Fallout Equestria: Transient

by SunnyDontLook

First published 27th of February, 2016

The Wasteland is exactly that, but on a continent far away things are brewing. While Equestria is so burned as to be considered gone, Equestria's embers glow brighter each day: Among these coals of what once was, a Transient arrives.

The Continent of Sall'han, half a world away. In Sall'han the skies are blue and clear, and sunlight strikes with unequine intensity. This place was spared the holocaust of the bombs, and it's now a place where civilization is rebuilding, quickly. Sall'han is isolated by an ocean, and within, a sea of sand, a wasteland even before the dark skies. For now, these disparate civilizations are separated by sand. This will not last. When these black spots on a very large map become filled, what will occur? What are the odd transmissions coming from a place unassailable? And what's the deal with the natives with the guns, and the death wish and the cultural identities?
No one knows.
In the midst of this time of discovery, a strange pony arrives, a Transient.

Written by, Sunnydontlook. Edited by myself.
(Formally, Dekkonot, Liefsong, Isiah, and QuitStallinAround.)

Steeped In Steel (I)

Someone -I forgot their name almost as soon as I learned it- had decided that Equestria needed another front. We had been sent out here to set up watch over those who set up derricks and storage facilities. That nasty black crap that leaked out of the ground… the locals would have given it to us… I think. But if you have an army resting on their laurels, and weakened governments to topple, why ask for mineral rights?

Resource extraction. Even as the world darkened, as crops died and fields went fallow for want of planters. That aspect didn’t die with the rest. We didn’t die with the rest. As I, Icepick, Knight Second Class, watched the native Saddle Arabians bring their “resource compensation” to our lorries, I let my thoughts wander. This was the third settlement on this patrol that had been attacked by raiders in the last two months.

A look to the east or west would give the impression that these people were living in a golden sea. However, if you looked to the north, you’d see the Gilache River, nevermind the gunboat I had ridden on. The boat was a poor excuse for a warship, but rockets and mortars would tear their hovels into the same sand they were surrounded by in only minutes. We wouldn’t do that. We only asked for ten percent of their grain, and if the people who harried them showed themselves, we wouldn’t hesitate to meet them in the field. As sure as clockwork, the wind tore across the town. Gritty sand would erode anything in time. I turned my face to look at my fellow Knight who, was barking orders to the villagers.

“Ironsight, did they tell you anything we didn’t already know about the raiders?” My voice got her attention. Nearly two meters of steel turned to face me. Ironsight had barked a final word of Arabic to the village leader. The leader gave a negative reply before hurrying back into his home of dirt. Tonight would be cold, and it’d be windy- I could feel it in my bones.

“He said that they came out of the glare of the sun, and apparently, they were packing some heat along with the normal blades and bows.” She replied slowly. She wasn’t a bad knight, hell, by how she was moving up the chain of command, she might have been better than me, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass about the people we supposedly protected. I still counted her as a friend; another mare about the same age as me, with a hot brother. Maybe I didn’t know what a friend was.

Ehh, It’s whatever. That was my motto.

“Did he give a direction?” The sun was nearly down. Light amplification and that huge reflector people called the moon would be enough if I got the information I needed.

“To the southwest, towards the mesa. The tracks were in the sand. You can’t be thinkin-”

“They’ve been fucking with these people for too long. We can’t just sit on our armoured asses taking things because they can’t stop us.” I cut her off. She could rationalize burning this village down and selling the occupants as chattel, and all it would take was a whisper from a higher-up. I was a lot of things, am a lot of things. “Sandstorm and Darude, they’ll go with me. They were a day behind us right?”

“Fuck, Icepick, get it through your skull. You’re not going to find them. Sand rats know how to hide, especially at night.”

“Was that a yes?” I glared through a bullet-proof visor.

“Ice, I love you like a sister, better than my sister, actually. Just give it up. All the desert holds is plenty of sand to sink into, and it doesn’t help that you're as dense as you are.”

“File the reports. Two knights and an initiate aren’t a huge paper pile, or a huge loss.” I said before turning around. It didn’t matter that my Knight Third Class and my initiate were both as green as the Everfree.

The crunch of sand compacting under me was better than hearing her talk. You could always count on sand to be slippery. I didn’t want the last ember of Equestria to be the same. At the end of that day, I realized that I was protecting those who extracted life from the river bank, and, with any luck, I’d be extracting blood from thieves.

War, war never changes. They say. I say: It’s whatever.

The march back to our headquarters was an actual march.

By the time we made it back to where the gunboat had stopped, the village was in the throes of its evening activity. When the sun went down, they laid on their mattresses. The Sallish people gave us strange looks as we entered; they hadn’t expected us to survive. The three of us, with partially depleted spark reactors and lighter bags walked to their well at the center of the housing. All three of us wanted that water- we had ran dry on our way back. I let them decide who got the first taste.

So, as we entered, the masses of farmers decided we were a spectacle. A mirage made into life, perhaps. The one who had spoken to Ironsight before I left came to me. My mind reeled with the effort of thinking coherently after losing so much water; the tongue through which I would normally speak was thick and uncooperative even as I swished it around my mouth.

I shifted my weight to my right side and pulled the hook and loop on a flap open. With a single, jerky motion I dropped the Raider leader’s head onto the ground. Those who saw it first yelled something excitedly. It wasn’t the reluctant tone that had accompanied the entire exchange with them a week back. No, the tone was pleasant, pleasant surprise. Honestly, the smell of it would have overpowered me if not for the rebreather in the suit. I couldn’t speak their language, but the recognizable skull of a foe is as universal as communication gets.

“Ice, they’re calling you the oathkeeper. And Sandstorm and I: we’re the swords of the oathkeeper,” Darude the Knight said from behind me. I turned to face him. In his hoof was a canteen. The grab was automatic, same as the motion to remove my helmet. Water: best thing in the world for not dying. I could hear Initiate Sandstorm talking with that same leader in words that were incredibly incomprehensible to me.

“Darude, don’t let Sand lie to them. We both know you’re the sheath and he’s the sword. I can kinda hear it some - all - nights.” I relied after swallowing more than the recommended amount of water.

“Knowing you, not knowing you knowing you, you probably rub one out when you hear us.” His voice cracked as he said this. He really wasn’t wrong. If it wasn’t windy in the desert, the sound carried pretty well.

“It’s mostly you making the noise.” Out of the two stallions, he was the bottom and the moaner. It was hot. Not the only reason I chose them to go along and not just because they didn’t mind if I voyeured a little. Darude carried a HUD integrated scoped rifle.

“You wanna keep that title, right? We had an oath.” He said in a high pitched tone for humour's sake. I moved right past him, letting my armoured tail drag along his side as I passed by.

As the night wore on, I found myself asleep on a bed of straw next to an open fire with a smoke hole. They had fed me some black bread and cheese, along with some watered beer. These people had hidden away a lot of their total stored food away when we came. Now, after a single enemy of the people had rolled in the dirt… they were treating us. The three of us were given enough provisions to make it back to the river mouth.

All for a fight that had been won with ease. A few slugs aimed at their band’s leadership was enough to bring them to the brink of surrender. A few more slugs were enough to carry out the field executions. The bit where we sawed the head off of a pony had been done with one of their own utility knives. Obsidian blades could cut deeply and quickly. I had taken it from the leader. A leather sheath strapped to my barrel kept it within reach.

After pulling it out, I just looked at it. The way it became more transparent near the edges caught my eye every time I saw it. Transparency was what it was because of the thickness of the night glass. If I could find a mirror of this stuff… would it reflect?

The blade was rough, the fire next to me was hot, and the feeling of loneliness was palpable. It was a genuine march, a Warrior’s March.

And never let anyone tell you otherwise: we are what we do.

Our trek back to our base took a long enough that we were eating crumbs near the end. Otherwise, there were no issues; just hot days which we slept through, and nights in which the three of us could have been the last people around. I could hear the two of them talking about how they’d explain their choice to go with me, and how they would brag about fighting the sand and those that hid in it. They didn’t mind when I got a half mile ahead of them. In those moments I could believe that I was just a mare walking beside a river, with the only two things in the world being the waters and the moon above.

Only two things worth a damn, anyway.

Every night, the strangest of thoughts would get their time to shine. On the night before we made it back, the strangest of them took hold.

Go back to that village. In the recycled atmosphere of the helmet, the tip of my tongue exited my mouth. The train of thought that had led to the idea had derailed and was lost. The logistics of that plan swarmed my head. All I would have had to do was get rid of my armour, bury my equipment, and avoid my subordinates…

For about two minutes, my mind was in turmoil. It was attractive. I could leave the Rangers behind and live day by day, eating what I made. Bedding a stallion every night. My armour and its servos had stopped their noise as I stood there on the river bank. But for all the beauty of that plan, the holes in it could be driven through with a lorry. Soon enough, the incessant noise of my armor moving itself, with me inside, could be heard once again.

The Elder of the base requested my presence, immediately. Neither of those things surprised me. I had had ample time to think about what I would say. Ramguard, a place that had been both a Zebra and Equestrian naval base, now served gunboats and a handful of merchant craft that had been refitted by the Rangers. It was now a base for the Rangers and was one of the larger cities in southern Sall’han. Elder Churned Waters was a busy stallion. That he was taking the time to talk with me was telling; these words would have weight.

It had been three years since I had been inside the office. At least, this time, I had arrived without a mental health evaluation between arriving at the base and his office door. The flanking guards didn’t seem to notice me. I had arrived there and promptly given my equipment to maintenance. For all intents and purposes, nothing had changed for me, yet.

The whisper of a well-maintained automatic door was all the warning I had before a Paladin walked out with a pensive expression on his face. I walked in and sat in the chair. Elder Waters stared straight at me the entire way. His throat cleared with aplomb.

“And so the intrepid Knight returns.” He said, his voice high and sanctimonious.

“Yeah, it’s almost like the tub wasn’t waiting for me.”

“Icepick, I heard that you took the raider leader’s head to the village. Pray-tell, is that true?” Fatherly; that was the way he had always been described. There was truth in it.

“I did what I had to do to show that my words weren’t empty.” The fact that I couldn’t speak their language is irrelevant. There was defiance in my voice. He looked at me and my defensive posture for a good long moment. It seemed to stretch even as I gazed at his patchy mane, burn marks, and, as a last resort, his eyes.

“You likely know this, but my mother was the General in command here when the bombs erased Equestria. Some say it was hereditary that I became the Elder here. Of those people, some think that my mother and her example led me. Others contend that I got this position only as a matter of my mother’s meddling. Personally, I think the others were willing to put stock in my character because of her. Knight Icepick, do you understand the lesson in that?”

“For argument’s sake, let’s assume that I don’t.” He rolled his eyes at that.

“I give those under my command a great deal of latitude, and I put a great deal of effort into keeping judgements of character purely based on that person’s merit. Not their background. With you Icepick, that’s hard. We, by which I mean people who have a modicum of empathy, have a hard time looking at you in that light. If you had never gone through what you had… if you had gone up the chain like others…”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one who calls the other on their excuses, Elder? ‘We have to meet our challenges in the present, not dwell on the past!’ That’s what you said to me the last time you spoke with me in this place. At the end of the day, my issue isn’t with you. No, you’re a good stallion. Our issue is with those that are content to sit in a climate-controlled bunker while the people who feed us die from bandits.”

“Icepick, just because you made one expedition into the sands and lived to tell about it doesn’t make it responsible.” He said firmly, patronisingly.

“I was barely prepared for it, and yet I had the head of the bandit stinking up my saddle bags. We have responsibilities. We have a codex. ‘We are the ember of the Equestria that was. What we fought for, we now are.’ Would any royal guard look at an Appaloosan bandit and let them go?”

“Villages, and their villagers, are only out there to avoid us. If they wanted aid, they could live on a sanctioned plot of land, paying their taxes and getting access to all the resources of Ramguard or Hyderbahn. They choose to live on the outskirts of civilisation.”

“Any yet we take our leave of their produce.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“We provide that last bonfire of civilisation. We make it possible for those people living out there to have a market to sell crops at. Without the Rangers, there is nothing.”

“They don’t get a choice in the matter; the least we can do is provide basic security.” At that, he looked down and drummed his hooves on the oaken desk.

“Icepick, because I respect you, and because in spite of it all, I’ve been impressed by the strength of will you’ve shown in the last three years; however, you cannot continue to act so tempestuously. If I had to choose someone in this base to be a chaplain or poet, or anything that involved a dearth of personal ambition, I would choose you in a heartbeat, but we are the last organisation that has both a logistical framework and a code of conduct. Maybe, when you’re my age, and we’re on our thirtieth five year plan, we can secure the entire length of the Senegral. There is no lack of work to be done, Knight.”

I sat there in that deteriorating chair and wondered what exactly I would say if there were no consequences for speaking. There was no way for him to understand. To him, we were the means to an end that anyone would fight for. The restoration of Equestria on foreign soil would require work. Maybe he never realized that what he and his predecessors were building wasn’t Equestria. Maybe he couldn’t. In that case, my words were better left unsaid. With a deep breath, I let the issue lie.

“Alright, what kind of punitive action do you have in mind?” I said with a feeling of defeat. I think my acquiescence made its way into my voice.

“If I’ve changed your mind, if you truly understand the duties of the Rangers and our place in this brave new world, then I can’t think of anything punishment would accomplish. Life is hard for everyone, Icepick. You personally should know that all too well. Now, if that has been settled I have an entire stack of reports detailing the expenses involved with raising that new steel plant.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about that, ‘Ya gotta hav’ steel ta mak’ it!’ Or something like that.” I said as I got up. My voice had a lilt to it. It masked the grinding of my teeth. Being in this room reminded me of that time too much all by itself. His mentioning of it wasn’t an aid.

“No more personal crusades, Icepick… Next time will require punitive action. Don’t make me order that.”

“Right, alright, have a nice afternoon, Waters.” I said to him as the door closed smoothly. Time to go find your CO, Ice. Maybe she’ll be nice.

My armour was going to be in maintenance for a couple days. I was stuck here and not at my actual post. Command saw a Ranger without armour as a liability more than anything else. Honestly, the more time I could put between my apology to Ironsight, the better I felt. Politics were going to make me apologize. I needed to keep the wheels greased, and even though we were technically the same rank… Her mother and brother gave her a certain weight that I wouldn’t of had even if I didn’t ‘misuse the discretion afforded to me’. Oh, fuck, I hated those people that could quote the codex at me for hours without seeing the hypocrisy involved with our organization's application of it.

I had always found a weird sense of contentment when I found a place where I could be alone in a complex of thousands. More often than not, ponies liked to use the bathrooms in or around their personal quarters, so they often left ones next to communal chambers open.

Maybe that was why I had taken a moment to look over the base’s library. I had learned a lot there. Unstructured time in the Rangers is a rarity, especially as a young Initiate. Reading anything and everything that wasn’t a goddess-damned manual was a relief valve. Well, that wasn’t the only way to blow off steam; honestly, the Rangers aren’t that opposed to sex. The codex is pretty liberal in that regard. Same sex, hetero, anything under the sun as long as new Rangers get made. ‘Through the furnace of the loins we are made.’ Those words were said by one of my sex-ed instructors.

All of it came down to the issues of having a small gene pool. The number of Rangers and Equestrians altogether was less than twenty thousand. We’re given a list of others that we can breed with. It was a way to relieve the pressure for ponies that wanted to know their offspring. Even then, the numbers that just took the fertilized zygote and ran with their partner was higher than the former. Really, I, like most Rangers, didn’t know my parents. The cycle perpetuates itself. Is it that hard to give your child to the organisation as long as you went through the same process and came out the way you did? Anonymised, Atomised. Good for the Rangers.

Most of my friends didn’t keep lovers for long. The impulse to breed can be satiated at about any time. Mares have IUDs, and the Rangers keep the population free from STDs with routine screenings and medical care. Equality in bed, and in arms; that was our motto.

It always gave me a weird feeling when I realized that I could already have a number of foals and not know it. I stepped out of the bathroom with that thought in my mind.

And it just so happened that I just happened to run into an old… friend. Paladin Reflex and I might have been called old flames in another time or place.

He had just exited the Knights workshop. He looked agitated. I decided to chance it and caught up to him.

“Hey, Reflex!” I said cheerily to him. His body turned at once towards me. He wasn’t the largest stallion; I had about fifteen centimeters of height on him, and I’m only a little taller than most stallions. Still, he was well built, and had the jaw of a pre-war sports star.

“Is that you, Ice?” He asked, knowing damn well what the answer was. I just ambled forward and gave the now-smiling stallion a hug. Reflex and I, we had history; he had been my bunkmate when we were both in training. He returned it and squeezed me.

“What you been up to, Ice?” He asked me casually after we broke the embrace. He was wearing his carbon-grey undersuit and had a pair of sunglasses on his brow. His short green mane and turquoise coat looked really good under the fluorescents. He had always been a good looking buck. Today was not an exception.

“I’ve been, uh, leading troops into the desert. I have a bag that smells like head and uh…” I shrugged my shoulders. He was looking at me with incredulity. “Do you wanna get dinner tonight, if you’re free?”

“Sure, you wanna slum it tonight?” He asked me quickly, he was never one to miss a beat.

“Okay, I’m happy to be surprised.”

“I gotta get you back for that surprise tackle,” His voice was joking and quite pleasant. He was the closest thing to a... I don’t know. I liked to hear his voice and see his face, it made me smile, made me warm and in more ways than a purely sexual one.

Yeah, we’d have a good night, I needed to fuck someone, it had been a while.

It didn’t matter, I smiled back; my misgivings could wait. We walked together for a little while until we got to his office. In that time, he told me about a greasy spoon he had found on a training patrol in Ramsgard, the city outside the base. Officers could leave, and I was technically on leave, as well, so we made a plan. Spending time in the city was usually pleasant. We entered his office and closed the door. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and ordered me out, playfully. Just before I got left, he told me to be back here by eight.

That meant I was going to be here at ten after eight.

I had met him next to his office in a suit of utility barding. I had my mane back in a bun, and it was brushed. He had given me a look of consideration before taking my hoof and kissing it. I glared at him, and he led me out and away.

We had spent the walk there complaining about things. I had told him how his sister was doing, and he had told me about the ongoing efforts in the city.

The smell of Ramsguard always took a few days to get used to. Somehow, the combination of salt from the sea, unwashed bodies, and a large market that always seemed open could never leave your mind when you walked in the city. This city, the first city made since the bombs fell, was full of traders and craftsponies and an omnipresent stink of desperation. Having this outside your window can make you feel superior; maybe that’s why they built it. This thought felt out of place in my peaceful walk with Reflex beside me.

For better or worse, the place was growing. Ramsguard had recently had a census. Thirty thousand people in the city, not including the Ranger base. He was talking to me about this.

“This is the first place that’s rebounded. The cities to the south they’re still ruled by warlords and produce nothing. Here, we have wells for water and food shipments from all over the Senegral, and in this city we have people recycling steel and making things. An Arabian here has a life expectancy ten years longer than one further south. Ice, do you see what we’re accomplishing here?” He finished his speech with a flourish and a wink.

“I’m glad that this place is making things, and I’m glad that people here are protected, but can you not see that that the food in part is stolen? Where exactly did you get that statistic from?” He took my words in stride and responded with words that could have comforted Water’s as he went to sleep.

“Don’t you think that when those people living out on the fringe need to find a new hoe or plow they’ll be happily surprised when they can just trade for one?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I said to him coyly.

His expression changed to one of contentedness, he had won me over, or at least thought that he had. And just seeing that look on his face was nice. It made me feel strangely warm, even as the heat of the day bled away. Being around him in particular brought it on. This silly, silly buck that wanted the best for the Rangers and its people because he believed that the Rangers were the best for the people.

The rest of the walk consisted of small talk and the kind of gossip that permeates any organisation.

Even if I didn’t like the city I was walking through and the looks we received, the night air always felt nice to me. Eventually, we did come to an adobe structure that was bigger than the buildings around it. Reflex grinned at me from the doorway. I rolled my eyes at him and entered.

This place smelled really good. Somehow, the building had kept that hidden. Somehow, Reflex’s smile didn’t tear the muscles in his face. The place was filled with mud-brick benches and a bunch of Arabians just waiting to give us looks of disgust. I trailed him as he found an empty table in a corner of the place. The dining room had two entrances; the one we had came in from, and another just two or three meters from our table. Reflex was a lot of things; none of those things made him complacent in Ramsguard.

We sat down opposite to each other. He held a hoof up in the air. I looked at him curiously. I saw someone from the counter at the front come to us. Reflex let his hoof come down on the table between us. The mare that came over to us had a paper pad in her mouth and a pencil in a strap on her clothing. Her face was long and otherwise not pleased.

“I’ll order for you.” He told me quickly. Before looking at her and speaking in rapid fire arabian. I let my eyes close for a second as I felt inadequate once again. How can I be critical of an organisation's treatment of a people when I can’t even speak their language? On impulse I reached out with a hoof of mine and laid it on his. It felt nice feeling his body under mine, comforting in an alien place, which was funny, considering he was the one who dragged me out here.

After that little bit of speaking, the mare walked off and we were free to talk. It had been a different evening than I had expected, but wasn’t that usually a good thing?

Unleavened bread is good, and the things these people could do with greens made the cafeteria anywhere in Rangerland taste like bunk. I had to admit that Reflex had good taste in food. There had been a lull in our conversation when the food arrived, rightly so.

