megaspells went off and the others have been rusting and picked apart for centuries. There aren’t any pegasi below the clouds, so nopony ever had a use for them. A working skywagon is probably more rare than a working motorwagon. Even if we did find one I could fix up, I have no idea how long it’d take to get it working.”

Dusty frowned, thinking for a moment. “Is there any other way to get us in?”

Starlight hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe a boat? This was a harbor city, right? Must be some boats still around, and that should be an easy patch job.”

“It also has us going in where the zebras are the most dense,” I pointed out.

“Oh no,” Sickle said with an exaggerated roll of her head. “We might have to kill some of the zebras we have to kill anyway.”

“A hundred-plus zebras is too much for us to fight,” Dusty said. “We might be able to take on the zebras in our way, but it takes just one loud noise or one little mistake for all of them to come pouring in, and we die.”

Sickle shrugged. “Eh, I think we can take ‘em. Can’t be any worse than thirty mercs, and Whimper took them out all on her own.”

“How many are in the building?” Starlight asked, and I shook my head.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Given the number of towers and the number of zebras, I’d guess less than twenty, but it could be quite a bit more. It’s one of the smaller towers, but there’s still a lot of room on the levels they’re occupying, so it could be more. I’d have to get closer and count markers to get a better idea.”

Dusty was looking off into space and slowly shaking his head. “Inserting by boat is a possibility, but I don’t like it. We can cut the bridges, but that would only delay reinforcements. It still leaves a lot of zebras between us and our goal, and getting out on a boat would be much too exposed if they’re alert and shooting at us.”

“Still better than a skywagon we don’t have,” Starlight said with a frown.

“I don’t think we’re all getting in,” I said. “I know, you probably won’t like the idea, but unless we can find and patch up a skywagon before dawn, we don’t have a way to get all of you safely in and out of that tower.”

Dusty mulled it over for several seconds before slowly shaking his head. “I know you’re the one with all the stealth and infiltration training, so I’ll leave the final call up to you, Whisper. I just don’t like the idea of you going into an area like that on your own. You remember what happened at Paradise Beach.”

“Flying away wasn’t an option for me back then,” I said. “It is now. Still, I’d rather have Starlight there. It’s very unlikely that any servers are still powered and running, and while I could probably get them working again, she’s much more experienced at that. I can’t carry all of you, but I can carry her there and back.”

Starlight cocked her head to the side, eyes distant. “Huh. That could be cool. I’ve never really gone flying before. I mean, there was the time you lifted me into the wagon, but that was like five feet. That doesn’t count.”

Dusty slowly nodded. “I suppose that might work.”

“And it leaves you and Sickle free to help defend Dawn,” I noted.

“It does,” Dusty said. “Though I’m thinking we might be able to support you some. Or at least, I can.” He uncovered his PipBuck, switching to the map screen. “Which tower are you going to?”

I pointed it out, and he pointed to the shore on the opposite side. “Then I’ll set up here. If you need a distraction, give me a call on your broadcaster. I’ll draw their attention my way so you can get out.”

Sickle snorted. “And I get to sit on my ass being bored while you cunts do the fun stuff. Wonderful.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll find another swampclaw for you to fight or something.”

“Eh.” Sickle shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“If we’re going to do this,” I said, “we should do it soon. I don’t even know what level the C.L.T. offices are on, and if there isn’t a directory listing anywhere, that means we’ll have to search the entire tower.”

Starlight nodded. “And if they’re down where the zebras are?”

“If that’s the case, we’ll have to come up with a plan to deal with that situation,” I said. “Even if it means backing out and coming back later.”

“I still don’t like how much of a disadvantage we’re working under,” Dusty said, “but unless Seroon knows of a skywagon in good condition, it sounds like this might be our best option for getting it done.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not.

Starlight and I approached the bay from the west, nearest to our destination. We kept a keen eye on our E.F.S. display for threats, but the wildlife seemed to steer clear of us.