“So, how exactly did you find this place?” I asked him as he finished cramming the last of the food down his gullet.

“Ice, when we take initiates on patrols we take them through the safest sections of Ramsguard. When one of them asked what Arabians ate and another responded by saying that they ate shit, I set the record straight. I asked an arabian about a place to eat, they told me about this place. I had the pony who responded with the shit comment put on latrine duty for a month, and the one who had asked the question and the others come here with me. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be good, just that they wouldn’t literally be eating feces but you know what they say about pleasant surprises.”

“They’re rare... And pleasant?” I said to him before letting out a solitary laugh.

“Hah, you still have that same sense of humor. Don’t worry, I won’t let the others know that you’re not a pessimist under that shell.”

I laughed loudly enough to draw the attention of the other patrons.

It was only luck that had me look at the pair of ponies that entered from the entrance we had come from. Both were males, and both were wearing the thicker clothing that most put on when the sun came down. Their walk was stilted, and it put me on edge. Their eyes scanned around before touching our alcove and then suddenly looking away.

“Reflex, those guys are freaking me out. Don’t look at them, just follow my line of sight.” I didn’t see his face. My head was sitting in such a way that I looked nearly asleep while keeping them in my peripheral vision. In that vision I saw them walk over to an alcove adjacent to ours. I thought I caught a bulge on one of their sides. Both of them had hoods laying around their necks.

“Do you think that they’re armed?” Reflex asked me. I yawned and turned to face him.

“One looks like he is, and the other is probably armed as well,” I whispered to him.

He then pushed his lips against mine. I opened my mouth. We pulled our bodies over the table and angled them so that one of our sides couldn’t be seen by the possible attackers. He pulled out a service pistol and laid in on the table obscured by our bodies. I had mine in a thigh holster. He seemed to read my mind. The hoof that had gone for his gun was now pulled up and around my neck. From their point of view, it might have looked like I was about to rub one out in front of them.

No, I pulled my piece from its place. We had a single shot at this, especially considering the way one of them glanced at his side again and again. Both of us simultaneously bent down and grabbed our pistols. Mouth-held or not, we were both good shots. All we were waiting for was a chance to rock and roll.

Author's Notes:

Hey guys, it feels weird posting things on this site again. And well, to any reader who made it this far, thank you for giving this story and by extension me the time of day.

Lines In The Sand (II)

Walking down the flights of stairs was always a reminder of what we were, and really, what we are. The surface, with its scorching sun and adobe, was more alive. Holes in the earth have always been more quiet. I was born in an adjacent structure, a Stable all the same. The places always felt like they were meant to be whispered in; the idea of having a party or a wastefully fun social gathering felt alien to the place.

I mean to say that Mausoleums are pretty stable.

No, I had business here. Mom had needed some help with the shop on the day of. Books could be gifts, and on ceremony day, people got their relatives gifts. It just happened that this assignment ceremony was also my assignment day. So, I was making my way down into Stable 56 and its office of employment. Basing a critical feature of our society down in a hole made sense. Was it a reasonable fear that we would be driven back down there? I didn’t know, and no one I knew did either.

Stables, bomb shelters built for thousands, were where we came from, plural.

My mind was wandering as the others went about their day. The maintenance staff for these places had a tendency to stay below. They gave my pink coat and side bags a strange look as I passed by. Some people had never wanted to leave these holes, and I couldn’t understand that.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of walking and straining my eyes to look at faded signs, I made it to the office I was looking for. I glanced at it through the glass in the door. The room had a steel desk at its center and an older mare was sitting at it.

Director Of Occupational Assignment said a plaque on her desk.

I rapped on the door three times. She looked at the door.

“Come in,” She said to me, and I did.

“H-hello.” I relied tentatively. She was actually quite pretty.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Rosetta. My mother runs a bookstore.” I didn’t know why I blurted that out. In fact, she gave me an odd look. I was drying out like a pelt in the sun. She looked to her desktop terminal for a moment before typing out a short message.

“Oh, you were the one who skipped graduation day.” Her voice held an amusement to it. “Afraid of crowds, or recognition?” The mare had softened her voice as she asked.

“Uhh.” My mouth kind of fell open and made noises as my brain stalled. I couldn’t help but think that she was right on both counts.

“You’re not the first and not the last. Really, it’s respite more than anything else, especially if you get to be the bearer of good news.”

“O-okay. Glad to be the receiver of good news?”

“Yep, you’re hearing it from me first, come tomorrow you’re a desert ranger,” She told me with a lackadaisical tone in her voice.

“What?” I said as I shivered. I shifted forward and placed my front hooves on her desk. I was about to either scream at her or cry in her general direction. Before…

“Just joking, how do you feel about studying under Doctor Mildew?” She told me as she placed a hoof on top of one of mine. My lips pursed.

“You’re not lying to me… You’re serious?” I couldn’t believe the mare standing in front of me.

“Yes, I was on the committee that decided you would do well in that position. Cheer up; you don’t get to skip that ceremony without some kind of punishment.”

“So, do I show up at his office tomorrow?”

“Only if you have the slip I’m writing. You do know that Dr. Mildew was there at the ceremony? He wanted to meet you.”

I guess reading through that musty anatomy textbook had payed off with interest. Rosetta was going to be taught medicine. As many problems as the entrance exam had, it’d gotten me somewhere namely, gawking at the head of an important committee. Shit. I looked at my legs. The scratching of a pen on paper caught my attention, but I didn’t look at it.

“Here you go.” I looked back up at her and took the paper with a hoof. As I was sliding it into my right bag she looked at me with a smile. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

I turned around, muttering a thank-you. She enjoyed her job too much.

The walk back up to Paradise Lost was hurried. The people down there were staring at me like I was a parasite under a microscope.

When I made it through the Stable door and into a place touched by the sun, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t a fan of small places or dark ones. The city above was my home, a mixture of new structures and repaired older ones. Apparently the world ended a century ago, and honestly, I had a hard time believing that sometimes. In Paradise Lost, I could walk a couple feet and a find a bathhouse or drinking fountain. Power flowed in our houses, no one starved, even if potatoes were a little too prevalent in our diet.

I guess the name of the town that existed here before was literally named Paradise. Paradise had been a resort town constructed on the shores of Sall’han, adjacent to a naval base. Interdicting traffic to the enemies of Equestria was a necessity. This place apparently sprung up overnight, and was described as both a tourist trap and a place for sailors to unwind.

As I made my way back home, my mind wandered.

Was I really doctor material? There were twenty in the city. For twelve thousand people, it wasn’t a bad ratio, historically speaking. I had always wondered why our city was named the way that it was. Was it some remembrance for the past? What did we lose?

The war and its exchange of super weapons had turned Equestria to ash, and Zebrica was left worse off, somehow. Well, we stuck with the name our forebearers had come to agreement with.

My walk came to an end as I spotted my mother’s book store. If nothing else, I had something good to tell my mom.

When I made my way to Mildew, the next day I found a teal coloured buck with a military cut to his hair. He promptly asked why exactly I hadn’t been at the ceremony. In his office full of awards, all dated to a few decades back, I answered the question the same way I had with the assignment office mare. His mane was grayed to a snowy complexion and his corrective lenses were scratched and thick. All of this was intimidating to me.

“Damn, you’re a dead ringer for your father, in everything but voice and disposition.” He said this, referring to a father I never knew, and without that pernicious tone to his voice. It was simply a fact to him. Mildew shifted vertically, somehow. “If you think this is going to be easy for you, that any part of this can be slept through, you’re not only dead wrong but you’ll probably going to end up killing someone.” His gray eyes bored into my face. My face shifted towards the floor.

“Gods dammit.” There was a pause after his words.

“You read well, and you can keep the stuff in your head, you aren’t a cocky asshole. I can work with you, so all of it really comes down to you. If you want a job where you’ll get five hours of sleep a night, then you’ve found it.”

“I think I’m one of the better candidates. I really do want to help ponies.”

My voice was low but there was commitment in it.

“Alright, you’re going to learn the trade the same way I did; By watching me, reading a helluva lotta books, and working with patients as they come in.”

“Well, medical schools aren’t really around anymore, so it makes sense. I’ll be happy to help,” I thought out loud, to his minor amusement.

He turned his back before muttering, “You say that now.”

I ambled in like I had for the last month, with a loose gait and a lowered neck. Exhaustion was a feeling I had never truly experienced before. I was up at five and asleep by twelve, which was darkly funny. Those medical texts I studied said that sleep was important, and that you should get seven or more hours of it. For the first few days, I felt like death.

My mother, as supportive as always, greeted me warmly when I trotted in. The muscles in my mouth flexed to form a light smile, most of those muscles I could now name. Page Turner always liked it when I smiled. I was the smiling type, so it wasn’t a foreign activity. The smell of cabbage and browned bread perked me up. We had an extra bedroom up top, where Dalliance slept. She could cook, and she pulled in caps for rent. Mom was always more focused on her store, her project of the moment, and ,well, me. The interior of the shop had an ever present smell: Leather, paper, and a just a little rot.

“Rose, dinner is nearly done. You do want to join us, yes?” My mother had an eloquence in her speech that extended to every word she spoke. Her brownish, beige coat and thick glasses gave her an appearance nearly as bookish as the place she ran. Sharp grey eyes and black hair wrapped up in a bun made her appear to be a mercenary librarian, which, was effectively what she was.

“Only if you feed it intravenously,” I said with an exaggerated yawn following shortly behind the statement.

“That’s the spirit! No, If I know you, and I do, you’re starving.” Even so, she walked over to me and gave me a push in the general direction of the table. As I continued to walk under my own power, she snorted. “I hope you act like this to doctor Mildew.”

“Well, he doesn’t satiate my appetite; he just makes it disappear. He doesn’t even require any magic to work that spell.” I sat down at the wooden table set for four. It was big enough for the three of us.

“He is an impressive sack of bones.” She said to me from across the table.

“He’ll only be a sack of bones if he doesn’t eat.” Dalliance said from the kitchen.

She trotted into the room to give me a look over. “Not him, Dally, the doctor he’s learning from. Rosetta is only as emaciated as he normally is.”

“That wasn’t very nice. Bad mare.” Dally said before tapping my mom on the muzzle with the stirring spoon.

“Ooom, smells good.” Page said to her before giving her a light peck on the cheek. They had moments where they forgot that they were alone, or just didn’t care.

“So, uh, I learned how a dialysis machine works, in principal. Word of advice: keep your kidneys intact.” After hearing that, they both looked at me funny before the mercenary librarian rolled her eyes and the mare who had become a second mom to me just shook her head in the general direction of the kitchen. Around them, my desire to sink into the walls disappeared. Comfort can do that to a person. It can make them better.

I followed the instruction. As I was spooning the hot stew into a wooden bowl, I could hear them talking, barely.

“You think we did well? He is going to be a doctor, though I could always tell from his hoofwriting. Do you think that-”

“Yes, yes. If anything you’ve told me about him had a grain of truth in it… he’d be very proud of him. Not that I didn’t help.”

In the moment after hearing that I felt my mouth tighten up and a tenseness in my chest. I felt warm, in that moment all of it made sense. Parents that love you… sometimes you forget that fact, and sometimes they don’t say it out loud enough. Still, in that doorway, I began to cry those periodic tears. My father had died out there. You know, the wasteland. He died of an infectious disease. We had his ashes in an urn.

With a little hesitation, and that low lying joy that comes from realising attachment, I proceeded to grab myself a bowl of the stew, and with a thought, I made a bowl for mom and Dally.

I walked back in to see the two of them looking at their hooves. Laying the bowls down with a finesse I had just started to learn, I gave the two of them that practiced slight smile.

“Thanks,” Dally said to me smoothly as I passed the bowl to her.

“So, do you have a date for Unification Day?” My mom had shifted gears over to my unfinished affairs as quickly as she did anything else.

“Uh, I’ve been really busy,” I said meekly.

Dally shot me a look of sympathy, but Page was a results driven person.

“I know you meet with a lot of the patients before Mildew gets to them; if that isn’t an icebreaker, I don’t know what would be.”

“I don’t think that that’s ethical. If a filly has a broken leg or a buck has a cut that needs stitches… that kind of supercedes my… wants.”

“Well, you have some time, but still.” She gave me her signature expression, her lips pursed, eyes locked on and ears straight up. Then her features softened at a look from Dally.

“We just want you to be happy. You took a risk in becoming Mildew’s apprentice. How hard is it to ask someone if they want go to the soda fountain, or the bar?”

My face clouded. She never understood. I loved her and she loved me, that was never in question. I wasn’t a cut-throat, I just had a hard time with ponies.

“You’ll get over it, everyone likes a doctor,” Dally said after thirty seconds of pregnant silence.

“P-probably.” I said before swallowing a spoonful of stew.

The Salt in the air stayed the same, even on a day when drunk ponies and cynical merchants took to the streets in broad daylight.

It was the look in his eyes that gave him away: Mildew had just told me that I could take a day off to go enjoy the festivities.

I shifted my hooves back and forth, my head had taken its normal ground-facing position. “I’m fine with staying here, Mildew. I’m sure you’ll want a second pair of hooves to operate the stomach pump.”

“First off, you just jinxed us. Second off, you’re what, twenty, and wanting to stay in on today of all days. Third, things are always better in threes.”

I chuckled a little at the ornery doctor. If he didn’t run into mom or Dalliance, then he couldn’t reveal that I’d be lying to them about my activities, or lack of them, today.

“Today isn’t the day for me, alright?” I said with resignation in my voice with a little bit of bite at the end. He wouldn’t ask why, hopefully.

His face looked stony for a second and one of his fore hooves came up to stroke his scraggly facial tufts.

“This is highly unethical, but I have a cure for social phobia. Now, I’ve only found this out through years of being a physician. Have some faith in me.” He said this to me before he turned. His desk was his destination, and I just stood there murmuring about not having social phobia…

It really didn’t matter. He came out from behind his desk with a bottle of brown liquid and a pair of glasses.

“Think of this as more of a pre-game,” He said nonchalantly as he gestured for me to go sit with him at one of the waiting room tables.

“What?”

“You need to get out more. When I was your age I was mainlining- You wouldn’t understand. No, I really just want to get you buzzed enough that you can interact with others the way a regular jackoff would.” He looked at my face for half a second.

He shook his head. A smile then appeared on his face. “Give it a shot.” And then he laughed. Oh, yeah, those were shot glasses that he was filling.

With a little flourish, he finished filling the glasses. He picked his up with his right hoof while I hesitantly did the same. “Bottoms up,” Mildew said before stopping his drink.

“Did I teach you how to transplant a liver yet?” He said suddenly, spinning his glass in his magic on his hoof.

“No.” I said before dumping the liquor down my throat. I gagged loudly. My body thought that I had just swallowed fire.

“Say thank you. I pulled a shampoo bottle out of a stallion's ass for this. Well, he gave me this so that I’d never mention it again, but fuck, it’s Unification Day, and I almost took it to my grave.”

“So that was why he was walking funny. I wrote that he thrown out his back... And that was a week ago.” My volume had crept up. He actually smiled at me.

“That’s the spirit. Soon enough, you’ll be one of few people here close to qualified to remove an appendix.” He clapped me on the shoulder before refilling our glasses.

“Or remove a shampoo bottle and tell about it,” I said a few seconds later. I shook my head in his direction. Mildew was a pretty cool boss, not very scholarly, but cool. His temperament was an alien one to me, but even the alien become commonplace after a while, and what becomes commonplace can be loved.

The night, with its wooping and discord, had dragged on. True story: the table in front of me got more interesting the more I drank. Rubbing a hoof on it was just way better. I couldn’t tell you why, though. All the while, Mildew and I had chatted about whatever floated into our heads. I had learned what he had mainlined, so, so long ago.

Mildew was, for lack of a better word, an interesting fellow, and when he was intoxicated, he was a lot more open to suggestion. I had begun with questions about his life, all the cool shit he had done. The guy had been five when the Unification Day had occurred. To hear him tell it when his blood was cut with ethanol really was something.

“Unification Day, it wasn’t a day just by itself, but they don’t want to have a couple months of awkward dick measuring negotiation commemorated. The best way to describe it is this: Imagine that you’re in a public bathroom and the stalls are full except for one, so you have to piss, and at the stall, you kinda give the other guy’s cock a look. I mean, you don’t wanna be the smallest one there, you know?” I nodded and was happy that not all the lights were on. Bathrooms had always been weird for me.

“And you see that theirs is about as big as yours. So you then look back at your own. Maybe you start talking. It really doesn’t matter. What matters is that you don’t feel insecure. Basically when the Navy Vault opened up both them and us figured out that neither would win a fight for that fucking water talisman, and so we became friends. I was a little guy at the time but when we started helping them tear apart those hulks to salvage their desalinators and the reactors, I knew we were fine. Honestly, just being able to see that big ball of fire in the sky? That made my childhood. My parents got electric bulbs and a UV emitter in the classroom, that’s it. That’s why all those old timers are crazy as shit, you know?”

“I-I do now,” I slurred out. All told, I downed half a dozen shots of rock gut, Mildew told me later, which is good for a first time, apparently.

“You’re drunk. I’m cuttin’ you off. Goodnight, and drink some water when you get home,” He said to me before waving a hoof in the direction of the door.

“What was my Dad like?” I asked quietly. I think the very words I said sobered me a little.

“Oh, fuck. Ponies can say a lot about you. And they do. Don’t ask!” His voice shifted from that of the cool uncle to that of the long lived physician. “But they can’t say that you don’t ask the hardest questions. Your Dad. Imagine a Stallion who knew what he wanted and would do whatever it required. He was large, brash, and he had more loyalty in him in his left testical than most do in both of theirs. No, really, he had more than they have in their bodies, myself included.” His eyes looked into mine, though they glazed over a bit.

“He died on an expedition into that shit-caked desert to the south. That’s what they say, the elected officials, the bureaucracy. All the well-to-do folks. I learned a long time ago that the rules that those types play by are a lot different than the ones we live by, or are forced down our throats, but, I mean, who cares if a good stallion dies to keep all this peace? All this not-starvation? All of this wonderful medicine?” His orbs focused again in the low light. His spine straightened. The conspiratorial tone and the undertone of anger disappeared, it was like an electrical switch had been flipped.

“You’re a good buck, really, as much shit as I give you. Don’t go digging up someone who died two decades back. What matters is the here and now. You look like you understand,” He said to me, someone with more on his mind than when he had entered. I intentionally made my parting words extra slurred, or maybe it was the Ethanol in my blood. All I know is that I felt like I could do anything. In the next couple days, I could retrieve my father’s medical records. And from there… I didn’t really think about that.

I woke up. The bed I was in belonged to me, and my head felt like it had needles embedded in it, needles that vibrated. Well, instead of getting off of the bed, I lay there for a moment and thought about the night before. Some things were hazy, but I did remember waking up on the kitchen floor. My body had finally finished the first step in breaking down the alcohol in my bloodstream, so I had wandered into my bedroom.

My attempt at sleeping it off was kind of successful… I knew that I had to get some food and water in my system, mostly the water, though.

I cursed under my breath as I made my legs take my weight. The promising physician in me that had hidden itself away spoke to me then. That toxin breakdown you did, it used up a lot of water. Get water in yourself.

And with that thought, I had a plan. As I walked into the kitchen, I saw Dally sitting at the table, writing something down. She looked kind of frantic.

“You cramming for an assignment, or something?” I said to her. Her eyes widened at me. They dilated on the spot. That was curious; she was normally the most laid back pony I knew.

“No, I’m just writing some things down, my boss at the glass plant is gonna need some new employees soon. I think there’s an expansion in the works, you know?”

I nodded at her. There were stranger things than Dalliance speaking like she has a final that she didn’t study for right around the corner. I tried to pick up a glass with my magic. It lifted half an inch before a splitting pain pierced my skull. Hangovers suck. I must have winced just before the glass on the kitchen island came back down with a crash.

“You okay? Did you hit the liquor hard last night, or something?” Dally asked me from her chair. She said it in a halting, joking tone that, for her, masked concern.

“Yes, and yes.” I turned my head to look at her. Was there something going on that I didn’t know about? There was a twitch as I shrugged my shoulders. I walked over to the glass and grasped it with a hoof, the magic field it could project not seeming to be affected by a hangover. I pushed the tap open with the other leg. All it required was for me to bend over the counter. Sometimes I felt that being tall was lucky. As the glass filled, I remembered my training. If you're dealing with dehydration, you should wait and take small drinks.

The glass filled, I started to slowly drink my glass. I didn’t even feel how dry my mouth and throat were until the water touched them. It took a few minutes, but I downed the glass. Dalliance stayed quiet in the other room, which was strange, considering she was the mare that would have conversations with cashiers on the other side of the city.

I needed to pee, so I walked into the bathroom on legs that felt more steady. After I used the toilet, I caught a look of myself in the mirror. I’m not the kind of pony that focuses on their appearance, but seeing my turquoise eyes bloodshot and red mane ruffled made me smile. I look pretty rugged. Taking an inventory of my body didn’t seem to be a bad idea. I swung my head to look at my flank. Yep, my coat was still pink and my mark still showed a open book with a pencil and wrench sitting on it. I turned around and gave my ass a once over. I smiled furtively. I had always suspected that ponies were built to stare at their own asses. I mean, not many creatures can both make glass and turn their heads as close to backward as us.

I still had a dock and black pair of testicles, the right one in the mirror hung lower than the other one. Again, the young doctor in me spoke up.

The one that hangs down is the one making sperm. The other one is hanging around in reserve. Even alone in the bathroom, that fact made my cheeks redden. The thought of having all that sperm just lying around was kind of weird. There were a couple of my tertiary school classmates that I wouldn’t say no to. There was a mare who had taken biology III with me a couple months ago, she had a red mane like me and a pair of hips to write home about. We had been partners in the lab. I could never just ask her for a date or anything. That stallion in Equestrian History with that scar on his face, too, but every word out of his mouth had been painful though. I would have dicked both of them though, or both at the same time.

That mental image had my shaft peeking out. I cleared my mind and thought of differential equations for a minute. I gave myself a minute before exiting the bathroom, shaft back in its sheath. I had reading to do.

Even on a day off, there was always reading to do. Somehow, that didn’t bother me too much. It kept my mind from other things for a while.

Author's Notes:

Tell me what you liked and what you didn't. For writers, feedback is basically cocaine.

Grounded, Dust And Death (III)

I had never expected this to happen. Hunkered down with others from the entire empire. Yes, the wind was bitter, but the intermittent sound of artillery chilled us more. When the shells began to explode near us, we knew that it’d be better underground. And so we went under. Under in this case meant a system of tunnels built under our entrenched position. They were a defense that had held. That could be said for the upjumped holes. Waiting in those holes was a normality. In the last week we had been under bombardment roughly forty hours.

The moments of combat were a blessing.

The warming of your blood is a compensation, even if warm blood is soon spilled.

This was the war that had dragged on. It started with the nation to the south and their war; Celestians, sun worshipers with their gold encrusted idols. Our ruler Grimkeep the fifth had decided that the winds were on our side as the Celestians were bleeding in a war with their rebellious colony a continent away. Sall’han, an arid place, which had been their prized rose, became their thorn.

How else could it have gone? It was obvious in hindsight… Celestians are a lot of things. But they have a memory that’s nearly as good as ours. The colony and the homeland settled their differences quickly. The Crystal throne had menaced them in the past.

The Treaty Of Redress, was unexpected.

The combined powers of the Sun had us pushed into our own lands. We could bleed them, but they were not stopping. The radios would speak of our heroic underwater boats tearing into their food supplies and munition factories. And apparently the Freehold of Zebrica had declared for us. All of it seemed for nought from the trenches. From inside someone spoke to me.

“You think they’ll go over the top today Perm?” A buck by the name of Ruby had broken my thoughts. I turned my head, feeling the weight of my helmet in the process, to look into his eyes.

“The bombardment usually precedes an advance. Did you and Gallant repair that machine gun?”

“Shit, I need to check with him. Supply is going to shit. Losing Diamond…”

Clouded Diamond. The only person out here that had any sway with the logistic corp. He had been outside replacing the barrel of one of the company’s water cooled machine guns. The shot had came from the trench a mile away. Maybe if we had seen a glint… No. Its was the price we paid. Anyone here could pay it at any time. We all knew it, but to see it on our doorstep.

“Just be ready, get warm. It’s something those idolaters up there won’t have.”

“Yeah.” He said before walking over to his blankets.

I made it for our radio station. Upon entering, Trace gave me a lukewarm smile. To be fair, it was a better than the expression rest of us had. We ambled up to each other, her steps bouncy even after all of this. What would it require to put a stop to it? My face contorted from the images that train of thought created.

She nuzzled my neck, she always felt warm.

“They’re pushing again aren’t they?” Her voice had a song like quality to it. Her wings and burnt orange coat sealed the deal, everyone who knew her called her Sunny.

For some reason we had gotten along. Her parents had been servants of the state. There aren’t many pegasi in the north. Couriers and weather controllers are well valued even today. It hadn’t many years since the displacement. A century ago the north had been engulfed by the remains of the Crystal Empire. Their great leader had died a long while before that, but the majority of his heirs had little ambition. Grimkeep the first of his name.

In my readings he had always been a great one. Even as his older siblings wasted resources on trivialities, he had quietly plotted. As accidents piled up and various foreign entities killed all of those above him on the line of succession. There were accusations made but nothing was ever proven. After his older sister died from a Stomach illness he took the crystal throne.

That led to a militarisation, a solid decade of it. In the north of Equus a series of brief, nearly bloodless shows of force gave him territory that would have made Sombra salivate. His offer had been simple, honorary Crystal citizenship with all of it’s benefits and duties. He was a fair enough stallion, or so the books said. He took the rest of us and raised us up to civilisation. Brought us steam and learning, the printing press. Things that the Sunny south had had for a century or more. The books told us that as Grimkeep the first passed on, he had told us that the only way forward was to disavow the parlour tricks that had dominated us after the break up of the three tribes.

History had proven him correct. Factories in every city, a furnace in every home and a railway junction everywhere that mattered. Through knowledge we had prospered. Through trade with the south we had found the world was more than happy to trade with us, more than weary to have us as anything more than a scattered series of mineral extraction zones.

Blood is Iron and Iron is our blood.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” I said to my Bunkmate.

“You’re shivering. Ahh, Perm you’ve got to let me look at that wound.” She wasn’t really bunkmate, we had no bunks down below; however we shared both a pile of blankets and a common cranny. A pressure wave pushed through us then. The shelling wasn’t going to be one of those short feint attacks. They meant to collapse our positions. The not-so-funny joke was on them. We built well.

Well enough.

“Okay, I have a minute.” I said to her in a near monotone. I wanted sleep more than almost anything.

And so as she told me about the things spewing out of the radio, we walked down a recessed room. There in a secluded corner we had ended up.

I had met her back in basic after a conscription tore me out of Maidenpool.

We had found each other because we were both outsiders. The fiftieth infantry regiment had no else from Maidenpool, and no other pegasus. I was happy I had found her. She could be a nuisance, but she knew more about circuitry and electrical arcana then I had ever met. Funny, considering my glyph was an errant spark. I liked talking to her about any number of things. As a soldier on a front, we were both well acquainted with tedium.

So, as we made to lay down she grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me down. She smiled at me. “I wanted to sleep. I don’t want to die tired.”

She dropped herself onto me with aplomb. “You are ridiculous, I hope you know that.”

“Regardless. Now mirror, how does my face look?” I said to the person using me like a bed of straw.

“A mirror without light isn’t very useful?” She bent down and locked lips with me. Her front legs stroked down my coat. I pulled a blanket from the pile with my telekinesis, it was draped on the both of us. My horn continued to glow. The depredations of the tunnel seemed to dim. She was the silver lining for this entire venture.

As she let her weight drop onto me, we both sighed contentedly.

Soon thereafter, with our bodies warmed and dry we passed out.

The trenches were quiet at 0300. The Barrages, for all of their intensity, had stopped the week past. So the Celestians had learned their blooded lesson. Our trenches were assaulted less than our cities. The entire western seaboard had had the guns of Celestian fleet turned on them. Every radio broadcast, they weren’t hesitant to tell us in graphic detail the depredation of the enemy. In Maidenpool, an ammunition manufactory had been hit, a water treatment plant turned into a hole in the ground, and- the broadcaster had teared up when uttering this - a kindergarten.

There were other places that had been struck by seaborne artillery and the bombing raids had been a constant in this conflict. But your home is your home. My parents lived there; they drank from the tap like anyone else. For them, water from a tap was a kind of practical witchcraft. They had killed children, many children. When my thoughts drifted in those lonely nights, my thoughts returned to a single notion.

We were safer here in our holes than they were in their homes.

Safer; more safe.

My rifle was slung over my right shoulder. It shifted laterally as I made my patrol with Drying Wool. We were from entirely different sides of the empire, and yet there was a companionable silence hanging in the air between us. That night, the moon was black.

Hours passed and our bodies tired. After Wool heard something, we stiffened and searched the area. The both us observed a normal section of trench. After conferring with each other, he spoke to me supererogatorily.

“You have my prayers,” he said pensively, without looking at me.

I locked eyes with him, a question on the verge of being said spread my lips.

“We see you sitting with us in the main room, you aren’t there there. Permittivity, I worry about the person who stands beside me. Maidenpool is big, what you’re afraid of…” He stopped. His hooves received a lengthy, piercing glare.

I looked at him, my face stony, for a good number of seconds.

“Thank you,” I said in a dour tone. I didn’t want to hurt him. He was a good buck, and a better soldier than I ever was. But, for me, certain subjects were charged. Some conferred a charge that hurt, and one or two would kill.

I started up again. The trench was life and life didn’t stop when an obstacle appeared; except, of course, in the case of death. Wool followed. Time passed and we came to the edge of our patrol route, and doubled back.

Maybe, if I had been faster, maybe if our ears had been angled the right way, if I hadn’t had my attention fixed on the letters I had sent back home and the subsequent lack of response, maybe. We had made it to a Tee in the trench where the furthermost line connected to a utility trench that led to our regiment’s living quarters. The trenches weren’t built to any specification; the section we were standing in was a meter and a half wide.

I remember, distinctly, the crunch of a booted hoof striking a snow covered plank. It came from the utility trench to our right. Wool turned to face the noise and was stabbed in the throat with a combat knife. He saved my life, even as his life spurted out in time with his dying hearts beats. My rifle and I spun to face it. In the corner of my eyes I saw the iridescent glow of telekinesis coming from the utility trench. The magic user was frantically trying to pull their knife out of Wool’s meaty neck. So, with the mechanical precision born of training, the clasp of my rifle’s sheath was opened. Finally, they freed their knife as I leveled my rifle at them.

The sound of the rifle was deafening, the muzzle flash was blinding, and the scream of pain they made as the rifle round tore through the center of their chest was left unseen and unheard. I had time to cycle the bolt of the rifle before a dark silhouette lunged at me from behind the shot pony.

Their weight caused me to hit the wall of the trench at speed. I tried to break their head with the heavy butt of my rifle, only for them to catch it with a hoof swipe. I had a half second to bring my head down. White hot pain slipped through the chemicals my body was releasing. A line just under my jaw was leaking blood. None of this stopped the large earth pony from slashing at me again with his blade. I attempted to sidestep, only to have him cut into the top of my muzzle.

He placed his rear leg in my way, and the moment of instability when I ran into it was enough for him to lunge once more. The lance of pain this brought was different from the other slashes, I didn’t know then what he had done. My eyes closed.I lit my horn, brightly.

The blue light was a nova in that trench. In that moment, I knew I had to act. In the moment before I seized the blade of the pony I had shot, I observed the length of blade embedded in my side. That could be my death. The thought was passing, like a commentary on the merit of aluminum siding; decidedly trivial, and that too passed. The knife on the ground found itself encased in my magic before being forced into his neck.

Something in me snapped; a wall built in my head broke, the gas contained expanded beyond its containment, my telekinesis shifted. The chilled blade now had electrical potential flowing through it for a fraction of a fraction of second, before the blood and gristle of the body shorted the circuit. My wounded face warped into a blood-soaked sneer. I looked down at the bodies with the aid of a softer horn glow. The shot pony had been a mare, and the one who had stabbed me was male. His heart had stopped after the electricity permeated his flesh. I could see it in the way his body lay.

Cooked flesh is easier to pull blades from, I learned that day. It was a brutal slash to the dying mare’s throat that ended her life. I do not regret it.

I forced myself deeper into the utility trench, my blood leaving a trail any hunter could have followed, any vexed butcher, any spectre of death.

I collapsed a dozen meters from the sight of the fight. As a consequence of the solitary gunshot, a trio of drowsy ponies found my body blood-covered and going into shock. One of them had medical training.

Waking up after a session of violent bloodletting is never pleasant. To be fair, the same is true for all grievous injury. In this case I could feel thin lines of dulled pain on my muscle and on my chin, and a deep fissure in my side. So that’s what it feels to have a cavity packed with gauze. Everything around me was dulled. I could tell that I was drugged.

With an effort I turned my head in a sweeping arc. I was in a wide corridor lying on a thin cot, a thin cot that was seemingly replicated several dozen times in both directions. On those cots ponies were being cared for as best as they could be. Seeing, the sheer number of ponies in discomfort and various degrees of dismemberment would have been sobering, in any other mental state. In a detached way I noted the intravenous fluid mix I was being given. Sometime later I theorized that the tube was the way this feeling of liquid bliss was entering me. And enhancing my existence.

I made eye contact with a nurse pony after an indefinite amount of time. She made her way to me through the crowded medical station before stopping in front of me.

“How are you feeling… Permit…” She asked this with an apologetic tone.

“You can just call me Perm,” I simplified this matter with just a couple words.

She looked at me appraisingly for a moment. I would later learn that my name was written on a sheet of pertinent medical information at the front of my bed.

“Well, how are you feeling Perm?”

“Honestly, I’ve seen better days. Not recently, mind you,” I stated to the nurse. I wasn’t lying to the mare. The recovery from the knife wounds was a good deal better than receiving the wounds.

“Alright, that is good to hear. The next meal is another two hours. And let me answer your next question for you: you have been unconscious for just about two days.”

She ended her statement with a false cheeriness that I could sense even in my novel mental state. She had obviously had a hard day, the wear was evident in her eyes and her face. If she had been better rested she would have been quite pretty. As it stood I had one slightly odd request.

“Miss, are there any periodicals that I could read?” I asked of the mare. A mare that could have used some of the substance flowing through my veins.

“Tomorrow I believe I could find a newspaper for you, most of the morning issues we received have already been employed. However, could a penny dreadful sate your hunger?” She said to me before glancing down at the list of pertinent information and curiously, my face.

“You previously stated that a meal would be served two hours hence; why would I eat a book?” I said confused tone.

The mare uttered a slight chuckle, her bunned hair reminded me of Trace- nothing else did the two mares share. Tracy was a lightly coated and dark maned pegasus, with a rambunctious demeanor. This mare was a dutiful earth mare whose colour scheme reminded me of the ashy skies in The Imperial City.

“No, in all seriousness, I would quite enjoy perusing such a book. On another note, how ravaged is my face? I’ve seen you glance at it as often as I have watched you look at the other patients’ missing limbs.”

“Perm, it is worse now than it will be. That said, the scars on the bridge of your muzzle and under your jaw will stay with you. As of this moment I am watching your wounds, like a hawk, for any sign of infection.”

“I expected as much. Well, in any case, thank you for telling me the truth.”

An hour later, an hour before my next meal. I might add, superfluously, the nurse had brought me that book. I gave her a quizzical look. Apparently, her definition of a penny dreadful was different than mine. This book was old. There was no crude cover art on the front, only a hardcover and a title written in flowing script.

“Thank you, miss?”

“Sallow Smile. Now have a good read, but let your body rest. You need it more than you think, you soldiers always do.” The mare left in much the same way as she did before. Some part of me hoped that assisting me would leaven her spirits. There would be no confirmation, one way or the other.

The book, I opened with a tendril of blue magic. It was not a surprise to me that the text in the book was tiny, and the words themselves arcane. But, those were the easier things to infer from the title. The foreword was by a professor of cultural studies. It was a compilation and translation of folk tales and questionable historical documents.

As a book it wasn’t that old, no, it seemed to be an old text book for this mare’s class.

“The spear in the stone?” I said to myself. Neither of the wounded earth ponies beside me noticed my words.

All told, I spent a fortnight in that hospital. Sallow Smile and I had a couple good laughs and a similar number of serious conversations. Many of those conversations were somber. She came from the other side of the empire, just as Drying Wool had. The stallion laying on the cot to the immediate right of me I also got to know. He had taken a touch of shrapnel to his barrel and neck. Head Wind was his name, a large stallion with the kind of musculature sculpturists would die to get their hooves on. Not to say that he was a pretty stallion, quite the opposite, in fact. His demeanor was coarse and he wasn’t on the friendliest terms with Smile. But he was a veteran and he was a person who was in a convenient location. The large earth pony and I got on as well as could be hoped.

In a turn of events that I had not predicted, he was interested in the book as well. If only for the entertainment value, it had illustrations. The nurses saw no problem in both of us sitting together after meals, reading the book. To be more truthful, I read it out loud for us both. I wasn’t sure if he was literate, and I wasn’t going to ask. No, it was pleasant just having someone being next to you. It helped keep me distracted from all of my lingering doubts. One of the first things I had done upon waking had been taking some stationary and writing a letter to Trace, and one to my parents. Throughout my stay, I’d received nothing. Well, nothing except the roundabout attention of someone who socially wouldn’t be caught dead reading about the fairies and forest gods of yore.

So, on a colder night than usual, the two of us were sitting on my cot. The light wasn’t the best, and I knew for a fact that he hadn’t bathed in the time that I had known him. We were enjoying what was the third tale enclosed in the book.

“So that buck’s cock just up and disappeared? I mean I heard about it falling off after gettin’ smelly like and green, but…” He leaned over to me, practically speaking into my ear, before chuckling loudly. It was an odd sensation, his breath was blazing against my ear. That same ear twitched before I made it lie down.

“I would assume that it fell off and he just didn’t notice. Also, that is the most horrid thing that I have ever heard. Though, I think the magical disappearing cock is the worst that I have ever read.” I said, bumping shoulders with what had become my institutional best friend. ‘

“The best thing I ever read was a sign that said: ‘Hawt Mare n’ mores’.” His serious expression in the incandescent lighting gave way under my sly one.

“I assume, because it is you that I’m talking about, that you went inside such an establishment. Pray tell, what was the ‘ n’ mores’?”

He stared at me for a right second before speaking.

“That was a griffon, she had the biggest damn shanks on her. And the noises she made were gooder than a turkey dinner.” Something about that boast seemed off, but honestly the confirmation that he could read was sufficiently novel. At that moment I read nothing into it.

“Well, my carnal conquerer of a comrade, do you wish to start the next story?” I asked him, both to change the subject, and well, to obtain the information. It was getting to be around midnight, and sleeping does spur healing. And healing was slowly creating and removing the itch on the inside of my chest cavity and on the bridge of my muzzle. The blade, for all the pain it caused, had avoided my lungs.

“I’m just gonna assume that first part was a nice thing. And yeah, starting something doesn’t mean it gon’ get done in that sitting. As much as I enjoy your company sitting like this, it’s doing a number on my ass.” He said to me quickly before continuing. “Actually,” he said before laying on his back with his rear legs laying off the end of my cot. “This works, just uh, sit back too.” So I did as requested. It was comfortable, physically, but the both of us had our heads and barrels pointed up and down at the book being held between our bodies. That space, being very small, led to the book being balanced on the ends of both of our ribcages.

“It just told us the ending, right in the title! And don’t even get me started if it’s one of those stories where a big buck with lots of meat on im’ hacks a monster to death. But, doesn’t go on to rut the shit out of the mare locked in with monster!”

“Only a single story was similar to what you described. In any case, virtue isn’t something to sneer at. Chivalrous, you are not.”

“Yeah, yeah, the last mare I fucked said the same thing. But her voice was a tad bit shriller than yours.” I just looked at him, disparagingly. I turned the page to an see an illustration of this story's’ protagonist. She was an average sized cerulean blue mare with a mane and horn the colour of ivory. A set of iron reinforced leather armour adorned her body.

“I take it back, I can take another speech about virtues if I getta see more of that flank!” He said to me in a hurried tone. He had this odd propensity to suddenly gain energy, though it was usually precipitated by sexual stimuli. I merely chuckled and moved the book up for a moment. A lightning-like dart of my eyes, and I had my answer.

“Good, good, I was wondering,” I said under my breath. The book slid back into place between us. So, in that next second, he lightly tapped my back leg with his.

“I ain’t a whore, iffin you wanna see the goods, pay me or dine me.” He said to me in a harsh manner; However, there was a softness in it, a playful softness.

“Whore or not, I needed to check your blood flow, you did enjoy the image of the mare. Unless, you would rather have Smiles check that to see if it still works. You wouldn’t want it to fall off…” He kicked me again. And this time he had the contrary expression.

“It works, trust me. If you have to check, I guess you could. I can’t fault a horny buck like yourself.”

I felt a flush as he said this. I was more than a little glad that the most powerful light source in the hall at night was my horn. It was that touch of huskiness in his voice that caused my blood flow to shift. Some part of my mind insisted this had been some completely normal teasing between bucks, but it wasn’t quite up to snuff. I killed my horn light and turned to him.

“Oh, no it just disappeared. My horn. Now you're the horniest buck in this bed!” I said with vehemence that was only half falsity.

He slunk out of bed, his weight lifting on the bed made the entire cot recoil. He outweighed me, that was for sure, and his sheath was objectively handsome. I had a number of strange thoughts that night. My normal trains of thought being redirected to foreign rails; exotic rails and somewhat frightening ones as well. He began to snore in his own cot almost immediately. That certainly didn’t help allay any of those thoughts.

We did not speak of that interaction, but we did resume what had been our routine. Consuming food, reading the story with the attractive mare protagonist, and speaking in amicable terms. Though there were others around us, we mostly stayed together. Sallow called us each others’ shadows. It was a strange fortnight. I think that the novelty of a situation is an indicator for how long it feels. In that hospital, reading that long yet enthralling series of tales, it was as if time itself had stopped. It behaved in that manner for at least the first week and a half.