We traveled light. Our bags were almost empty, carrying only the tools we might need and a single healing potion each. Despite that, we still carried our weapons. It was like a stark, physical reminder of what could happen if we were discovered.

We slipped out from the treeline and between the ruins of old buildings, overgrown and crumbling, while ancient rubble crunched quietly under our hooves. Most of the structures were so decayed that they would offer no real shelter, but supplied plenty of shadows to hide a lurking pony or zebra. Even with our E.F.S., we stayed alert.

Several tense minutes later, we reached a long line of debris, mostly wood and other light materials. It was the high-water mark, and several yards beyond it, the water of the bay lapped lightly at the cracked road. The street beyond was completely flooded, leaving a canal between the ruined buildings. In the gloom of the night, they perfectly framed the nearest tower, still a quarter of a mile away.

We crouched behind a weather-worn driftwood log. “Check your gear,” I whispered. Several seconds were spent checking the straps on bags and weapons, securing pouches, and otherwise ensuring nothing would be lost or rattle during our flight. PipBuck maps were consulted one final time before turning off their screens. Finally, I pressed at my earbud, ensuring it was seated securely in my ear, and raised my hoof to my mouth.

“Radio check,” I murmured into the broadcaster. “Dusty, do you hear us?”

The reply came a couple of seconds later, only slightly distorted. “I read you loud and clear,” Dusty said.

Starlight raised her own PipBuck. “How about me?”

“Loud and clear,” Dusty repeated.

“Okay,” I said, heaving a slow, deep breath, and exhaled. “Let’s get hooked up.”

Starlight’s horn lit up, her magic lifting the crude harness of weapon slings and belts. While she remained crouched, I stepped over her, and she fastened the harness around the pair of us. It took only a few seconds. “Okay, give it a test.”

I stood up as high as I could, her weight bearing down on the straps across my shoulders and back. A quick pump of my wings gave the whole thing a good shake, but it held snug.

Starlight shook faintly. For a moment, I thought it was nerves. Then I realized she was trying not to laugh.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“Sorry, sorry,” Starlight said, unable to help snickering quietly. “I’m just really glad Sickle isn’t around right now to get the wrong idea about this.”

I was suddenly very aware of her back pressing snugly against my chest and belly, with her tail right between my hind-legs. “I suppose this is a somewhat compromising position.”

Her snickering grew, and she quickly shook her head. “Sorry. Serious mode now. Focusing. Right.”

I chuckled softly, giving a gentle nuzzle at the back of her neck, then turned to my broadcaster again. “Okay, Dusty. We’re heading in now.”

“Copy that,” Dusty replied. “Update me when you’re hooves-down, and good luck.”

“Will do,” I said, and lowered the PipBuck again. “You ready for this?”

Starlight’s expression tightened up, and she gave a firm, determined nod.

My wings beat, lifting the weight from my hooves. I hovered just long enough to wrap my forelegs firmly around Starlight’s barrel, then began my ascent.

We cleared the rooftops, slowly arcing away to keep our distance as I gained altitude. Starlight tensed, but remained silent, her head twisting to look around. I could see our destination clearly, the tower rising some twenty floors above the waterline. I set my sights on the middle of the tower, several levels above where the Legion had built up. I continued to climb until we drew even with it, and then continued on just a little higher.

Once I judged our altitude to be high enough, I banked in. My beating wings stilled as I entered a glide, giving the muscles a much-needed break. We closed quickly, while I balanced speed with altitude, aiming for the gaping holes that had once been windows.

We sailed into the darkness, and I quickly back-winged, cutting our speed and coming to a halt just as our hooves touched the ground. Bits of debris crunched underhoof once more. Once we had stopped, everything fell into complete silence, save for the soft moan of the sea breeze and the occasional faint groan of the ancient tower.

My E.F.S. was filled with hostile contacts in every direction. I silently cursed the two-dimensional mentality behind its design. Clearly, there hadn’t been many pegasi on the design team.

I undid the harness, freeing Starlight. Once I stepped away, she stood, panting softly, legs trembling. I was worried until she turned to me, her smile beaming in the darkness, and quietly hissed, “That was awesome!”