Three things tore me from this warped sense of time. The first was something I had dreaded even before arriving in this place. This was an answer to the question that, likely, led to me spending time in this place. I had spent every moment of Mail Call in the throes of hope and dread, this event reminded me of that quantum mechanics thought experiment. Graphene’s Goose. It involved a box with a goose inside. If an electron spin detector registered a positive spin, it would release a deadly gas into the chamber. If it was a negative spin, then it would be left unreleased. The confounding thing is that from the outside there would be no way to know either way. Graphene had invented it as a way to show how absurd the predictions of quantum mechanics were when applied to a real world scenario. Everytime mail call was announced, I felt like an experimenter staring at the sealed box.

When the mail pony came by and hoofed me a letter, I could feel my diaphragm contract, I looked at the letter for a moment. It was enough time for my mind to become a dusted chalkboard, rapidly being filled with possibilities, all of them being more horrific than the last.

I felt a wave of surprise when a hoof softly impacted my shoulder. Head Wind had placed it there, which was the first time he had displayed our rapport like that. The mail pony had as many letters to deliver as I had worries plaguing my mind. I was sitting on the end of my cot and Wind had come up behind me, leaving a foreleg on my bed to support himself. His breathing was audible from behind me, the wet rasp present in his baritone was nearly as comforting as his hoof on my fur.

“Come on mate, if ya don’t start breathin’ again, I’m gonna pull that paper out and read it myself, mostly on account of me bein’ curious and you not being awake.” He said this in his conversational tone. If I wasn’t familiar with this stallion, I would have taken offense.

“That implies that you can read multiple sentences without having a stroke,” I said this before turning my body to face Head Wind. I unconsciously laid my other hoof on his. It was shaking, even as my voice stayed as placid as a frozen lake.

“We both know that I can read just fine when I’m stroking. Now open the letter, Perm,” he spoke the last line with a dour, tender tone. He was guilt tripping me into facing the truth.

I pulled the letter onto my lap with a single flash of telekinetic force. I opened the letter with the bread knife I kept close to my bed.

It was a letter from the city of Maidenpool. It said, in effect, that my parents had died in their apartment. It had been struck by naval artillery. There were condolences and there was an attached apology for not getting this information to me sooner. Apparently, the indiscriminate shelling had built up quite a backlog of unidentified bodies.

At the very least, the Celestians had the decency to leave their teeth in identifiable shape. The shaking had become my very own earth quake, as if the earth itself was swallowing me up, as it had my parents. In that moment I could have killed a city of Celestians. In that moment, I wanted to storm the enemy positions with a knife in my teeth and a feeling of invincibility granted by faith in a just creator.

I had made several surveys of this hospital. It had nearly three thousand patients, and was covered in a light dusting of snow, and I knew that I could leave if I desired it. A one-man crusade was the only right course of action to my mind.

I moved to get up. I felt the pressure on my shoulder increase. Wind was keeping me down. And on some level, that was enough to keep me sedate. If I wanted to leave, I needed to do it without causing a scene.

“Mate, you always talk about thinking. It’s your thing, you scrawny son of a camel. Don’t stop doing it!”

His voice had a cold intensity to it. He had put my problems onto himself. He was expending effort on my bettering my existence, or at the very least, preventing me from worsening it. I had only known him for less than a fortnight; this was absurd, every part of it. I wanted to go out and die, to find something to die for, because as I stared into the abyss of my future life, I could see nothing worth living for.

My lungs released the air that had been trapped in their lower sections for a painful epoch. As I did this, the pressure on my shoulder diminished.

My jaw was clenched, the muscles in my body were flush with blood and ready to move. Every part of me was waiting to avenge. Every part of me was equally impotent. Every part was equally unable to change what had happened.

My healing wounds felt warm, comforted by the adrenaline and the endorphins released by my brain.

“I hear ya, if ya wanna go outside, with me, I’m ready,” He said with rapidity. If I was going to make a break for it, he was going to be the one that stopped me. Ergo, he wanted to stop me doing something that I would regret. At some future point.

With limbs that felt like live wires, I moved off of the bed in a controlled, borderline graceful motion. A single continuous telekinetic tendril positioned my coat over my body. It was thick and it stank. It would work. He followed in my wake, and, at this point, we were cleared to leave the place for walks, short ones, at least. In the span of time it took me to walk to the nearest exit with my Earth Pony guardian, the odor of decay struck me as I trotted past the F-Wing of this field hospital. This place was a place of decay. The exit called to me. Outside the air was chilled, but at the very least, it was lively.

Perhaps a kilometer from the hospital, a hill was visible. Normally, it was the kind of hill that was made to be crested, just large enough to be impressive from the bottom and with a steepness that emboldened you rather than intimidated. I had made my way up to the top of it on two occasions, Head Wind accompanying me on both.

Some might find it odd for patients to do this kind of strenuous activity. All I can say is this; the first time we had hated it, and only finished because of the kind of free floating competition two companions have between them. The second time was considerably easier. Letting two wounded soldiers take charge of what would be called physical therapy actually worked, in this instance. Just because something is within your operational purview does not mean that you will truly treat it as such. No, the staff had greater issues on their minds.

The two of us had maintained a sheet of silence between the two of us as we made our way there. An unspoken agreement was made as we walked south, towards the hill, and to the front, where we had both bled. With legs that were impelled by raw emotion, I had taken the lead. Even then, I spared a glance behind me every so often. His pace was mechanical and calculated, in comparison. Every time I let my eyes fall on him, his met them. From the slight distortion in the shape of his left cheek I could tell that he had the inner flesh of it between his molars.

As we came to the foot of the hill path, I stopped and turned towards him.

“What would you have me do, oh great determiner of others’ lives?” I barked at him, my voice cracking with desperate intensity.

“Just climb the damn hill. Then we’ll have a little chat. Just the two of us,” He said simply, with a less affected accent than usual. The idea that I had cracked this boisterous stallion’s veneer stung me.

The trip to the top seemed to be of minute duration, and accomplished with greater ease than any before. My skin, under a layer of sweaty insulation, was achieving a new equilibrium with the outside air. The odd gust of wind bit into my face. But, even as these sensations registered, my mind only gave them the smallest of attentions. A mental image of my mother sitting peaceably with father in the room as the sirens went off couldn’t leave my mind’s eye. My parents were similar in that they paid little mind to something that seemed improbable. It would have been quick, I desperately hoped. Concussion waves acted in that manner. They were affable, a fine way to die, even if they had a habit of nudging your funeral in the closed casket direction. The notion that their building had collapsed and left them buried alive, or anything analogous, it was sealed from my conscious mind like a battleship taking on water; the flooding sections were separated by bulkheads. What was drowning inside said sections, I couldn’t know. The reasons manifold, as always.

For reasons I could only guess at, he had fallen significantly behind. In hindsight, I believe he was thinking about his words before he said them.

So, there was a moment where I was alone, king of the hill, the coniferous trees dusted with so much snow, my oh-so-static subjects. Like the rear segment of a compass needle, my eyes were drawn to the south. Somewhere out there, hordes of Celestians sharpened their blades.

Even if I had lost something, there was still country and in country, there was hope. War was hell, but only the most naive among us thought it was going to be like the stories in that book. No, in war, the innocents always suffer the most, and fighters leave what they once were as a matter of course, of necessity.

My internal monologue ended as I heard the crunch of snow from behind me.

“Perm, I’ve seen ponies act like this before. It don’t end well. I feel like camel shit, making you open that letter. Can ya tell me what was in it?”

“My parents were killed in an artillery bombardment,” I said without looking at him. Somehow, that rage had cooled. I knew now that I could wait until the hospital truly cleared me. My voice was monotone, softened yet containing a core of steel.

“Fuck. Permittivity, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Shit, I knew that it wasn’t something like your cat dying or some shit, but fuck.”

“You were right, even if you didn’t know what precipitated… this,” as I finished the statement my eyes drifted down my chest all the way to the hooves sunk into the snow. I didn’t expect what happened in the next moment. The sound of him approaching wasn’t surprising, in and of itself it was like the sun being slowly occluded by the earth to my left. Anger and fatalism was cast aside by the feeling of Head Wind’s muzzle pressing against my neck. The gesture cleared my head of definite dark thoughts and replaced them with many muddled ones. These weren’t cast of black ice, these thoughts had a tinge of connection.

“Hey, I gotta have a certain somepony finish that story, ya know, the one with the real-ly ruttable ass…” His voice was husky, yet reaching. This stallion had become my friend, my fellow knight of the cafeteria table. Without truly thinking, I pushed my neck against him before tapping my flank against his.

“Wind, thank you for keeping an eye on me, well, keeping an eye on everything but my rump,” I stopped my speech as I tried to form the right sentence.

“Awe, but that’s your best feature,” he said lightly. He had pressed his side and shoulder against me. So, we had come to another unspoken agreement. We would speak of this taboo attraction in jesting euphemisms, for the most part. It was better for us this way. We were both deeply comfortable with each other and very unsettled by the way ponies would see us, how our internalized moral senses were pushing against the very idea. In my case, I was grasping for anything that could distract me from my second newest revelation. The poison.

“No, don’t lie, what drew you in was my comely visage.” My head turned as I said this. He was taller than me by a slight margin, but his head was lowered.

“Can I say anything that’d help?” This entire situation felt off, he had followed me as I bled off enough emotion to transmogrify an inconsolable rage into a brittle numbness.

“Neither of us wronged the other… T-thank you,” I said with a stutter. In the back of my eyes I could feel muscles tensing; I knew the crucial damn was at risk. There was a silent period, of some duration. That magnetic attraction eventually pulled vision to the south. I remembered the night that had sent me here. The sight of Wool being wounded mortally flashed before me, and the vision of arcing energy seemed to burn itself onto my retinas once again. If I died now, or soon, I would fail to discover what that flash of power was, what killing someone who only had the same nationality of my parents would feel like, or, strangest of all… what this male beside me had between us.

If either of us had looked up at the right moment, we would have seen a glint. A poor mare’s comet, a harbinger, Number three.

“Permittivity, I give a shit about you,” He said tenderly. At that, I turned to face him. There was no time like the present.

“That heartens me, and scares me, yet-” I threw a fore leg around his neck. Really, there shouldn’t be a difference- I impelled my head forward-there was. His lips felt chapped, but taut. His form stiffened. But, after a second or two, it slackened, just before he drew up one of his legs and wrapped it around my neck. My tongue, randily pressed against his closed mouth, as if his lips were a guarded castle and my tongue was an invaders’ ram. He relented as I let out a noise of gratification. As my wet appendage entered his maw, he returned my noise with a lusty moan.

It was different, that couldn’t be denied; it was also equally erotic.

After a right minute of kisses and brusque caresses, we broke away. The need for oxygen isn’t a social more; able to be subverted, but required to live. For reasons unknown, the visibility of our mixing exhales was arousing.

“N’ mores?” I said in the manner of a question. It wasn’t. The large stallion tittered as he shifted his weight between his thick legs.

My impulsivity was something I tended to suppress, and so there was a moment where my blue tinted orbs drifted away from my-companion-to the south that called. I let a deep breath out of my chest as I felt him place his head against my cheek. I knew in that moment that he would find out first hoof how sensitive my ears were; they could be used as a barbaric lever to manipulate me, Trace had used them that way.

I thought without realizing the gravity of said thought. The noise of Wind pulling in air told me he was on the precipice of speech. But out in the farthest background a blinding light made itself known. In my memory, I remember that the wind was blowing south, later I would learn exactly how important that was.

Head Wind spotted this aberration as quickly as I did. My jaw was making its way towards my hooves at a laudable pace, whereas Wind continued that intake of breath.

It wasn’t brighter than a thousand suns at this distance, but it was a fierce competitor with the setting sun to our left. It was like a boisterous cousin of our home star decided decided it would be our guest. The noise was indescribable, like the earth was itself being played by the instruments of ponykind.

“If that was ours, there will be peace in our time, if it was theirs…” There was nothing else to say as we watched the beginning of a new age. Our personal heat was forgotten for a time. In the dying light of both stars, we lost ourselves. As we meandered our way back into the oppressive dark, I could feel something change inside.

The what of it was as obscured as that mad torch’s mechanics.

But, oddly, the why was all too evident.

Ultra-Violence, And Its Discontents (IV)

The restaurant had a calm to it. I have a pet theory about that. I think that when you know that the next moment is going to involve ponies pissing themselves, you really start to appreciate the serenity of normal existence. The happy, yet empty expression on Reflex’s face was a ruse. He was a better actor than I.

We had been sitting there, waiting for someone to make a move for five minutes. The glances at their weapons had stopped occurring. They must have finally felt confident in their guns’ actual existence. To be fair, small arms were kind of illegal, so the odds of them having any extensive practice with their guns was slim.

It was only as our server came towards us that they made their move. The buck with the bulge on his side raised a hoof, pushing against something right under his hood. I could only see a slim bar slide into place just in front of his muzzle. The fellow beside him had turned his body, going for a pistol in his coat. For an amatuer, going for your mouth-held gun with your mouth makes sense. For someone who’s been trained, the idea of losing sight of an enemy would make them gag, or at least it would for me.

We were in the right; these Arabians were committing a capital offense just by having these weapons in their possession. Arming and aiming them at Rangers? That was a summary execution. Reflex Sight flicked his eyes in their direction.

“Well, you did take me to dinner first,” I said quietly. Lidded eyes and a throaty tone sold it for what it wasn’t.

The mouth-holder steadied himself. I could swear that he was shaking under that loose barding. We took that moment to move our guns closer to our mouths. Our dark little alcove would create a reverberation effect when the waves from the gunshot hit the walls. Ear protection is worth its weight in rage, sometimes.

Reflex was faster than anyone there. His pistol was drawn and aimed in less time than it took for me to get mine free from the holster. His gunshots were rapid. Bullets tore from the gun’s barrel only to slide into the buck with the mouth-gun. His body received three of the five shots spat in his direction. However, this did jack shit to the guy right next to him. Whatever kind of automatic gun he had was pretty powerful. He unloaded the thing, and the rapid but distinct sound of Reflex’s pistol were drowned out by its roar.

Reflex rolled out into the space between the table and his seating. The battle saddle user had no training to compensate for something as simple as hitting the deck, so all of his lead was buried in the wall where Reflex had sat half a second before, and just about everywhere else. I think a scribe would have said that the slugs were buried within a large probability cone; I’d just say that he lacked experience, not that he’d ever get any. The moment that his gun ran dry, he froze. It was like the implications of a finite magazine had never actually occurred to him, or maybe it the chaos that had been let loose in the restaurant had gotten to him. It wasn’t the screams that did it, I doubt that screams of revulsion and surprise were new to him. Ramsgard was a tough place. It was the knowledge that he had caused this, that people were going to have nightmares about this. Having a just cause is good and all, believing in a justification is a nice luxury, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that one is ready to become a killer.

As I moved my head and pulled the trigger with my tongue, I didn’t really think about what I was doing. Three times my shots disturbed the air, and the fleeing patrons, just a little bit more. He hit the ground, having been injured severely. If he didn’t receive medical attention in the next few minutes, he would surely die.

It was only after I glanced to Reflex that I felt my adrenaline rampage abate. He had a bullet wound, complete with exit hole, through his shoulder, and a series of deep grazes across his barrel.

My brain built a full train of thought as I walked swiftly over to the combatant Reflex had shot. Amid air that reeked of urine and cordite I realized something pretty odd.

The infirmary wasn’t in the best shape, but honestly, if I held up as well as that place, I’d be pretty well off. Reflex hadn’t been hurt real badly, and an application of healing spells and a couple days off duty would put him right. No, the real surprise was the Arabian that Reflex had shot up. The stallion had left a mess on the floor, but he was breathing, so I’d obtained some help to carry the both of them to the nearest clinic. Getting volunteers is a lot easier when you have a gun between your teeth.

The one that I had shot died on the way to the clinic, but the other was luckier. Feeling Reflex’s blood flow onto me as I carried him was unsettling; being that close to a bleeding friend wasn’t something that I had ever felt. Getting to the nearest infirmary didn’t take that long. That’s why the Arabian had lived, but weirdly, I couldn’t really remember it.

As I waited for the surgeons to finish operating on the Arabian, I sat beside Reflex’s bed. The poor guy had a line of stitches up his side and a bloody hole packed with gauze in his shoulder. He had fallen asleep about halfway through our trip back. It startled me when I heard him clear his throat.

“That was sure was fun, Ice,” he said clearly. There wasn’t that much painkiller in him; Ranger doctors were the ‘tough love conquers all’ kind of ponies.

“You could say that, but you’d be wrong,” I murmured before getting to my hooves.

“Icepick, Icepick, you’ve always had this weird fixation on my health…” he said, pausing for comedic effect. I trotted forward and slugged him in the shoulder. “At least, I thought you did,” he mumbled before whimpering.

“Wrong shoulder, wuss,” I said to him with an unamused tone. He chuckled lightly at the words and my eye roll.

“So you’re fine. I mean, you’d think the one with the flying metal cutie mark would be the one to get hit with flying metal. But no, you just hang around making sure that I don’t die.” He spoke like he was gossiping to another Ranger.

“I just like having you around is all, even if you are the kind of buck to wear sunglasses indoors.”

“Thanks, you’re a better friend than most. But, uh-” He looked down at one of his forelegs before moving it closer to his eyes, wincing in the process. “It’s like, late O'clock. I’ll be fine, go rest. I know I don’t weigh that much, and gunfights don’t really phase you, but you should still try and get some rest.” He really wasn’t wrong, but I still had a job to do. I had saved the Arabian’s life, and I was going to interrogate the fuck.

“You’re probably right. I’ll see you soon, and next time we eat a meal, it’ll be at the Mess hall, where the most dangerous thing is the way they burn the soup,” I joked, turning away.

“I can’t wait. Night, Ice,” he said, a tone of accomplishment glazing his voice. I spun around quickly and pressed my lips to his forehead. For some reason, it seemed like the right thing to do. Getting lined back up with the doorway was accomplished just as quickly, and with a quick flourish of my tail. There were some moments when you wished your body didn’t smell like fear and cordite. Then again, the infirmary reeked of it as well, and it was doing pretty well.

He saw me leave. Letting an injured friend have some peace of mind… That was what mattered in the situation, or one of the things that did. It didn’t take a long time to reach the OR door. Nothing happened for a long time, the only other pony in sight being a knight third rank who refused to acknowledge my existence. I stood beside the door for two hours, before two ponies came into view.

The two mares were wearing uniforms that I had only seen on a few occasions. They were wearing light barding, and they were glancing at me with interest. A tan coloured mare stepped in my direction before looking me in the eyes.

“Knight second class, Icepick, correct?” Her voice was crisp and precise.

“Yeah, what department are you from?” I returned her look and stood just a little straighter. I had a head and half on this mare. The unicorn looked unimpressed. I guess the horn added a little height, and a superiority complex.

“Department of Internal Affairs, or the Constabulary, as you might recognize, would be an accurate enough description. Now, in the purpose of succinctness, my name is Agave Tart. This mare next to me is the head coordinator of our department's counter-terrorism unit.” Agave turned to face her superior.

“Thank you for the introduction, Lieutenant. Now, I have a few questions for our knight.” The older mare recognized the lieutenant before focusing her attention on me.

“Ask away, I’m just waiting for them to get done,” I told her with a hoof briefly pointed at the OR’s door, telling her what a I really meant.

“You have no right to interrogate, Knight. That would be a multifaceted breach of the law. With that out of the way-” I steamed. This breeding bitch. But I held my anger down. “-let me ask what happened. In detail.”

I told my story to the two of them, one listening and watching my face like a bird of prey, the other transcribing my words even as a recorder listened away from one of her barding pockets, ‘to garner the highest possible fidelity’. By the time I recounted the series of events I could feel my adrenaline rush beginning to cut out.

“Thank you knight, I do sympathize with you, if I were a knight, I would want to wring the answers to my prescient queries from the neck of an Arabian. But, alas, the laws we maintain are the laws of old Equestria. In any case, it says that you bypassed your language classes on a technicality.” She finished with a polished sounding speech.

I didn’t enjoy being compared to a barbarian. Then again, she wasn’t really wrong. I did kind of plan on going in there and beating the shit out of him as soon as I was able. Still, the idea held some appeal to me. Who really follows the law when their friend was almost killed. When some asshole fucker who shouldn’t have even had a gun was the one who had done it.

“Icepick, how exactly were you planning on speaking with this stallion?” That question got me. I hadn’t really thought about that, I just felt that it was guaranteed that when you started breaking bones they’d always talk. It wasn’t inconceivable that I could’ve had a translator in there with me.

“I would’ve had a translator in there with me,” I responded about two seconds after her question.

“Yes, I’m sure. If we need any other questions answered, we’ll contact you or your commanding officer. For what it’s worth we’re pleased that you brought this stallion here, it might just be the break we’ve been looking for,” she said before turning to her subordinate.

I stood there for a moment, then shot a look at their armoured security detail. They stayed stock still. I waited for a response for a moment and got nothing from them. However, I did catch an interesting string of words from the subordinate speaking just a little loudly. And as prim as it was, I had no problems making it out.

“The terror cell, this stallion was most certainly a part of it, the weapon of Zebra manufacture is nearly unequivocal!” Funny thing was, as I exited the building whistling nonchalantly, I almost wanted to kiss the pretentious mare.

Maintenance was the same as it always was, a lot of technicians fiddling with a lot of cranky arcana-tech. The place smelled like ozone and grease, not exactly a fifty bit perfume, but for the right pony it was familiar, and to a smaller number it was home.

For me it was always a place where I could learn something… while waiting for them to complete a task that they said would be done two days ago. Then again, they weren’t the requisitions department. Those ponies had more ways of being behind schedule than they had forms for you to fill out, which really was a feat of bureaucratic engineering.

I made my way over to the technician in charge of my armour. He had the entire back plate open. The black-coated stallion was practically lying inside the armours torse.

“Hey,” I said simply before lightly rapping the armour with a hoof.

“Knight, right?” He said to me without looking.

“Yes.”

“You mind coming back, I’m kinda replacing the crystal catalyst in this armour’s reactor.” He sounded exasperated, and just a little frightened.

“That sounds important, what’ll happen if you mess up?” I asked, not really convinced that his attitude was warranted, or maybe I just didn’t like the guy.

“Probably nothing, but if something else in the room decides to act up, something that makes a very large, pretty specific, magic field, then we’ll be dead. This reactor will explode with the power of a balefire egg.” He said this to me with a dismissive wave.

Like any person with a bit a curiosity or you know, a healthy fear of death, would instantly be thinking up a string of questions.

“What specific magic field?” I asked, I was a little alarmed, it could be heard.

“Well, if the catalyst isn’t correctly placed and the startup charge from another reactor, either a big one within a couple hundred meters or another armour reactor starter within a few hoof lengths, then the energy generation in the device happens. Just not in a controlled manner. Spark reactors need to be very precise in their energy generation, or else things go wrong. To answer your next question, this isn’t an issue for a properly maintained reactor.” By the end of his explanation he sounded bored, annoyance takes more out of you than an explanation you’ve given dozens of times.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t want to be a walking bomb.”

“Says the mare with the shrapnel cloud cutie mark,” he said simply. Then he laughed loudly, exactly one time. He sounded like a jackal with a dash problem.

“When will it be done?” I glared at the back of his head, even as my tone stayed purely business-casual. He picked himself up and out of the splayed armour. The black stallion gave a mock salute, the saluting hoof covered in an unidentifiable fluid. A smile almost appeared on my face. Jack-hole had smeared it on his forehead.

“The reactors reassembled, so really all I have to do is give the inside a wipe down and replace a couple of servos that weren’t quite up to snuff.” He had lost a little of his attitude. Really, he wasn’t a terrible stallion, he just had a lot on his plate and a little reflective junk on his forehead. I could almost sympathize. Then again, none of his saddle bags smelled like head.

“Estimate?” I said simply, looking slightly down at the short stallion.

“Uh, it’ll be done by…” He was picking his own deadline, that I could believe in. “1430, yeah,” he finished with a flourish of his sticky hoof. I dodged, even if he didn’t really have the reach to get it on me. Even if he knew it was there.

“Thanks a million. I’ll see you soon.” My voice was to the point, but it wasn’t really cold.

The time was convenient, mostly because my acting CO had told me to come to her back to her office at 1400. Making my way over there early, 0700 or so, was my normal routine. In my last couple days she hadn’t had anything for me to do that didn’t involve armour. Which was stupid, she hadn’t read through my personnel file all the way. It said in plain equish that I had a technical certification. Down south, the place where I had been from ages 0-13, they had enough Arabian speakers and not enough scribes to run all of their maneframes and sensor arrays. I had been educated for sensor stewardship, so being a knight with computer and network skills made sense. Not that command, by and large, ever utilised my additional skills.

The meeting went mostly as like it usually did, other than her praise for helping Reflex get to safety. That was weird, not that I knew this paladin really well, but getting praise from higher ups is rare.

Knowing that I’d be needed here at 1400, and looking at the time. It still early in the morning, so I decided I’d check on Reflex.

Her office door was closed. It was also unlocked. When I peeked into the room I realized that it wasn’t just the paladin in the room. No, it was the subordinate mare from the night before. Both turned to watch me as I entered. The paladin pointed to a chair in front of me with an outstretched hoof.

“So, you’re telling me that there’s a terror cell operating within the city?” the Paladin asked the operative.

“That’s what he told us, not that that isn’t suspect, as all information is. But, we’re reasonably sure. I even obtained the location,” Agave said to her. She didn’t even glance in my direction.

“Reasonably isn’t good enough. We’re Rangers, not warlords, remember? Not to say that your information won’t be included in the next intelligence briefing that Waters receives.” Paladin Onion Flavouring leaned back in her aged desk chair.

“Is that it then, are we not going to act on that intelligence, for all of her flaws the mare next to me was the one to get that prisoner, at great potential cost. Will we sit on our haunches–” Agave’s exquisite call to action was cut short by Onion’s hoof smacking the desk in front of her.

“Is that the kind of thing you say in the presence of your superiors? I thought that they ran a tighter ship. Now, you saw that mare enter, because you just used her a prop for your impromptu speech. As an intelligent mare, you should wonder why she just now entered, as she is now. I have an assignment for the both of you, regardless of your individual animosities.” I had smiled at every word of hers, until she mentioned working with this pretentious mare.

“What do want us fine mares to do? I mean she has the horn, I’d probably be good for unclogging drains. I’d be up for testing that.” Onion listened to me speak. There was even a twitch in her facial muscles. That meant it was real doozy for her.

“As curious as I am, and as much as I love your comedic attempts, I have to inform you that the task doesn’t involve a drain,” she said. Her bright yellow coat and green eyes fit her well, especially as she insulted the both of us. “It involves both of you, with your respective skills, gathering intelligence. That building you found, you’ll be observing it. I don’t trust my informants right now; until this Arabian was captured we had no idea that these terrorists were as organized as they are. Or supposably are. Honestly, if my statements remain ifs or have to be prefaced when speaking in any official capacity, I’ll scream.”

“I imagine I won’t be wearing my armour for this?” I asked, knowing the answer to my question before I asked it.

“You’re not Reflex, but you’re decent with a service pistol and built like a brick house. You’ll suffice. You'll both be dressing like them, dirty rags and all, so don't bother asking. Now, before you ask any other questions, let me point you towards my underling. His name is Guarana and he has a hell of a lot more energy than I do. Goodbye and goodnight. Oh, and don’t kill each other.” The mare finished her speech, before pulling a flask from one of her desk compartments. When she opened it, I could smell it from the across the desk. It smelled like paint thinner.

The two of us said exactly nothing as we left our chairs and then the room. She shut the door telekinetically. I turned towards her, my face morphing into a sneer. The hallway was empty excluding us.

“I work alone!” I yelled at her.

“N-no,” she responded, with just a hint of stutter. To be fair, my face had shifted in the time it took her to respond. My dopiest grin took the place of the sneer.

“With that out of the way, let’s shake,” I said before extending my right forehoof in her general direction. Everyone deserves at least one slate cleaning.

The two of us made our way into the city by cover of night. We had a stake out position to reach. Our trip was uneventful, like most of the trips into the city. Don’t take this as an indication that most of the city was safe, though. The Rangers didn’t maintain a strict monopoly on violence. Then again, if the crime was committed with a sharpened stick, why bother. Sticks don’t penetrate powered armour.

The place for our observations was picked because it offered high concealment, an effective viewing angle and good cover for our story.

As we walked into the Inn a loud bell rang. The stallion running the counter barked a hello at us. Agave had her head pointed down, it was customary. He looked to the taller pony, which was me. I pointed my head at him, and he could only see my eyes under the thin and poofy cloth I was wearing. I said my rehearsed line, which put a puzzled look on his muzzle. Everything went to plan as Agave spoke up in a formal arabic accented to sound like it came from the south.

He spoke with her for about two minutes before handing her a key as she passed him a number of paper bills.

I pushed ahead of her as her head lowered to the floor, again. I grabbed the key from her and unlocked the door to our room. It was small and had a paper-like screen for a window. But, it was on a latch, and at night we could peer down at the compound from there. The floor of the room was half covered by some shittily spun rugs, with a hay filled sleeping mat lying in the middle of the room. On the bright side the room was actually cool, adobe has that going for it, along with a lot of sound dampening. This building was old, I should mention that. It had a number of shell holes and shrapnel scars. It had been here for the initial sack of the city. The hardwood door was older than me by quite a bit.

“I think that he believed it,” Agave said as she pulled her hood down with a magical tug.

“Do I really look like a southern trader?” I asked, my head turning sideways slightly.

“To wit: My husband is a glorious example of the equity of god, his body didn’t know when to stop growing, and his brain never started.” She said in a low voice, before emitting a single peel of laughter.

“Mare, I never took you for the religious type… good thing you aren’t the funny type,” I said quietly, and with that tinge of fake exuberance. It took her a second to parse the comment. It’s always the ponies that think they’re the smartest person in the room that leave their ego where everyone can see it.

“Knight, you know as well as I do what we think of religion.”

I looked at her with a cocked head. I had better things to do than arguing with her, like napping. I said as such, and she looked oddly pleased. Under the circumstances hot bunking was a the best thing that we could do – and knowing that we were gonna do the spook stuff after dark, it was the least contentious thing in that room.

Lying down on the mat I realized that I would be living a lie, in super close proximity to someone who disliked me, and basically everything I stood for. This wasn’t going to be fun, but if it gave me a shot at the slags that shot Reflex, well, I could stick it out.

The night we arrived was quiet. No-one did anything that even looked odd outside the place. Honestly, the time I spent watching normal Arabians just living their lives felt wrong. Other than learning a couple Arabian curses as I watched the trickle of ponies going home or visiting friends in the middle of the night, it felt like the night was wasted.

We didn’t complain though; for every minute I spent watching old ponies stumble around in the dead of night, I had one spent watching the few wispy clouds drift in and out of the moonlight. All those furtive glances upward add up, is what I’m saying.

It wasn’t till the third day of eating weird food procured by Agave that we spotted something in the last two hours before daylight. It was a single stallion leaving the place.

He was wearing a thick set of clothing and had a pair of heavy looking saddle bags, but other than his late exit it wasn’t that odd. To me.

“He never entered that building,” she said, confusing me.

“Alright, that seems unlikely. Isn’t it more likely that they just came in when we weren’t looking?”

“One of your premises is wrong. We aren’t the only ones watching this place, not even the only rangers watching it. There is another pair set up a block north of here, though their cover is that they’re brothers stopping by for a few days.” There had been an itchy sound to her voice when she’d said that. I let it slide, but I knew at least five ponies that knew their parents; they all turned out alright.

“But there are more out there, spooking the place.” She nodded at that, like I was a foal. “So, how have you stayed up to date, I really hope I haven’t missed morse code smoke symbols?” I grinned at my own joke, I knew several ponies with siblings that wouldn’t do that, so-

“The market has informers, and those that can keep their muzzles shut.”

“Right.” This all made sense, and that was good. The sooner that we knew that this was the place... Well, I’d want to be the one doing the team sent to take the place out, one way or another.

The sound of knocking on the door opened my eyes. I walked my sweaty carcass over to it, lazily. I heard her mutter an arabic phrase. Trotting over to the door, I felt a little uneasy, judging from the level of light in the room it was pretty close to noon.

I still had on my robes, that probably wasn’t helping the whole heat distribution thing out. But anyway, I fished out the key and slid it into the lock. A quick rotation of my head disengaged the lock. Right after that the door pushed open, I moved to my right, and as the door swung towards me I caught a glimpse of a much larger pony. I tensed and had but a second to approach this whole scenario. There would be another arabian holding…

The buck swung his head in my direction, a dagger between his teeth for the record it looked pretty sharp). I stepped forward and leaned my weight on my right foreleg, my left being bound for his windpipe. My hoof made contact with a sound that was far too similar to an apple hitting the ground. Just before I turned my head to face the doorway, I glimpsed his eyes bugging out as he dropped, any plans to attack me forgotten.

The other arabian was standing beside Agave, their own knife pressed against her cloth covered coat, this place was deserted. Ponies here had an attitude of: if it isn’t my business, I’m not going to make it my business. We three were at a standstill.

His mouth was full and I wasn’t expecting help from anyone here. We stood like this for at least ten seconds, watching each other, as he started to walk back into the hall with Agave in tow, a thought popped into my head. When I said that I was completely unable to speak Arabian, that was a lie, but a small one; I knew a couple, memorable phrases.

I stood there inert. I was trying to remember one of those phrases. See, a call for help would have been ignored, that was simple self-preservation on their part…

but not everyone knew that assholes with knives were doing the kinds of things that assholes with knives are prone to doing. So, I had that going for me.

Finally it clicked, I shouted at the top of my lungs an obscenity that can’t even translated, it involves several goats, a virgin filly and a bucket of crotch rot… I think.

Whatever the fuck I said, it brought a lot of heads into the hallway. That was enough distraction for him to look away, when really he should have kept his knife pressed against her throat. He had only been about four meters away, and by the time he looked back I had raced ahead, turned around, and was in the process of planting both of my rear hooves into his pliable fucking skull.

He stood dazed, before Agave drove herself forward and between me and the wall. I let her go. The buck, bloodied and with a broken muzzle streamed forward. I angled my body and jumped out of his stabbing arc. I think his failed stabbing had left his mind blank, even as I turned and struck his muzzle from the side, the side opposite to the knife.

He dove forward to slice my face open, I reared up and dodged the edge of his blade, and with his body over extended and lowered to the ground I had the grounds to drive my body forward and into his from his left side. Before bringing us to the floor I drove a knee into the base of his jaw. I could feel the bone of his inner jaw fracture, the muscle around it bruising instantly, relaxing as his mouth swung open on instinct.

The knife dropped with us.

The stallion was shocked by my coming out on top, but in a few seconds he would be struggling, trying to throw me off. But he was pinned under me, his back legs pressed against the ground at the knee. There isn’t really leverage there. His muscles went all kinds of berzerk before he passed out: I had been pressing the hard edge of a forehoof against his one of his carotid arteries, for enough seconds. For what it was worth, the cover would have been kind of intact, but they knew what we were doing, so it was worth jack fucking shit. Still, it felt good, winning a fight always does... for a little while, at least.

I looked up from the unconscious stallion. Agave had run off, and after thinking that, I was about a half a second from sprinting back into our room. But, then I saw our door slam shut. Agave, looked the other way in the hall before looking in the direction of me.

“Covers blown, we need to leave,” I yelled in her direction.

“I agree, the insurgent in there is immobilized. Also-” She said while telekinetically throwing me my equipment, which amounted to my service pistol. “-let me lock him down.” She moved up to me, before gesturing me to move out of the way. Is she going to shoot him? The flaring light of her horn caught me off guard. A little ball of light struck him on the forehead. It didn’t really look like much, his leg kicked a little, that was it.

“What was that?” I asked with an edge to my voice, unicorn magic was usually the kind of thing that if one told you about theirs, you’d just kind of nod along.

“Paralysis spell, it makes the brain flip the ‘switch’ that normally flips when we sleep. It stops the brain's conscious impulses from moving our bodies. When we’re done with this, I’ll elaborate further.” She said this with a little fluster, like I had pulled out her stocking and was showing everyone. Whatever.

“You’re right, let’s go.” I said, pointing my body towards the exit, she was gonna have to work those stubby legs to keep up with me.

The gate security thought we were arabians up until the point we removed our hoods and spoke a little equestrian. From there we had an emergency meeting with Onion, who basically told us that we were on a clock. We had an hour and a half to prepare, Agave made her way to the security building. There were quite a few on notice, apparently the assault was going to happen in the next forty-eight hours.

Personally I was just getting myself in order, and that involved visiting the repair bay.

“Took ya long enough,” the black-coated stallion said to me as I trotted up to his section of the bay.

“Really wasn’t my choice, but–” I went from looking at him to looking at what he had affixed to my armour. A quad tube rocket system hung off of left side, and the ammo box bolted to the rear of my armour made the entire thing look off. The left side had my customary light machine gun, though he had replaced the ammo box and feed mechanism on that as well.

“Like it?” He looked at me curiously. I normally wouldn’t care, but this buck seemed to have but a lot of effort into this. Still, I had never really been a fan of missile launchers. “I thought that you in particular would like it,” he said before looking at my flank. I had dropped the smelly robes as soon as I had had the option, and had a normal undersuit in my bag so I was walking around like nature intended. I really wasn’t surprised to see his leer staying there. I had kinda ran here, so I was a little sweaty, although this sweet mechanic buck didn’t seem to mind. My brain filled with a images and possibilities.

I cleared them out right as I turned my head to meet his eyes. Maybe later.

“Yeah, it could be pretty useful,” I said quickly, before letting my tone grow just a hint huskier. “But, I’m a little surprised you remembered that the mare who left her armour in here had an explosion on her ass” He looked down, and I bet his cheeks were growing red. But, ya know, his coat was black. “Well, I guess you can answer later. Is it ready?” I said in a more soldiery tone of voice, while pointing my head and a foreleg at my armour.

His head followed my hoof, and he nodded briskly. It was almost like he was embarrassed, or something.

“Last thing, what’s your name? I really don’t want to have to walk into the room full of balefire eggs to hunt you down,” I said as I dropped my bag and pulled out my undersuit. To his credit, he only snuck a couple glances at me as I pulled the suit onto my body.

“Oil Can,” the buck said simply before releasing the clasps holding the armour to its support frame. By the time I had gotten the piece of clothing zipped up he had opened the armour up outward like a clamshell.

I had a single memorable thought as I stepped into it: If it was a clamshell, did that make me a pearl? Judging by the way Oil looked at me, maybe.

I exited through a door to the outside No-one else in the repair bay seemed to notice or care. I was mostly loving the feeling of servos and steel after a week or so of ground pounding. It was like the world was back in order.

We assembled in the courtyard. There were thirty of us in all. About half of us were those security ponies. The regular Knights and Paladins were standing on one side of the yard, the security people on the other. I had missed the initial introductions, but I caught all of the important information. There was going to be a feint attack up one of the main avenues, by the Rangers. Ten or so of us were going up that route. Meanwhile, the main assault was going to be done by the security forces. They were deemed more able to do it without excessive collateral damage.

I didn’t blame them, but the idea of unarmoured personnel going up against firearm equipped insurgents seemed sketchy. I formed up with the group. I would be second in command by rank. Being in the assault force itself, or a good honest feint for the assault was enough.

We marched out of the compound. Maybe I was eager to do my part, or maybe I wanted to give some of these assholes a prostate exam with my armoured hoof… No, it was definitely the second one.

We had made it about three quarters of the way to the intended stopping point, I had my IFF overlay scanning the vicinity, but I didn’t see a damn thing. Damned red thing.

No, like most patrols, especially ones that involves more than a small number of knights, the Arabians crammed themselves inside their homes. Doors were locked, that kept the noise of us breaking a suspected buildings’ door to a minimum. Not a whole lot else.

The noise of servos that weren’t mine told me that Paladin Sonic was walking up to me. “You needn’t be so tense,” the older buck told me. I’m sure that if I had looked behind me I would have seen nods of agreement.

I signalled my own microphone with a thought. I decided not to speak, instead taking a deep breath and a gulp of water from my reservoir.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t right. They would have put up a fight. If, if they hadn’t already moved all the contraband and personnel. I thought I had been angry, but when that pang of powerlessness hit, of not being able to do anything, it was bad. I don’t think it was justice that I wanted, but I wanted something. I had always been able to make things right when I was a kid, all it took were some tough words or a few bruises on them and every once in while, me.

I had just started to feel the adrenaline, when, in the peripheral of my Vision, a mark flicked to red. I was a tenth of a second from yelling a warning.

The big fucking boom from behind me alerted all of them just fine.

I heard screams of pain from the microphones of the injured, that fucker had set off a remote bomb… That realization both pissed me off and worried me. I shoved my words into the choir of injured ponies. “Knight Gumball , you’re in command, if anyone is in shape and not needed for injury care. Come with me!” After that I shut off my radio. I set off at a dead sprint, his IFF marker was still visible. Pushing myself with a combination of adrenaline and magical energy, I knew I could get within range of him.

I could hear my blood pumping through my ears and that was about it as I ran the bastard down. When I turned a corner to a back street, my compass revealed another of them. They were sitting behind a good stack of sandbags on the roof of a three story building, the sighted me by sound before I even realized it. The harsh ping of a high velocity peice of metal being deflected off of your armour always sucks. Someone up there had used something with some power, but that doesn’t mean they had used it well. The other two attempted to wound me with small caliber pistols. I had dropped my rear legs, like I was sitting down for a comfortable chat.

The explosion of the hard fired missile accelerating of my launcher must have surprised one of them, they flashed green in the half second between me activating the mechanism for launch and the explosion. I hadn’t forgotten about the running buck, and as I ran past the remnants of their position I felt another pang of worry. If they ever had the tools, they could probably kick us back to the sea…

There was no-one except me and the pony I was determined to catch. I even felt like I should smack the ‘on’ button for my radio.

“We need assistance, they had the gall to hit us. This is Specialist Agave calling on all Ranger units not currently occupied to converge on the square southwest of the target location!” I had felt like we had been walking into a trap. Sometimes it sucks to be right.

Then, I caught sight of him. The running buck seemed to realize this at the same time his body started to shit out on him. Power armour doesn’t make you the fastest, but when you're putting a lot of the strain on the armour you have staying power when you’re moving. Yeah. He made a last minute dash into another alley. He didn’t, couldn’t shake me.