I had to suppress a laugh, despite the adrenaline already burning at my nerves. I quickly held a hoof up to my grin, signaling for quiet, and she nodded, taking a seat to catch her breath.

While she did so, I raised my PipBuck, whispering quietly into it. “Dusty, we’re in.”

A hint of static overlapped his voice. “Copy. Update me if anything comes up. I’ve got eyes on the area. I’ll let you know if I see any activity.”

I lowered my hoof again, tucking in the loose straps of the harness as I looked around. The space we landed in might have been an open workspace at some point, or perhaps a large meeting room. Whatever it had been, now it stood completely vacant save for the detritus of fallen and crumbling ceiling panels and the glittering pebbles of glass. The entire interior of the tower had been mostly open, with at least half of the walls being floor-to-ceiling windows. Their remains lay scattered about in dull fragments that were more dangerous as a source of noise than potential injury.

“Okay,” I whispered as I moved in close to Starlight. “This is more your area of expertise. Where can we find what floor C.L.T. is on?”

She rose to her hooves, hiding her grin again. “Right. We need a directory. Main lobby is out, so we should find the elevators. They usually have a basic directory. That should tell us what’s on the current level, at least.”

I nodded. “Lead the way.”

We carefully picked our way through the debris on the floor, working our way toward the center of the building. Soon, we were far enough in that Starlight turned her PipBuck screen on again, its faint green glow much more subtle than the harsh light of our flashlights.

Her tail flicked against me as she came to a halt. We’d reached the end of a hall, which opened into a small lobby. The doors of two elevators opened into vacant shafts along one of the walls, while the broad greeting desk opposite them stood in decaying silence, warped and ruined by centuries of sea air.

After a moment to look around the room, Starlight stepped forward, and we got to searching. She first went to a placard by the elevators themselves, while I went to the desk. In addition to open drawers with decayed papers, there was a terminal, its case pitted with corrosion. Naturally, the power button didn’t work. I turned to shuffling through the papers until Starlight got there.

She slipped up close to me when she returned. “I could barely read the sign,” she whispered, “but C.L.T. isn’t on this level.”

“See if you can get the terminal up,” I whispered in reply. “This was probably a secretary’s station. Maybe they’ll have something.”

“On it!” She slipped around behind the terminal, prying off the back of the case while I continued searching through the papers. Most were illegible. I gave up when she finally got the terminal working. It continually complained about a lack of connection to the server, while I skimmed through what little data it contained.

To our relief, one of the files was a building directory, and I smiled as the name Crystal Life Technologies popped up. “There we go. Floor eight.” I scrolled up. “And we’re on… floor fourteen.” I frowned, running the math and trying to recall the exact layout I had seen from the air. “I think that’s one floor up from the built-up area.”

“Oh,” Starlight said, grimacing. “Wonderful.”

She led us around until we found the stairs, and we slowly made our way down. As we neared the lower levels, we traded places; I led, pistol ready, while she trailed just behind me. We stepped slow and careful, producing hardly a sound.

We reached the door to floor eight. I took a slow, deep breath, readying myself. Then I cracked the door open, slowly opening a tiny sliver to peer through. Only darkness met me. With a brief moment of relief, I opened the door, and we slipped through, letting it shut quietly behind us.

It was easy to find the C.L.T. regional offices, with the name emblazoned in badly faded and flaking letters above the doors. We silently made our way in, overly conscious of every faint sound we made. I knew, intellectually, that the thick floors of a high-rise tower should muffle anything we do, short of throwing around furniture or gunshots, but every little click of hooves or tiny crunch of crumbling debris made me fear some keen zebra ear detecting our presence.

Once we were in and the door was closed, Starlight leaned in close, whispering in a barely audible voice. “Okay, we’re here. What exactly are we looking for?”

“Anything that would have a list of C.L.T. facilities in the region,” I whispered back. “Shipping data, company registries, mailing lists, anything like that.”

She nodded, and we got to searching.