When I made the same turn he had collapsed onto a pile of trash. He gave me an expression of disgust that slowly shifted to a grin. He spoke a line of Arabic to me, I even recognized one of the words. I realized then that I had no way of telling him to stand down, or even keep his hooves at his side. That train of thought and its tiny pull on my attention was what he wanted. From a stomach pocket he was pulling an object out. Whatever you want to say about him, the bastard kept his eyes trained on me and the rest of his body loose. I was about to tell him to stop doing that when he finished fishing it out, the thing was another half second from being tossed in my general direction. He didn’t have to throw it far.

I fired a long burst from my machine gun. The twenty bullets at point blank range tore threw him, he was dying before my eyes, quickly. I backed away from him, he might have set off an explosive, he had been fond of them. But more than that, I was struck by just how dead he was. Even if he had been shot in an intensive care unit stocked with healing potions and high caliber doctors and nurses, he would have been dead. Not that he was anywhere close. No, he was going to die in a pile of garbage stinking of food remains and feces. He knew it too. That was the fucking clincher. He had enough life in him to look at me with anger, and in the half minute I stood there it changed as the pile was dyed red, his face just looked resigned even as weaker and weaker words exited his muzzle.

I think it was a prayer. Some of it anyway. I had never really seen anyone die quickly enough for them to have no-one they wanted around, yet still have time to know it and make some kind of peace with the universe.

After I watched his eyes close, I turned around. There was too much shit flying to get wrapped up in the life of one insurgent. In the edges of my vision I spotted friendly EFS markers. My knights in sandy armour.

It was over, and I knew I had to say one goodbye. When I opened the door to his hospital room I didn’t expect to see a mare wearing a medical uniform standing beside his cot, a foreleg around his neck, with a foreleg of his around hers and a tail that was lazily wagging behind her. “Be out of here in a weeks, so what’s your barrack number?” Reflex said to the mare hanging off of him.

I stood there in the doorway as he realized my entrance, the nurse answered him, not knowing I was there, or just not caring. “Twenty-Three, west wing, room number forty-five,” she rattled off with a practiced ease, and a long draw with her tail. I wasn’t sure what they had been doing before, but I had several ideas.

This was normal for Reflex – he was a real mare eater, in both senses of the phrase – but I felt a stirring in my gut looking at the two of them. I moved past it before clearing my throat. “So, you wanna hear in gritty detail how it went south, and thanks to me down?” I said to the two ponies, though my eyes were locked onto Reflex’s. With a quick turn, and a brush of her tail past his muzzle she made her way out.

“Knights…” She said with a huff as she walked out, though the position of her tail as she walked out meant that she had given him a view. She had a pretty nice ass. Objectively speaking.

His face kept that lovable smile on it, he had gone from an attractive mare and her showy way of moving to another attractive mare that he was friends with and worried about…. You could never blame him, he did as we all did, just better, and I liked him a little too much for it.

“So, you’re getting out in a week?” I said to him as I trotted up.

“Yep, and back to duty in another,” he said quickly before pulling his wounded frame off of the bed. I shook my head at him before chuckling. I lowered my muzzle to place a single kiss on his lips, and to put a foreleg under his back. It was a closed mouth kiss, but my body told me that I wanted more. I bit my lip and suppressed that idea, with only a flick of my tail giving that idea away. As he broke away I let his body slowly fall back onto the mattress. “I’m glad that you came back all right, even if I wish I could’ve made sure of that myself.”

“We got what we needed,” I said to him, “it’s good that you’re gonna be fine, really, more than fine given it’s you.”

“Kissing up to me,” he said in a neutral tone, “it wouldn’t be the first time, and I really hope it won’t be the last.”

“If my head’s on straight then it won’t be… Really though, I remember you kissing up to me most of those times,” I said before giving his shoulder a gentle rub with a hoof.

“You might be right,” he said in a low voice of rare agreement. He had always been susceptible to a little closeness. “Hey, you promised gritty detail, irregardless of my weakness-”

“-es.” I finished for him.

“Thanks,” he said simply. I stuck my tongue out at him.

I looked at the edge of his bunk, he saw my look and scooted himself far enough for me to lie down. But, not enough for us to not touch. I rolled my eyes before setting myself down beside him, making sure to set up on his withers at least once. From there I told him what had happened up until the death of the runner in the pile of trash.

“Around this time three knights had arrived. Blunt Spade, the pony leading, told me that they had followed the sounds of gunfire. We found the security ponies the same way. The rest of that fight, well, you can read about all the ammunition expenditures and the specifics of who exactly made that building collapse, or that other one…” I said to him, as he sat there looking me in the eyes. He always looked you in the eyes.

“After firing those missiles, and leaving a lotta brass on the ground, we were breaking them. Any who weren’t running for the hills or blending in with the other natives were out of their skulls. The rest of our Knights and Paladins had filtered into the city square in roving packs, dealing with resistance. I attached myself to one of the few security groups that were still fighting. There were five of them. We were holed up in a leather shop. The security pony, Blunt Spade, and I decided to do what this mission had meant to do. We asked command what our orders were now that the resistance had been neutralized.” I said to him. He was listening intently, even as he started stroking my withers lazily.

“Good stuff, so what happened next?” he said before yawning and stretching out his forelegs.

“We made our way to the building. The run over there was tense, but other than a few pot shots we were left alone. The building and the surrounding area was empty; whoever had been there, they were turning sand. This freaked me out, if it was us we would have set the place on fire and smashed everything to pieces. It wasn’t just me, all of us approached it cautiously. I stayed to the side, was ordered to guard the flanks. I was far enough Reflex, I was standing at one of the crossroads…” I let my eyes draw down to the washed but tarnished sheets we were lying on.

“I felt it from the bed. You don’t have to say it,” Reflex said.

“They rigged it,” I said. I had to tell him, I had had to tell someone with my words. Or I thought I needed to. I don’t think I was wrong. It was like pushing an arrow out through your own body, it needed to be done, it didn’t need to be pleasant.

“We’re strong, and we won. As much as they hate it we’re building a better world, Ice.” He moved a hoof to my chin, and lifted my head to look at my eyes.

“This is a war for civilisation. We’re fighting for the genesis of one, and they’re fighting for the right to live their whole lives in the same twenty square kilometers they were born in. To live in a grubby hut, to give birth there, and to die there. I love them, the natives. They can make good food, some strange music and they bond as strongly as we do. After the end they’ll see that.”

“Right,” I said. With a wet noise, I cleared my throat. “Reflex, I’m heading back on a supply boat tonight.” I shifted myself forward, letting my chest rest on his. My eyes slipped closed, there were a couple tears between the lids. I needed him more than he needed me – he knew it- he didn’t abuse it, he was just Reflex. He draped his good foreleg on top of me.

“I was hoping that we would get that night to ourselves,” he said. I snorted air directly into his admittedly nice smelling chest.

“Yeah,” I said. He didn’t speak another word, he just moved that hoof to my mane. As I lay there I knew that I would never be around him like I had been before, we would never be what we had been before. We were older now. We had killed. We had moved on. The buck stroking my mane had become a force to reckoned with, a lucky decade from taking command of this place. He had made himself into someone. He believed in ideas, he told others about them like they were truths.

I couldn’t fall for ideas, I could only fall for ponies. I had only fallen for him.

I didn’t know that then.

In that moment though, I just cracked a smile.

You don’t have to know anything to smile.

I have a pet theory about that…

End Of Chapter Four: Ultra-Violence, And Its Discontents

Ballistics, Assiduity And Decay (V)

We stood outside the hospital, not just Wind and I; a large portion of the patients and staff. The winds were bitter, but the tidings had been sweet. Head Wind and I stood in silence. It was companionable, and it was nice to have someone next to me at times like this. His presence was one that lent a bitter-sweet tinge.

Three days had passed since that moment of shock and awe. Our war, our chance for greatness, our chance for an unmarked grave had passed on like so many of us. That bomb had been the tip of a great spear. Before the next revolution of my well worn circle of thought, Head Wind spoke to me.

“So, after we get to that rail depot, where ya goin’?” He had a benighted shade to his voice. His face showed curiosity though, on the patches not obscured by his winter bardings’ hood.

“I believe I’ll spend the night in Nightinham, and take a train to Maidenpool the following morning. My siblings shouldn’t bear the burdens without me.” I said, staring at the unpaved road that our transport would arrive along, and depart from.

My bags were on my back, straps that had a tendency to dig into my coat were held at bay by my own winter barding. I turned my head to look at Wind. Our eyes met; his held concern.

“Where will you be marching off to?” I asked. We had both obtained honourable discharges from the service. At this point, we would be worth more to the empire as civilians. That was the idea, in any case.

“I reckon that I’ll head on to the Imperial City, look for a job there, blow through mosta my back pay, even I know that all those bits will be a lotta pints.” His tail waved lightly behind him, and his right forehoof was scraping the snow covered earth beneath him as he spoke.

We continued to speak, the ice between us having been cracked for that moment; none of it of consequence, all of it nourishing. To an outside observer I must have seemed the reticent one, my expressions and words cast an ashy pallor. But, before we knew it, the vehicle arrived. The vehicle was a large one. It reflected the light of the sun, its aluminium exterior having been completed before the war commenced. During the war, aluminum wasn’t squandered. Even now, the light it reflected was less than pure. Our skies were covered in an elemental imitation of a blackout tarp. The two of us stepped inside the vehicle. By some unstated agreement, our hooves carried us to the rear of the vehicle. As we passed by the fore section I heard the operator mention another being right on his dock. I imagined that this machine could convey two dozen. Then again, there were many fold that number waiting to be led back. And many others would heal in the coming months, or be transferred to a true hospital. I tried not to estimate the number that would perish of wounds that had transpired in a war nearly over, ready to be forgotten by those that had survived.

The upholstery covering my seat and Wind’s had seen better days- then again, what hadn’t? I thought as the machine made a slow circle. My body seeped into the cushions regardless, even as Wind retained a paucity of tenseness. I felt the acceleration as the thing achieved cruising speed. It was going the way it had come, only carrying people it would soon see off. I let out a sigh. The journey would be long, and I was feeling less than vigorous.

When I awoke, it was dark outside, but as I determined with a glance to my right, Head Wind was still awake. He was gazing languidly at the landscape passing by. I looked at my right hoof. His was covering mine. That brought a smile to my face, even as the interior of the vehicle was obscured by the underlit cabin. Most if not all others were asleep in their seats. We were alone in a place filled with dozens.

“Wind, have you slept?” I whispered to him after shifting my head and body so that the distance between us would be lessened.

“No, I reckoned that you’d be awake at some point,” He said simply before his head turned towards mine. “I wanted to talk. And lookin’ around, I see we’re pretty much alone.”

“What do you want our conversation to be centered upon?” His body turned to face mine, barrel and all. I placed a hoof on top of his. My hoof made minute circles on his fetlock.

“I don’t really know, but I haven’t really talked to you in days.” I hadn’t given, truly given him the time of day, in well, days. Whatever name you assign that feeling of replete numbness, it had passed through my hastily erected barriers. I could cast it out for moments, but when I was alone or around him it returned. For this moment, under the roof of a moving transport, connected physically, it relented, yet the spectre of it remained. My lips pursed at his words.

“Alright, question time. Have you kissed a stallion before me?” The idea of conversation in this vein, in this place, was exciting regardless.

“No, I’ve ‘kissed’ stallions before you, but yours had the most dramatic backdrop,” his voice was lowered. Still, it held that deep baritone that was very much his.

“And many mares, I presume?”

“I’ve got the pictures to prove it… somewhere.” He delivered his words with my laugh bisecting them. “My turn, what are you planning on doing after you get the arrangements arranged?” His question arrested my breathing for a brief moment.

“To be completely candid, I haven’t thought about what I’ll do after.” He didn’t laugh at this; he moved his left hoof from between mine, before laying it onto my shoulder. “I imagine I’ll move onward with my studies, and after that device was detonated, I imagine obtaining my doctorate in physics is an intelligent move. Perhaps, I’ll join the faculty at the University of Crystalia. After that? I-I’ve had aspirations of joining the Royal Academy for ages…” my voice had broken as I confessed to him my failings and my dreams were laid bare. He projected this aura of security, I thought, his personal magic. Everyone had one. It was impossible to determine experimentally, and impossible to quantify. It had been left to quack physicians of the physical and metaphysical variety, but in that moment, I knew what my thesis would be. ‘Eureka’, a pegasus might have exclaimed, millennia ago.

“You’re probably gonna head to the city O’ crystal? Doesn’t surprise me one bit. Probably gonna help the ponies with big skulls build a bigger bomb.” His tone was wistful, yet there was an edge of hope to it. The imperial city he was heading to was very much the city of crystal. One term encompassed the surrounding nebula of urban development and industry, and the other implied the city that Sombra had built.

“Nothing has, as of this moment, been determined. Head Wind, where exactly does your interest come from?” I tried not to let my voice chill, but the implications contained within his words were unpleasant. I have never dealt with stains on character well.

“Perm, you know damn well, where my ‘interests lie’. All I want to know is that you’ll consider heading out with me for a pint sometime, us vets should stick together…”

He didn’t sound angry.

“If I move to the city, we should get in touch, if only because a pint sounds nice right about now. The company, on the other hoof...” He chuckled, it was a misdirection.

“Right, because you have room to talk, mister sense-itive and brooding, like a teenage filly, or that blue mare in the story.”

“When I’m talking to the rough and tumble stallion that wants to rut me and play psychotherapist.”

He gave me a focused look before clapping me on the shoulder and laughing.

“How exactly did we become friends again?”

“We were in close proximity, by chance, while we were simultaneously looking for some manner of stimulation,” I finished with a derisive snort. His jest had a definite, though hard to define, cunning to it; However, he never expected me to answer his rhetorical questions.

There was no division between the rear seats. Just a bench that was partitioned by the riders themselves. Knowing this, it wasn’t unexpected that he would let his bulky barrel and thick skull rest against my own. He yawned, a deep husky yawn, his muscles unwound. The mutual comfort reminded me of Trace and I; the chill that traveled down my spine was not unrelated.

“See ya when we pull into the station, or when sun wakes me up.” The oafish pony that I had befriended through convenience, at the beginning, fell asleep against me. I fell asleep again quickly. The last images to pass through my eyes were that of the northern steppe, viewed through chilled glass.

The night had been a cold one, despite it being spring, so the moment of transition from that air and the air inside the shop was of stark contrast. As my eyes took in the sights, vials, books, and myriad other things, I had that feeling of recollection, of familiarity with unfamiliar things. It had a musty smell, of decaying leather and books that had lasted longer than their makers had ever intended. At the front of the store, relative to the entrance, a counter and a register of recent make sat among the other objects, like the universe had let time shift in one forgotten corner of itself.

I had busied myself by reading the cover of a tome by candle and horn light when a feminine voice made itself heard. My ears angled to triangulate. I then carefully placed the book on its shelf and walked towards the counter I had seen minutes ago.

“Hello there!” I heard the mare say just before I could see her.

“Greetings,” I answered simply as I gave the mare a critical look over. She wasn’t yet elderly, but she was mature. I surmised that she was around fifty five years of age, her coat a leafy green. With consideration, the beige mane put up in a bun was a comely contrast. As was the rest of her, comely.

“And the customer enters just as I was closing,” She said with a dour expression. “But, you seem like you are looking for something, and what manner of shopkeep would I be if I didn’t assist?”

“To be truthful, I entered solely so that I wouldn’t seem too eager to see my friend. If my presence forces your shop to stay open, I can’t, in good conscience, stay,” I said as I grabbed my coat from the rack at the front of the store.

“And, to be truthful, I can’t let a young stallion like yourself leave without finding something.” She trotted over to me, her speech was elegant. “Truly, few enough unicorns enter my establishment, and fewer still have any character to them. Most interesting of all is your interest in the arcane, how it fits into yourself. Come sit, tell me a little about yourself, and I’ll do the same.” Her eyes focused on me. Well, why not humour her. Her eyes had a matronly steel in them. The glint of light as she turned her sign around with a tendril of telekinesis also had a bearing in my acceptance. On some level, dealing with another unicorn was always a pleasure.

“Is there a place that we may sit? You have, indeed, intrigued me,” My words issued from a muzzle that had broken into a sly grin. I had learned long ago that the strangest of circumstances could breed the greatest of experiences, if you grant it the chance. That belief renews itself as consistently as the sun rising on the morrow, or caesium-133 transitioning between its ground states.

“I have an office, for all the drearier parts of operating this place.” With that, she gestured with a hoof, and I followed.

The office in the back had a number of older leather backed chairs. I sat at one. By any standard, they were nicer than bar stools. She remained standing.

“Tea? would you partake if it was offered?” She asked simply before glancing over at a stove that had a kettle sitting on it. This place was heated by that stove, which gave credence to the old age of the shop.

“Seeing as this question is far from theoretical, yes, yes I would,” My words flowed softly. Her expression was pleased.

“That’s grand. Now, would you be a dear and fetch me a bag? They’re in that cabinet to your right.” I did as she asked from the chair, it only requiring a few telekinetic actions. The deep blue of the magic manifested and took hold around the box of tea bags, from there it moved swiftly through the air over to her. “Now, that is queer.” She stated simply, seemingly more for herself than to to me.

“What are you referring to?” I asked pointedly. I used mere telekinesis, the universal spell of our race. Her visage turned pensive, before turning to face mine.

“You have never spent much time around unicorns have you, Mr…?” She stood beside the stove, with the kettle just now beginning to emit steam.

“Permittivity, and yes, I hail from Maidenpool. It isn’t exactly known for its unicorn population.” I explained quickly, hoping for an explanation for her earlier exclamation. The kettle had begun screaming. She looked at it before pulling it from the stove, it floated in her green magic.

“To put it simply, nearly all unicorns have a magic that manifests in the colour of their coat. I have never in all of my years come across someone anomalous in this regard. And I presume you have never known the oddity in this?”

“You would be correct.” I said simply, her face became bemused.

“Well, in that case I must ask what your speciality is? Your talent, in other words.”

“I’ve studied physics and have learned a great deal about electrical engineering; those were my scholastic clusters. I know a supplemental spell from the appendix of a book I once owned.” I could for example know if a circuit had current flowing through it.

“A highly rationalistic field, but not necessarily exclusive to the arcane arts. Let me think for a moment, your case is unusual…”The ongoing conversation was baffling. The idea of being skilled at magic, or talented, or even acting in the manner of a ‘proper’ unicorn was deeply odd. It was laughable to me. Incidentally, I had to suppress a chuckle. “Answer me this: have you ever utilized some spell or a burst of magic before, perhaps under duress?”

“If I had I would have said so, but your words are intriguing.

I’m expected to meet friends in a short while, so if it suits you, what are the characteristics of these odd unicorns?” As far as I was concerned this was most likely farce, or a commercial ploy.

“In broadest strokes, he or she exhibits an array of related spells. This isn’t to be confused with those few unicorns that are learned in a bevy of spells, nearly all that they come across…”

“For argument’s sake, if I am of this subset, should I not have a fair chance at learning an electro-magnetic spell?”

“Yes, though I am the farthest thing from an expert in that arcane area, and as far as I’ve read, the magical academy tends to avoid spells of that nature.”

“I apologize for my ignorance, but that has to be some manner of oversight: why would the magical academy not research and experiment on electro-magnetism?” I was ever so slightly flabbergasted, and she realized this. By this point the tea bags were hidden beneath the darkening water; my previous engagements were similarly obscured.

“Your words are exactly the reason why. ‘Research and experimentation’ and other tools of… industrial rationalism aren’t utilized there. You would not be accepted in there, short of displaying some extraordinary talent or having a high birth. In my humblest opinion, they’re the last of the true guilds, and they act as they have for the last thousand years. If they didn’t have a value in terms of arcane enchantments and ceremonial grandeur, they would have been disbanded years ago.” She had spoken the words ‘industrial’ and ‘ceremonial’ with equal distaste; it was dripping from the fringes of her mouth.

“They have a monopoly on magic, on the instruction on anything more impressive than a pub trick?” My mouth was askew at this point.

“With few exceptions, that is an effective summary.” She had removed the tea bags and the steaming cups of liquid were at rest between us. At this, I remembered that I was supposed to meet ponies in a place that was a generous distance away. I lifted the cup carefully before sipping at it.

“I thank you for your time, but I have a previous engagement.” I told her apologetically, before taking a large volume of tea into my mouth.

“Come again sometime. Perhaps you’ll make a breakthrough in the meantime. If nothing else, you are a pony entering this shop, and that very rarely harms.”

I said goodbye as I emptied the last of the tea down my throat, the sensation of warmth it created would be alien compared to the chill of the night time air.

I had learned about the pub from the native, even if the native had lived most of his life several miles away. That thought brought a twist to my mouth even as my fur began puff out from the cold, winter barding notwithstanding.

I walked with my head swiveling- even the outskirts of the imperial city were strange to me. They lacked the antiquated audacity of the crystal towers of the city proper, of which I had only ever seen pictures of. But still this place was centuries older than Maidenpool. Maidenpool, a town with an elevated train and a nitrogen fixation facility. It was nearly ten at night, and the streets were nearly dead, aside from a few adolescents doing as adolescents do, and constables employed in stopping them from doing such things. They carried clubs like they had when the cobblestones of the roads had been originally laid, and revolvers that had arrived by a train from a manufactory.

I swung open a set of reinforced wooden doors to find a pub that was lively, and abundantly warm by the work of body and hearth. I entered the place, and other than some of the nearby patrons, there was no recognition of my entrance. My eyes made a survey of the room- there being nothing of immediate, apparent danger- and didn’t see what they were trying to find. In any case, I endeavoured to ask the owner or some such individual for the whereabouts of-

“Took you long enough, at least you had the courtesy to be stabbed the first time.” Trace said from behind me, I let out a breath of air that I hadn’t been aware of holding. She didn’t sound displeased. I turned around just to have her wrap her forelegs around my shoulders her muzzle pleasantly close to mine.

“You should know that there hasn’t been a pony with courtesy in their name in twelve generations,” I told her in my low voice, reserved for secret whispers and messages of wit- this one was both. As soon as I saw her lips moving upward, I pushed forward and locked mine with hers. Elation overrode decorum, but any in the pub would understand; we had fought a war, we deserved this.

I could taste the slightly stale ale that she had drank, not that I could complain. We must of remained like that for at least half a minute. Eventually, I pulled back.

There was a slight turn in her body, I mirrored it as she pointed herself in the direction of one of the tables. I moved to walk with my barrel resting against hers, and I felt her press back. The simplest, most modest display, yet it carried all that we needed to know.

I followed her to a table, I moved to sit down, she didn’t.

“I’m going to get more of that ale,” She said to me.

“Good idea, the taste I got was in no way enough,” I responded. Her muzzle betrayed confusion for a moment, and when it evaporated, a soft frown took its place. I let my eyes drift from place to place in the expansive room. I was going to live in the

nearby vicinity, I thought abstractly. Though the place was lit up with electric bulbs, the light travelled through a haze of smoke. Tobacco and other such things were burned in here, and yet more had gone up in smoke. All the ponies here seemed to be earth ponies, though the differences between them and the crystal ponies were a subject for academic conjecture.

A felt an impact on my shoulder, Trace had struck me.

“Your eyes going all glassy is new; I simply won’t have it,” She told me with vigour. It brought a contented smile to my face.

“Trace, I promise not to let my mind slip into a torpid state,” I raised a hoof into the air.

“You better,” She said cordially, a flash of worry in her eyes. It was a mere flash, but I knew what she was thinking.

“So, how were the final days on the front?” I asked before imbibing the ale set in front of me. It wasn’t defensible.

“They were quiet. To be completely candid, we nearly promoted Permafrost; she would have been the first humour specialist in the service.”

“And the bomb?” I asked quietly. She leaned over the table, to the point that I could smell the perfume she had sprayed on herself.

“I didn’t see the flash, thankfully, but I saw the cloud grow and blow away,” She looked down. “We listened in on one of their comms channels. They sent pegasi in to clear the cloud…” My mind reeled, from what I had read- “The details are sparse, but from what we heard that night. It isn’t good Perm.” She looked up to see my eyes unfocused. “Perm?”

“Yes.” I snapped to attention, pointing my eyes on her face, her beautiful face.

“Where were you when the bomb... did what it was supposed to?”

“I saw the flash.” I told her simply. We lapsed into a wordless reverie, broken only by sips from our cups. On impulse I got out of the the chair and filled up the containers.

When I returned she just looked at me. I forced my muscles to shape a smile. I believe she saw through it, but all the same, she appreciated the thought.

“Perm, has it really been less than a season?” Her expression remained pursed, lips forced together, shoulders taught.

“Less than two months.”

“Perm, when they found you, we thought you were going to die. All of that blood flowing between the boards. That Celestian, I still don’t know how he was cooked. It was like he had been struck by lightning. The examiner said that it wasn’t the stab wound that killed them.” Her voice lowered. She whispered something: I asked for her to repeat. Somehow, I knew what she said. Somehow, I knew that I had lied to the unicorn mare.

“What can make a pony’s heart stop?” I sunk into the chair, uttering a low moan as I did. No-one said a thing.

“Current.”

She looked at me, before extending a hoof to put atop one that I had left on the table. “Everyone but me said it was lightning in a jar, even if we couldn’t find one.” Her eyes locked onto mine, they were steady, even as my hoof shook under hers. Wasn’t it fair that I shook just as they had? All I needed now was a clean cut through the arteries of my neck.

We left that night, we went to her flat, we made love in the dark. She held me in the night. I held her. It was somehow different, like reality had ensued, like all that happened between us before had been some manner of dream. Neither of us had any problems entering the trenches again. Perhaps being close brought our minds back there.

The following morning, I left her flat later than she did. In my bags were all of the possessions I had cared to bring. My morning consisted of trips across this unfamiliar city, calls to administrators and unrelenting evaluation. Evaluation of my credentials, my voice, my posture. A reasoned and politically defensible response to my service and its all too visible effects.

It bore fruit. By mid afternoon, I had a half a dozen suitable lab spaces awaiting approval. The equipment necessary was in large part mundane, and I could obtain it with no substantial issues. It didn’t hurt that the largest technical academy here aside from the royal academy itself had a colleague of mine within its faculty. Tenured, as well.

That left me with a few hours between a fore-planned engagement and a dinner at Trace Line’s flat.

It wasn’t as if the conversation I had had with the shop mare had left my mind. In some way, it had lingered in my mind like a drop of adhesive on your fetlock. It either drove you mad, or quite literally, forced your hoof.

Perhaps it was the possibility that she would critique my plan of action, or truly stand with it. The thought charged my nerves. Still, the fact remained…

“You require my help? That is surprising. I’ll need to think over this matter. Prima facie. the notion is certainly exciting,” Lotus told me over a cup of black. In the shop window, I knew the sun was falling behind the carved stone building, and would soon fall behind the carved stone of the Earth. “Now tell me, what brought this to your mind?”

As she asked that, my face darkened. I had entered quietly, but she had asked me if I was going to buy something on this occasion. I responded that that wouldn’t exactly be the case. The frenetic explanation had been a strange counterpoint to her quiet breathing and silent brewing. She was excited.

“To be truthful, I was reminded when I was speaking with a soldier I had served with. I could give you further detail, and I will no doubt record what I remember for myriad reasons, but listen…” I lost my words as I watched this matronly unicorn mare.

“Laid bare, I used my magic to charge a blade, it was sunk into the barrel of an enemy combatant. It stopped their heart and singed them. I must have forgotten. Do you understand why I desire secrecy, early on, at least?”

“On some level, I do. More to the point, I would be there as a kind of guide, correct? Leading you through the magics you are likely to have substantive control over.” She had a conspiratorial character to her. This was to be desired, as is the desire of those of in their middle age, and beyond, to make a greater mark on the world. She also had a knowledge base that I lacked, and a repository of books of which I could use.

“Yes, I imagine this could end poorly if I attempted it without some manner of guidelines.” I stated plainly.

“I once read of a mare that immolated herself trying to light a fire. She had a flint and metal striker cutie mark. I don’t want that to be your fate.” Somber with a glint of resolve; that was her disposition.

I let her sip at her tea, her chlorophyll tinted magic manipulating the cup deftly. I learned later on that she was a vigorous gardener. Meanwhile, I had pulled a lightbulb from my bag, and lifted it above her head. In short order, my muzzle was clenched, and she looked at me quizzically. The expression intensified.

The filament was alight, and the light fixture in the room was emitting more light than it had before.

There was work to be done, but the spark was there. Purpose was fuel, as it always is.

As the more material preparations came together, I knew I needed to make a proposition, and if not that, then an apology.

I rode a streetcar full of afternoon commuters. It led away from the older commercial districts toward the newer areas. Most of my fellow passengers were reasonably well dressed. There was little conversation in the car. The sounds of city life were obscured by the whirring of the electric engine. I knew that I would leaving at an early stop. I stood at the front of an exit, my body leaned against a pole. Something about an open air streetcar was spectacular, even as it had become mundane to all others. Whizzing by at kilometers per hour along with the feeling of the artificial wind was exciting. It was much better than riding a closed train with only fleeting visions of the interior plains.

And yet, it ended quickly, I stepped off into a part of the city that was past its prime, if it had ever had one. Tenements with clotheslines strung between them were packed together as if they were huddling together for warmth. The buildings were sparse of windows and seemingly crowded with families and individuals. I made my way to a message-laden concrete bench. The letter, smudged and folded, told me that I was in the right part of the city. It wasn’t as if there was a paucity of poverty in Maidenpool, just that poverty wasn’t concentrated. The well-off were neighbors to the not so well-off. The butcher lived beside the lawyer and the lawyer beside the manufactory laborer.

It disturbed me somewhat.

The building I was looking for was off of the main avenue. Grime and refuse coated the back alleys, and small foals played amongst the waste. I knew that it wasn’t healthy, and I knew that the foals were smaller than they should have been, coarser than they should have been. Dirty faces and scowled muzzles greeted me at every corner. I wasn’t alone in making my way in this direction, but I felt alien among them.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when I found the named building.

Destination Heights was the name of the housing unit. Someone had painted the sign a deep black. I had a hard time making the name out; the letters were effectively gone, only a light outline was left. I counted on the number of outlines matching the given number of letters more than the shapes themselves.

There was no greeter; only a small office with a mail slit in the door. Water damage from the last decade left stains and mold lingering in the corners of the ceiling. I wondered if the water closets functioned- musky scents mingled with that of worn clothing and less than kempt bodies. The journey to the the third floor was a rapid affair, with an unshakable suspicion that I was being watched. It was too similar to the trenches, and it was without the benefit of knowing what the watchers wanted; there had never been ambiguity with Celestians.

At last, I made it to room three ought nine. I knocked twice with a forehoof.

I heard a groan from the inside of the room. Backing away from the door, I realized that my excitable state came from the knowledge of this meeting more than from any other thing. There was an impulse to trot down the hall the way I came, nerves assuaged.

When the door began to open the impulse evaporated. A large head poked its way out, a metal chain restraining the door’s full range of motion. He got a single look at me before letting out a laugh.

“You look like shit! And I’m the one who’s been livin’ in it.” He said to me before closing the door and releasing the chain. It slid open, and he ushered me in. Before I had drew breath inside the place, he had encased me in an embrace. I softened as he did this. I drew back a step after that; he looked almost abashed.

“That was surprisingly affectionate,” I said simply before walking over to a chair and sitting my barding and bag beside it.

“If you didn’t look like you always needed it, then maybe I’d be a little more restrained.” He replied simply. It mattered little that I was in the presence of a stallion that lived in this place, among these people, I knew that the price of better dwellings weren’t outside the means of a service member.

“Then thank you,” I said simply. I smiled at him and he smiled back. He motioned me to a couch that had seen better… decades?

“Perm, why are ya here?”

“I have a proposition for you.” I said simply as I sat back in the chair.

“You could’ve just said that. I’ll get the rubbers and the…” He said with a laugh.

“Not of that nature.” My voice rang with a tinge of annoyance. I looked him in the eyes before resting a hoof on his shoulder. “Not that I haven’t desired, or missed you.”

My eyes fell to his chest. He was quiet as I spoke. “Wind, I have a project in the works and it has the potential to be a breakthrough, or at least give me some manner of reputation with the Royal Society and their ilk. Would you help me with this? I trust few ponies…”

“That I believe.” He interjected with a jeer and a snort. My face might have flushed at that.

“It would involve a large amount of data collection and analysis. Nothing you couldn’t do, that and having some muscle around would be good.”

“Would it just be the two of us working alone on some experiment?” He asked with neutrality.

“There would be an older mare as well, though she would be there less frequently and in a more advisory role.” I told him frankly.

“Final question: Permittivity, what in the nine hells would we be experimenting on?”

I made my way back to my bed later in the day, and as night sat in, after a long period of reading and writing out experiment guides and laying out the apparati I would use, I fell into the sort of rest that comes between two challenging days.

The sun was brighter than it should be, I thought before any other thoughts struck me. I couldn’t remember waking up, and as I looked down at myself, I realized with a shudder: I hadn’t done that. I hadn’t thought to look at myself, to move the cords of muscle in my neck. I was in a body, yet it wasn’t mine. This alien body looked forward again, before stepping forward. They looked to their side and saw another standing a fair distance away, that other was standing beside a campsite of some kind. Strewn alongside the other pony was an assortment of equipment, of which I could recognize some. They had bedrolls lying about, some rifles, and what looked like mortar tubes and some zippered bags. The rest, I had little notion of: large metallic statues(?) had still more bags hanging off of them, even as they were painted in a camouflage that would suit the area they were in. In any case, I moved with the body of the pony I was inhabiting. I could feel a breeze moving under them- her. The genitals were definitely female, and with a little more thought I realized there was a slight dampness around the edges. I had awoken in this odd state just after she had urinated.

“You know that you’re supposed to do that in the armour right, especially on long patrols, Right?” I heard the other pony say in a decidedly male voice, I could make easier sense of that than I could the pony’s thick accent. The female continued her walk back to the site. She didn’t stop to speak to him at a reasonable distance. Instead, she walked parallel to his barrel before brushing her blonde tail against him before grinning at him softly.

“Sorry, Dish. I got up and didn’t want to get in the armour. We have water to spare. The two of us will be just fine.” Her voice wasn’t soft but it was feminine, and it had a slight tinge of throatiness. It was attractive, and to him being close to her, arousing. He looked at her apologetically, with a slight flush to his otherwise blue coat. He moved his hooves on the ground apologetically before looking back at the mare. I only noticed then that she was taller than this stallion. Whatever she was, she was larger than a fair number of males, and then by definition, nearly all females.

Assuming he was not simply a small male.

“I’ll remember next time. Alright, now we have to make our way to the next uplink station by... 0700?” The female said before moving back to the male, and giving him an understanding look and a nuzzle. A nuzzle which she had to bend her neck downward to give.

“You’re not wrong.” He said quickly as his frame softened at her touch. Out of his muzzle came a soft hum of satisfaction. In the next minute or so they broke their touch, and they proceeded to pack up the campsite whilst speaking of some manner of local gossip. As I understood it then, their main operation center was being renovated with new piping and new wiring, and the two were excited by it. New things were interesting to them, an exception to an unspoken rule. The two displayed signs of giddiness in the heat of the morning sun, and at the last bit of metallic refuse was picked up, they exchanged a wary look. The two then opened bags and pulled out a heavy fabric coat, or something that looked like one. The female put hers on, which in her case involved pushing her tail through a slit in the back, and at the last moment using a hoof to unzip a back panel. That gave me pause. The ultimate action action she took was the placement of a band around her left foreleg, it slipped around her forehoof unshorn as it was, before it was in the right place, with a single tap it tightened a part of its length.

Its make was solid. The band of steel had a few buttons, though the text was too small as to be seen from the distance. In the moment that followed, she tapped one of buttons with the side of her opposing foreleg. At that a solid steel set of ‘armour’ opened like the shell of a clam. All except the lowermost section of the legs and the helmet were opened.

The amount of machinery and miniaturization required for this was astounding.

With a practiced ease I- rather, the mare I was inhabiting in this dream- stepped into the suit. A single button press with the end of her snout on the inside of the helmet caused it to close around her. For a moment I feared that my horn would be pressed and crushed by the helmet as it swung up with her neck to a normal posture.

The inside of it was a dazzling display of analog dials and information presented to the mare in the form of a visual overlay. Her only sight came from a slit in the helmet. The thick glass, if it was glass, offered a view of the desert that was shielded from the glare of the sun.

She wriggled a little as the waste receptacle attached itself to her nether regions; judging from the alien sensations, a kind of suction hose had attached itself to her lower orifices.

Her head moved with little physical effort to watch as her companion finished adorning his similar armour. She stepped forward before depressing a bumper with the side of her head.

“So, have you made this route before?” She breathed into the helmet at a conversational volume, and after a moment of listening to the mare breathe I heard a crackling reply.

“N-no,” the stallion responded in a piteous manner. She levered her head once again.

“Then come on, I gotta tell you where all the mines are buried.” She said in a casual tone. “Well, full disclosure, no-one knows where all the mines are buried…”

Discovery, Discharges And Remains (VI)

Discovery, Discharges And Remains.

(VI)

The electric motor whirred faster and faster; the dial that displayed its revolutions per minute had a definite upward trend. I could see Head Wind sitting at the other end of the room, glancing at the dial every five seconds. His mouth moved quickly as he shifted the paper with a forehoof. I felt a numbness descend upon my form, emanating from my horn. I could feel myself weakening like I was overworking muscles yet there was only a feeling of fatigue and weakening in my body. My horn, in comparison, felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. I had been pouring energy into the wires of the electric motor’s circuit.

“I’m going to stop the flow,” I said to Head. As I cut back on the flow, the glow from my horn died little by little, and I could feel that weakness intensify. My rear legs buckled under my own weight. That was par for the course though, as Lotus told it. I was building up magical endurance. It seems a touch of telekinesis or a mote of light isn’t enough to build a reserve of magical energy. Knowing why I was falling to the floor, Head Wind sprinted over to me. I had just made it to the floor in loose pile of equine. I looked up at him, with an absurd effort I flipped myself over. The concrete was cool on my back. I let a slight smile warm my face, even as my extremities angled out and away from their upright positions.

“Permittivity, it’s fuckin’ scary watching you go limp like that,” Head said.

I said nothing to him, I merely let my frame rest.

“Whoever poured this concrete did an admirable job.”

My words earned a quizzical look.

“I can carry you if you want me to,” he said primly.

“If I wanted a strapping young buck to carry me home I would’ve went to the pub with you,” I said. My eyes met his, immediately thereafter the two of us burst out laughing.

“If you’re that much of a lightweight I kinda want to see it with my own eyes. I mean, I’m free tonight, like most nights.” His words had trailed off at the last few words.

“That sounds nice, I did enjoy that place you told me about in the hospital.”
I was feeling fresher by the moment. His body was loosening, his worries about my condition assuaged, he was looking more and more like the stallion I had met in the hospital.

“That place is pretty far away, and I’ve heard about this hole in the wall just a block or three from here,” he said as I pulled myself off of the ground. My legs were better than they had been, and my breathing was approaching normalcy.
I was getting better, the last time I had overexerted myself I had been lying on the floor for half an hour.

I stumbled forward; only by virtue of his position did I not strike the floor.

“Let’s get you into a chair,” he said with a chuckle as I used him as a crutch, a foreleg wrapped around his neck. It was nice feeling his coat against mine.

“Barstool?” I said to him as we walked towards the door. He just winked at me. I shook my head while chuckling.
We made our way out to the street, and I locked up the decrepit building. I felt better now, knowing that I had made progress. The streets were quiet, there were few ponies around this block. This block was mostly under-utilized property built back before the invention of the cable car. Tenement housing now. I thought for a moment, before watching Head Wind kick a rock ahead of him. He was an enigma, I thought before he turned his head to look at me. His eyes were open and inquisitive; I looked away instantly. My mind shot back to that time in the hospital, and on that bus. Leaving him at that station was one of the hardest things I had ever done…
I let my head drift, I could see him in my peripheral vision, he was still leading.
That was for the best.

---===*===---

“And this fucker, he had me on the ground, he kept stomping on my back. I kept yelling at him, telling him to surrender. The fucker never expected me standing up and knocking him on his ass.” A couple of ponies at the bar had started talking to Head Wind and I, so, Head was telling them a story.

“So, you snap his neck?”

“Break his leg?”

“Feed him his own shovel?”

“No,” he responded to the ponies around him. Two mares and a stallion had sat around us. After hearing that we fought these ponies had bought us a round. It was an implicit trade, war stories for beer. “I tackled him. If you hold a pony long enough they’ll give in,” he said with a sudden chill.

“You said you were in the hospital, how did that happen?” a short yellow mare said to us She must have been of age to serve, barely. The ones who won the lottery, I thought to myself. A frown appeared on my face as Head told them the truth.
“I was sitting in my trench, waiting for the Celestians to advance across no-mare’s land,” he leaned forward. “Then me and my mates, we heard howitzers firing. We had a few seconds to hit the deck. Then there was a loud fuckin’ crack and a hail of shrapnel. A second after that, another went off. And again. I could feel metal digging into my coat, and little spurts of blood oozing around the wounds. It kept going.” He paused and took a long drink, slamming his mug down on the countertop. “It ended eventually, but we were all cut up or dead. We gave up that forward trench and they took it. I got a big chunk of steel in my back, they had to drag me out and to the hospital.” He motioned in my direction. “I met this lug in that hospital.” He told them with pride in his voice, along with something else. I couldn’t quite place it in the second I had before the younger mare asked me about my wounds. I felt my lips turn down before I straightened them out. My momentary half sneer wasn’t recognized for what it was. I forced a smile.

“There is zero possibility that you missed the scarring on my muzzle.” I said to them. The mare chuckled at what she thought was a joke. “I received them at the end of a Celestian blade. To preempt the succeeding question: I have more than these scars.”
At that I dropped from the chair and placed a mote of light near my stab wound.

The bare patch of fur stood out. “That must have hurt!” One of the stallions said before calling the bar pony over. “Pick anything over there, I just got paid.” He seemed taken aback by my scars. I balked internally.

“That isn’t necessary.” I said to him simply.

“Yeah, I’ll go half and half with you, Cobble.” They exchanged a look before laughing good naturedly. This was their good act for the week, helping some soldier drown his pain. I stared at them, my eyes focused on their faces.

“Cinnamon rum,” I told the bartender. My eyes hadn’t shifted from their muzzles.

“Rocks?” The bar mare asked quizzically. My head turned left and right slowly.