The offices were in even worse condition than those above. Anything wooden was halfway rotten through after the years in the sea air, and most things made of metal were badly corroded. Desk after desk turned up nothing but decaying, water-bleached papers, all illegible. Many desks held terminals, their cases badly corroded, sometimes so badly that you could see the internals of the devices. We ignored them; if the papers turned up nothing useful, as proved the case, there was a better place to look for digital data.

The server had been somewhat protected from the elements by the room it was in, but it had still fared poorly over the years. The outside was pitted and stained. I had to hope the inside hadn’t corroded.

“Think you can get it powered up?” I whispered.

“Maybe.” Starlight paced around it, eventually turning to a device at the back of the room. “It’s got a backup power source, but it looks shot. Not sure how long my batteries would last.”

“If you can get it up and running, I can copy everything over to my PipBuck.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking more closely at the server itself. “Still, I’m having flashbacks of Paradise Beach.”

“I doubt there are any power generators to kick on,” I noted. “Still… maybe you can disconnect it from external power?”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” she whispered with a nod. “Okay. Give me a few minutes. Let’s see what I can do.”

She spent several minutes prying apart the backup power system, disconnecting power leads and testing connections. She pulled out and spliced wires, probed leads, and finally brought out one of her own spark batteries, hooking it up to the rewired system. She paused, the last wire hovering just over the battery. “I have no idea how loud this will be.”

I looked up from my PipBuck, already connected to the server. “If it’s too loud, pull the battery, and I’ll fly us out. We can always come back later and pull the hardware out. Might be a pain to access the data, but it’s an option.”

She nodded, then looked back to her work. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

The wire connected with a soft pop, and the backup power system thumped, then hummed, a green light flickering to life on its side. A moment later, the server gave a long, quiet beep as lights lit up, followed by the quiet whine as the device came to life. The screen of my PipBuck flashed as data streamed across the cable.

Starlight sighed in relief. “So far, so good.”

“Well done,” I said, watching the boot sequence progressing. “Stand lookout. This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, but we don’t want any surprises.”

“You’ve got it,” she said with a quick nod, and slipped off to the front of the offices.

The server was not a happy, healthy machine, but it struggled to life. It was an older Stable-Tec brand, and those ponies evidently made things to last. After two centuries in salty, humid conditions, the primary hardware still functioned. Better yet, C.L.T. had shown foresight in their server hardware. While the system reported the failure of fully half of the data storage systems, redundancy meant that all the data was still intact.

I initiated a transfer, copying over the contents of the server’s drives; looking at the tiny PipBuck hooked up to the giant server, it was hard not to reflect on how much computers had advanced in just a decade. Part of me wondered where we would be now, had the megaspells never happened.

While the files transferred, I started looking over what was there. Mostly, it was records of messages sent across various C.L.T. sites. I would have skimmed over the entire directory and continued on, but a single word in one of the subjects caught my attention.

Serenity.

I glanced over at the file transfer. There were still a few minutes remaining. I opened the message.

Skyfrost,

Despite the progress that has been made, I’m afraid we can’t give Permafrost the kind of prioritization you’re asking for. We do appreciate the strides your team has made, but we’re still too far from a feasible product. Yes, the tests have shown great promise, but the role body mass plays in survival rates is far too dramatic to expect ponies to accept. Ponies aren’t going to care if we claim that the data shows the process to be completely safe for infants or small pets. They’re going to see the projected double-digit mortality rates among full-grown subjects and decide that, if it’s not safe for them, it’s clearly too dangerous for their foals. You know how protective parents can be.

Meanwhile, Sweetdreams has produced a viable alternative, and one that’s passed every safety test. It’s something we can deliver now, and it’s been subsidized by the ministries. If we’re going to compete with Stable-Tec, we need a product that ponies can trust, and that means as few doubts as possible. Because of that, and because of the state of the world we live in, we have to shift our focus to rapid implementation of Sweetdreams. It’s not only the best choice for both projects, it’s our best shot at helping as many ponies as quickly as possible.

Please, don’t think that we’re sidelining your project. Permafrost has shown great progress, and if the mortality issues can be rectified, it promises great improvements over the Sweetdreams project. This is a purely temporary matter; getting Sweetdreams up and running will expand our resources and allow us to commit more heavily in Permafrost.

If that’s not reassuring enough, I can offer a tidbit that hasn’t been circulated yet: with the Serenity collaboration nearing completion, and with Stable-Tec’s lead designer incorporating our technology into the Ministry-led Single Pony Project, Stable-Tec has opened the possibility of direct collaboration between our companies. We’re very close to working together as partners, rather than competitors. While Serenity insisted upon strict confidentiality agreements for their project, Stable-Tec has said they see their own involvement as a proof-of-concept of licensed and collaborative projects. For all of Stable-Tec’s expertise in construction and protective structures, the Stables will only ever be a refuge for a tiny, privileged percent of ponies. Now imagine all those Stables incorporating our life-sustaining technologies. Think of how many lives we could save, should the worst come to pass.

Permafrost is not in any danger of being shut down or sidelined. It carries far too much promise for that. Keep up the good work, and by next fiscal year, we should be well on the way to increasing your funding well above its previous levels.

Respectfully,
Gleaming Facet, C.E.O.

I closed the message, disappointed. Serenity was hardly even mentioned, and it told me nothing I hadn’t known before about that name.

But the message did contain one thing of interest, tucked away in the file data. After following a short trail of digital breadcrumbs, I tracked back to find the message sorting matrix, and from there, it was a short hop to find the company’s entire routing information, both digital and physical.

I had the location of every C.L.T. installation in the world.

Smiling, I raised my hoof and whispered into my broadcaster. “We’ve got what we came for.”

Static overlaced Dusty’s voice in my earbud. “Good to hear. I’m not seeing any activity out here. Come on back.”

Starlight slipped into the room. “You found it?” she whispered as she huddled in close.

“Yep,” I said, watching the transfer for the final few seconds. The moment it stopped, I pulled my cables and turned the screen off. “Kill the power, then let’s get out of here.”

“Sure thing!”

While I stowed the cables, Starlight pulled a single wire, and with a plaintive beep, the server powered down.

With that, we headed back the way we came, eager to leave. We backtracked to the stairwell, cracked open the door, and slipped in.

The door had just shut when another opened somewhere below, and the sound of hooves echoed softly in the narrow space. Two options immediately presented themselves: hide and hope they didn’t come up to where we were, or continue up the stairs to get away and hope they didn’t hear our movement.

I pressed Starlight back into the corner of the landing and crouched before her, drawing my pistol. My ears stood perked, listening intently, hoping for the hooves to grow more distant.

They didn’t. I waited, my pistol leveled. With Starlight’s PipBuck hidden and mine turned off, the stairwell was pitch black until a soft light rose from below, casting feeble, dancing shadows across the wall. It was barely enough to silhouette my pistol’s sights. I aligned them as carefully as I could, and waited. The single set of hooves slowly drew closer.

The exotic mane of a zebra poked into view, followed by the rest of him. The light flared in my eyes. He held a lantern in his teeth, the flickering flame casting off a week, warm light. A rifle lay across his back.

As his lead hoof stepped onto the landing, I engaged S.A.T.S. Two sharp cracks, like a hammer on rock, echoed in the chamber, and the zebra made a grunt of surprise, twisting and dropping the lantern as he fell to his side.

I was already up and advancing, the soft glow of Starlight’s PipBuck lighting the room as the lantern’s flame guttered and died. The zebra lay on his side gasping, his forehooves alternately scratching at the ground or clutching at his chest. I’m not sure if he recognized my presence. He was still alive, but he was out of the fight.

I lined up and put a single round into his head. The zebra stiffened and went still.

I immediately stepped back, keeping my pistol leveled. “Starlight,” I said around the bit, keeping my voice quiet. “Magic. Grab him.”

“W-what?” she said, her wide eyes jerking away from the body to look at me. “Why?”

“We’re bringing him with us,” I said. “We need to hide the body for as long as possible.”

She hesitated, but her horn lit up, and with a grunt of effort, lifted the zebra’s body. She held it at a distance as we climbed the stairs. I could tell she was uncomfortable with her gruesome cargo, but she did what she had to.

When we reached the level we had entered from, I had her set his body down in a small closet well away from the stairs. We stripped him of his rifle and its single magazine of ammunition before shutting the door.

Starlight looked to me. I could still see the discomfort in her eyes, but she nodded. She understood.

At the edge of the building, we strapped ourselves together and stepped out through the window, gliding silently away in the night.

“So, what’ve you got?”

I sat beside Dusty, in the center of Dawn, and brought my PipBuck-clad hoof up. “I looked through every C.L.T. installation in the region. Mostly it’s clinics and some administrative offices, nothing that would be useful to my family.” I didn’t want to be too specific with so many ears around. “There were a total of five research and testing sites in the region, if you include Serenity as one. Paradise Beach was another. That leaves the three experimental sites. We’ve been to Alpha.” I flipped to the map. “Beta is here,” I said, pointing to a spot well west of Rust, then moving to point to another spot just south of Mareford. “And Gamma is here.”

“I think I know that Gamma place,” Dusty said, switching to his own PipBuck. “Rangers were called in to hit some bandits operating out of some ruins right about there. Looked like it had been some lab. There was a sealed section, had been shut for decades, maybe since the war. That was… almost ten years ago, I think.”

I frowned. Being known increased the chance that someone had already gotten in there. “And you didn’t open it?”

“No need,” Dusty said. “Like I said, had been shut for years. We were just there to clean out the bandits, and they obviously weren’t in there. We filed a report, but I doubt anypony investigated further. There’s enough in Dodge City to keep the salvage teams occupied without trekking days out into the desert.”

I nodded. “Well… hopefully nobody else came along to disturb it.” I set my hoof down again. “So we know where to go. That just leaves the question of what we’re going to do here.”

“Yeah,” Dusty grumbled, shaking his head. “That’s the question, ain’t it? I don’t like it. Fighting the Legion seems like a losing bet.”

“I can pick them off from a literal mile away,” Starlight said, shifting her Lancer on its sling for emphasis.

“Yeah, you could do some damage,” Dusty agreed, though without any cheer. “And Whisper could pick some off at night. Still… Whisper’s right about how long it’ll take. This isn’t a fight we’re going to win. Not quick enough to save these folk.”

“So what are we going to do?” Starlight asked.

“Right now?” Dusty shrugged. “Right now, I’m going to sleep. In the morning… I’m going to have to ask Seroon to make a difficult decision.”

The morning sun rose on the horizon, casting a brilliant glow across the sea and the underside of the clouds. It was a beautiful sight, and as we gathered for a shared breakfast, many of the zebras paused to look out at the colorful scene.

Seroon, however, looked concerned over Dusty’s plan. “Why would you ask this?”

“Because I’m afraid I don’t see any other options,” Dusty said. “Even if we were able to track down and kill every single swampclaw in the entire swamp, the Legion would still have to be dealt with. We can pick them off at range, and we can infiltrate behind their lines to take out some more, but that’s the kind of thing that agitates folks. Most likely, all we’d do is provoke them into attacking sooner rather than later. We can hurt them, but we wouldn’t win that fight. I hate to say it, but if you stay here, it’s going to end badly for you.”

Seroon’s ears had fallen. “To abandon our home again…”

“I know it’s hard,” Dusty said. “Hell, I know just how hard it is, but sometimes…” He sighed. “As long as you’re alive, you can always make a new home.”

Seroon slowly looked around at the huts and patched walls that surrounded us. The silence lingered for several long seconds before he spoke again. “We have already been forced from our homes once by the Legion.” His eyes fixed on Dusty. “Our ancestors were stranded here, to never again see the land of their childhood. They forged a new home here, because events forced them to… and because a home is more than simply a patch of land.”

He solemnly nodded. “If you can lead us safely through the swamps, we will follow.”