From behind me I felt Head lay a hoof on my shoulder, he pulled away automatically upon feeling taut muscle. The mare pushed the finished drink to me. I took hold of it with a hoof, brought it to my mouth, tipped it back ever so much, and tasted a drop of it. I dropped off of the stool again. My eyes closed just before giving the four of them a come hither look. The three admirers glanced at each other, surprise written across their faces. Head looked at me gravely. In my mind, I realized why I had ordered this drink in particular.

“We’ll be back in just a moment.”

The three followed me to the door and beyond, making small talk all the while, whispering about what this pony had in mind. My ears registered the mare saying the words horn head just loudly enough.
The streets outside were gravel speckled dirt, though wider than those of the older districts. I cleared my throat.
“The night I received these wounds was a night like this, cloudless, nippy. With me was a stallion by the name of Wool. He is–was an honest stallion, he had a love for his home town. One time he described it to me. Only half a thousand ponies lived there. Most were there to fish the sea for cod, though sometimes the fishers would go further out. A hundred years before his time one of the ships happened to get caught in a storm. A single pony ended up over the deck.” I had gotten their attention. And without thinking my horn was glowing more brightly. “When the ponies made their way back to land they were in a foreign port, far from home. There was a celebration as they survived something many wouldn’t. Yet there was still a tinge of melancholy for that sailor who would never return, who never saw land again. So the captain in the strange port ordered a spiced ale. Or tried to. They had no ale, so he simply got a vessel full of rum, he took it outside.” I stopped for a moment, my breath hitched. My audience was boring holes into me. They were aware that my horn was doubling up on its glow. Whatever warmth the liquor had brought me, I still felt a draft moving through my core, chilling and throwing my stomach into knots.

“For the sailor who never saw home again, he poured the glass into the earth. A final drink for a lost one.” I gave a glance to glass, it was shaking in the magical grip.

I turned it over and the liquor fell onto snow.

“That was sweet,” the mare said after a few seconds of silence. The upended mug showed a hint of fracture. It was a faint noise in my ear.

“No, it was an attempt at reconciliation.” I said to them before dropping my voice.

“I knew that he loved cinnamon, and that he hated field rations. More than anything else he was caught between duty and disillusionment. Weeks ago, his family received a letter delivered by a polished officer informing of them of their son's’ sacrifice.”
The three were quiet for a moment before one of the stallions moved to embrace me. I backed away. Whatever temperament I had attained shattered. Just as the glass did. He backed away into the flank of his companions. These ponies held no comprehension, only unimaginative platitudes, sentiments gleaned osmotically from speakers and dogmas baked indelibly into their minds from birth!

“Are you alright there?” The mare asked. I felt a flush, I was roiling. Warm tears flowed down my cheeks. I gave a glance towards the lone streetlight casting a washed out yellow on this scene. My horn lit up for just a moment. The light flashed like pulsed and lit our faces, making the shadows cast by us starker-just before dying as the filament was immolated by the current passing through it.

I stood there as they balked, I forced the emotion out of my voice to croak a response. “Yes,” I said. In the now darker streets I realized that they couldn’t understand, that I couldn’t understand. What can be understood in a thousand ponies writhing in agony? A hospital wing so replete with festering wounds that the stench taints the entire building? One pony left to pick up the pieces when so many fell to pieces?

“Don’t honour me when there are multitudes more lost than I.”

I cast a mote of blue light and held it ahead of my muzzle. That was the only conclusion I could draw. I only wished understanding, and the chance that it might help them understand. Maybe if they understood, they could prevent the next war.

“Next war,” I said under my breath. My mote expanded and brightened.

I turned and walked inside. The warm air was uncomfortable, the glances from others more so. My horn had discontinued its glow; still, eyes seemed to glance at it more than the radio or the decor, even the barkeep. A rush of hot concern to match the ash laden air shot through me. Legs that had been steady wanted nothing more than to take leave. I ran my eyes throughout the place, looking for the one pony that mattered. After a redundant pass or three I went up to the bar and ordered a double of Imperial, poured over ice of course, to calm me. When she had finished pouring it, with the added touch of a hostile look, I flashed my horn to pick up the liquor. It found its way against my lips.

The radio behind the counter blared music rife with horns and an endless succession of drumbeats. I let the liquor enter my mouth as I let my eyes shut, I tried to let my mind ease, after a few seconds and a thorough swallow, I felt current being induced in the radio. I didn’t want to damage it. My mind’s eye pulled close to it, a simple metal piece wrapped in a dielectric material…
My face soured as I tried something. And just like that the radio turned to static, the antenna wasn’t tuned to the frequency that it had seconds before received. The bar pony turned to it and moved the dial. That solved the problem, the frequency was only slightly altered. The dialectic wrapped antenna had gotten me thinking. Inducing a current in a circuit, what was I doing? Adding energy, increasing the flow of electrical energy.

I was changing the universe, and the altering laws that I had spent so much learning.

The radio went back to static as I quit pouring magic into the air around the antenna. Antennas were covered in a layer of dielectric materials so as to change the permittivity around the antenna, to change the wavelength that would be received. When I focused on the space around the antenna I poured magic into the area, but I restrained myself from charging the brass inside. I let my drink drift towards the table. The strain was more telling than it was with telekinesis or current induction.

Before I gave more thought to the magic I heard a door opening in the back. With a flourish of magic I lifted the last of the liquid in a cradle of telekinesis letting it form into a sphere before throwing it into the recesses of my maw. It burned as I turned my head to watch Head walk inside. He looked at me, his lips were tight on his skull, before clambering onto the stool beside mine.

“You look thoughtful, and knowing you, that isn’t a good thing,” Head said.
“Do you ever wonder what you’ll be remembered for?” My voice was slightly slurred.

He looked me in the eyes, before chuckling for a moment.
“I imagine ponies will remember me as a damnable soldier, damnable drunk, and a solid lay,” he said to me. I let out a huff. He merely smiled at me.

---===*===---

“Perm, you’re coming home with me. That last shot hit you like a brick.”
And so he had my right foreleg over his shoulder. He was taking me with him. I didn’t argue. He felt nearly as warm as I did.

---===*===---

The door opened and we piled in. My eyes caught sight of his bed. I wanted a place to rest badly. It was as if I had ingested a great deal of poison. The truth was, I had only ingested an average amount of poison. I let my magic light up the room, just as he kicked the door behind us. He let go of my foreleg before locking up the door.

“Not the best neighborhood, if I recall,” I said.
“The rent is cheap,” he said before giving me a look of concern. “Perm, something is bothering you.” He stated unequivocally. I had slumped over on the bed, the feeling of the fabric under me was pleasant. It wasn’t as dirty as the sheets in the Maidenpool Inn.
My face warped at that thought. I said nothing as he ambled over to the bed. His bed. I remembered with a spark of cognition. He crawled up beside me before laying a hoof on my shoulder.

“Was it the bar ponies? I mean, I kinda wanted to bring the mare back here.”

I grunted.
“Head, is there any way we can change things, to make them all understand, to avert-”

“Perm, if we had any way to stop war, to show em’ what it’s like, well, we woulda stopped having them a long time ago.” Head said quickly, as if angry at the question posed. “Hell, half the ponies that started this war have fought in em’, so I reckon there ain’t a way to stop em’. It’d be like stoppin’ a damn glacier.”

“The purview of gods, not mares.” I shivered slightly. “I just don’t understand.” I let my tongue loose as his dark shape stayed where it was, the only sign that he was a living pony was the ever present warmth flowing from his hoof. “Why them? Why any of them? Why are we left to pick up the pieces, to bury the dead, to continue living?!” My voice crescendoed across the room and into his flickering ears, following the contours of my visage there was a line of warmth falling across my cheek. It chilled as it flowed.

“I have no fuckin’ clue about that last question, but this here,” he said as he pulled his barrel against mine, tail falling over my rear half. He glanced at me. “None of those ponies that died get any of this.” I rested my head against his neck, he in turned his eyes forward, eyes focusing on the blackened wall. “I know what this is about Perm, I’ve known it for a little while. You’re hurting. You’ve been hurting since the day you learned about your family. You were still you when left that bus, numb, but still you.”

My throat tightened, leaving him behind had been hard. That journey back to Maidenpool, difficult. When I arrived, it had been nothing but reminders of how this war had hurt the Empire, the mote of homefulness I might have felt withered as I viewed the collapsed buildings and shrapnel embedded in the streets, the blackout curtains hanging from most of the flat windows. No-one there truly believed it was over. I watched their eyes dart over me. The sullied great coat telegraphing where I had just came from. There were no thanks given, nor were there any ponies looking for a courageous tale from the front.

They had been on the front. My parents had been on the front, and were rather the worse for wear.

I had lost track of his words. The memories of that triumphant homecoming running through my mind like a like a reel of poorly spliced film, waiting to fall to pieces and ignite...

“Everything in life is a little bittersweet Perm, breathing, fucking, drinking, mourning. But, unless you wanna join them, buck up, live like you want to live!” He had yelled that last bit, the poison in his blood slurring those words. It fit him.
Live for the moment, and leave nothing behind! That was his modus operandi. It rang hollow. I had seen too many lives ended in a moment, leaving no more mark on the world than the blood seeping into it.

It had nearly happened to me. My head pulled itself out of the crook of this stallion I had fallen into, a stirring of magic in my horn illuminated my forehooves splayed before my eyes.

“I–we–almost died out there. We were fortunate and others weren’t, random chance alone prevented us from adding to that places’ stench. It doesn’t matter what they did in their lives. At this moment ,their bodies are decomposing. At best their bones might calcify, their remains might be excavated by some future ponies. The legacy of their forms nothing more than a curiosity, pony turned to stone, pony mummified.” My breath caught for a moment, as I realized the path of my thoughts. Head said nothing.
“Head Wind, Drying Wool, the stallion in whose name I performed a rite of libation, he will be remembered by his siblings and his friends. They will soon be much the same state as he, as we all will be physically. Their children may hear of him, but it will be a shadow of him left behind. Out of living memory, and only bones. I-”

“I know damn well what you’re gonna say, that you want to leave something behind. I’ve seen it in you, seen it since you got back from Maidenhead or wherever you went,” he said.

“I want be do something that will change the world, to do something worthy of mention millennia from now. It’s been done before. This magic is something never seen before. At the very least, it hasn’t been glimpsed by the instruments available to us. And you’ll-”

“I’ll be a fucking footnote. I don’t care. The future ponies, I’ll never meet, why should I worry about whether they’ll read my name. ‘He threw the switches and made sure that the great scientist Permittivity ate food.’ I don’t have any anger at those ponies, it just doesn’t affect me, if I’m dead then why worry? My problem is with you. You’re running yourself into the ground! You look worse now than when I first saw your wounded ass. Permittivity, you’re a smart stallion, smarter than any that I’ve ever met, but you’re blinding yourself. What’s the difference if some random pony, as different from you and I as we are from cave ponies, knows your name? Perm, everything crumbles given time. I poked around in a science magazine once, if I know this then you know this: even stars die.” I felt a dampness around my eyes. Steeling myself I felt his words slough off of my mind.

“I can’t just drown my troubles, I can’t believe that nothing matters. I can’t give up on my legacy.”

“You’re killing yourself! At least I know my liver has another couple decades left.”

“So what? Head Wind, what if I don’t want to live that long? What if I just want this all to end? Head Wind, what if the idea of leaving something behind is the only thing that keeps me from sparking a gas line with my magic?” My eyes bored into his, both of us had adjusted to the dark. He was breathing faster now, his exhalations and mine now took the places of our voices.
I had cleared the air, poisoned it. I had let my words slip out. Emotion boiling over. I hated that I could get like that, that something inside of me had forced itself out.
We’re creatures of memory, though sometimes we forget…

I shook in surprise as I felt that rough pair of lips make contact with my own, it soliciting a reaction just as well as that buried memory, though the reaction was a great deal more pleasant. The feeling of him in that moment was like a charged degaussing coil… it cleared those thoughts from my head. The following moments were an oasis.
I was weary, and only him and Trace could let me rest. Rest being a metaphor in this instance for physical intimacy.

The fabric continued to feel nice under me…

---===*===---

Time passed, as it always seems to.

Head Wind and I, we grew ever more comfortable around one another. Whatever our relationship was… it was pleasant. Trace Line, on the other hoof, had taken to doting on me whenever I was around her. She was the better at telling when something was troubling me. Which was often. This made me detest her company on some level. Head Wind had, our intoxicated dialogue aside, left well enough alone. Perhaps, it was that aspect of him that brought me more frequent moments of levity. But, that part of our reality, like most, are only explained by merely educated guesses, raw conjectures, and heuristic tricks, if we try to explain them at all. Even an inquisitive soul such as mine can only explain parts and pieces of how our lives work.

And that is at a cost. As it is with everything else.

---===*===---

The paper that would make me who I am today had just been accepted for publication by the Journal of New Physics. I stood beside the steel table that had been my desk for the intervening months. In the warehouse there was a chill to the air; I never started the furnace until after the post was read. Whatever malaise I had within myself had been shaken, I thought to myself. All the months of strain and cataloguing, all of the self-imposed exile, all of the acts I had let myself commit.

It was as if Steel had been grafted into my bones. I would be a member of the Royal Society, I would assume a position as someone of unique talents and demonstrated intelligence. I looked up from the letter, the greatcoat draped across my back felt like a sheet of paper. In my moment of private triumph, my body called to me. I dashed over to the water closet. It was in the far rear of the place.

If I had been paying attention I would have heard the sound of a side door being pushed open…

When I exited the restroom, everything was as quiet as it had been before. As I returned to my eratz desk I heard the characteristic groans of the worn door as it gave way to Head Wind’s force. I looked up from the letter, and aimed a sly grin at my assistant.

“Two months,” I said to him as he stepped in from the howling winds.
He shifted his eyes from me to a place slightly behind me. “Perm, who’s that?” Head Wind barked, his eyes widening in fear as he judged the threat of the unknown pony. I turned to face the intruder. It was a she, and I knew exactly who she was.
“Two months to what?” Trace asked with a curious note to her voice.
“My paper’s publication date, New Physics,” I said to her excitedly.

She had heard my ramblings about that journal, among others, and she knew what it meant to me, what it could mean for me. Her eyes opened and the edges of an easy smile crossed her muzzle.

“So, you know her? Did you let her in?” Head Wind said to me as he trotted over to my side. His posture was protective, as always. I knew at that moment that this was going to end poorly. Yet, the feeling of having the only ponies I felt any attachment to together felt magnificent.

Before I could respond in any tactful way I saw Trace’s throat clear. At this moment time slowed to a crawl.
“Yes he knows me, I’m his marefriend? And you are?” She said to him, her wing muscles flexing underneath her fur and feathers.
I turned to face him. Trace angrily huffed in response. Head’s visage twisted in suppressed fury, his body was pulsing as his eyes bored into mine. He could see the truth in them. It had never really been hidden. That might have hurt him the most.

He looked between my eyes and hers, the moment passing at glacial speed.

“Permittivity,” he said finally. “How could you?” He tittered and thrust his chest out. “I don’t give two flying fucks about others, because I’ve been dead inside since my fucking parents died.” He let his voice spill out of his chest, the warm baritone that I had fallen asleep listening to turned to ice in my ears. “So, I’m going to fuck with everyone, because nothing matters to me other than getting into some fucking unicorn circle jerk club!” He said to me, before striking me in the muzzle. The impact sent me to the concrete. When I recovered my wits, I watched him slam the door shut with his rears. He had used enough force to shake instruments on the far side of the room.

As I pulled myself up to my hooves, I felt a trickle of blood flowing out of my right nostril. When I lifted a hoof to staunch the bleeding, I made out the faint sound of tears from behind my desk.

“Trace,” I said softly, penitently, mootly. The pit of my stomach had turned to rock. Perhaps, I was still dazed, I walked towards the desk with unsure steps. My lips quivered as my mind tried to think a way out of this, to seal the cracks, to maintain the bulkheads to prevent the whole enterprise from sinking. But, a captai-

“Is it true?” She said simply from behind the desk her voice monotone.

“What are you referring to, love?” I said as I stopped at the right side of the desk, my voice carrying an affected lilt. The sensation of stone had travelled into my throat, even as my tear ducts dilated in anticipation.

“Being coy was never your strong suit, Permittivity,” she said tonelessly. “So, what is he to you? I know how you work, ‘it doesn’t count as a lie if they never know to ask the right question’.”

I took a deep breath before giving her the truth. I stood there bog still as my diaphragm pushed outward. An involuntary shiver worked itself through my flesh, the feeling of twitching muscle under deep pockets of scar tissue, making every hurt I had incurred in my life known again.

“I met him in the hospital, he was friendly when most others were dying or fatigued nearly to that point. We made friends. He was there when I received the news.
He comforted me. Trace, I never realized what was happening until we had fallen into each other.”

“Just a lapse in judgement that happened once-,” she interjected in between one of my breaths.

“No, he was similiar to me in ways that you can’t be. You made it out of the killing fields unscathed, he nearly died as did I. He suppresses something he gained there. Or lost there. Head Wind drinks beyond moderation, and I wanted to keep an eye on him, he reciprocated. So, I offered him an outlet. Companionship is grand, you should know this well.”

The pleading had bled out of my voice, a numb passivity had taken its place. The ship had sunk. I could feel the cold water well enough.

“Permittivity,” One word. “I can’t stand you right now, this is… I don’t even know what this is... cheating on me with a stallion? Him?” She had restored herself, tempered herself with the anger of betrayal.

“He’s a good stallion. Full of life. You would like him in different circumstances.”

“In different circumstances, what do you mean by that? If you had told him that you had a marefriend, then maybe he would have backed off? Permittivity, you’re making me a hate a pony that didn’t do anything wrong all because I can’t stand hating you! You can’t even make it easy for me to hate that buck.” She had gotten to her hooves and was glaring at me. My head had fallen forward. I couldn’t look this mare in the eyes, the mare that had never done me wrong. Head Wind hadn’t deserved this, and neither did she.

“Trace, I love both of you. I don’t know why I did what I did. I–”

“That’s not how things work Perm, when you open your heart to somepony you expect you’ll have all of them. You know this, or you wouldn’t have hidden this from me, or him. Permittivity, you need help… Help that I can’t give you. Just... get things together and I might–” She paused before looking away. “I don’t know what I want, I don’t know if I can trust you again. I mean, I never even knew you were into stallions, you never even talk about things anymore. All you talk to me about is the damn news, and this work of yours. How do I even know it isn’t all made up?” She had become angry again. If I modeled her anger it would be in the form of a sinusoidal wave.

My head turned to face hers. A path of electrical potential was carved out of the natural spacetime with my magic, in a second a point in the middle of the room was home to an electrical discharge powerful enough to turn air in which the electrons traveled turn to ozone and plasma. There was a crack as displaced atmosphere filled the gap created by the ionized gases.

The flash of light burned both of our retinas. I didn’t lie without cause.

“Trace Line, I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t,-” I had to yell to get her to hear through her ringing ears.

She turned her head back towards me one last time. The fear in her eyes was palpable.
I had caused that. I had caused the people I loved pain and fear.

As she sprinted away, the unfamiliar smell of ozone burning her muzzle, tears flowing once more…

As I imagined Head Wind in his flat numbing himself with poison, feeling used and betrayed by me…

I knew what I had to do, I could fix the root cause.

---===*===---

Everything was in place.

I had written many things: a full write up of my journal with explanatory notes, letters to Head and Trace, and a will.
I walked into the kitchen of my flat. The oven that Trace and I had used to cook many meals on. That would finish my time here. This life had been useful, I had discovered what it felt like to love and to be loved. To serve a grand cause, and to see that grand causes destroy more than they create. I had seen the fate of the world. It was all too similar to mine, and my parents. My siblings had been anything but familial, but being the youngest child whilst being the only unicorn had made me less than favourable to them.

That funeral had been worse than anything I’d ever experienced. Pain of the physical variety, it has a purpose. Stop doing that! Your body says to itself.

Pain of the emotional kind. Why does that exist? It’s a break in the mind itself, you cannot prevent yourself from losing loved ones, so why does it exist? It serves no purpose, or even less than the entire living business. Why?
Ponies fill in the gaps with things: Family, friendship, personal advancement, hedonism and some perverted spirituality. I had these things. They seemed to push the darker thoughts away. Even if I wanted to pull the trigger, even if at times I wanted nothing more than an end to this existence, I could always pull myself from the edge of the abyss with a thought towards the feelings of others. Suicide as a selfish act, that’s what we’re taught to believe. I don’t think that it’s wrong. As a prevention mechanism, it does have an assumption built in. The idea that others will be hurt by your end.

By this point though, I had lost those connections. I had already caused pain in those that I loved. They would be better off without me dragging them down. Permittivity had been a damaged stallion before the war, someone who had thought frequently about the purpose of existence, someone who had pored over all those explanations and found them lacking in the end. I had tried to put a goal in my mind for a while, write this, learn this, graduate from an institute of higher learning. Find out what your name means. I had done all that had been put in my path. I had killed another pony in the defense of my nation-state. I had nearly found peace and a hero's death at the hooves of a celestian blade.

None of it provided a solution, no purpose presented itself with gravity enough to bind me to this place. Nothing within reach was ever worth the cost. No momentary break in the daily degradations could end the pattern. And so, when the die was cast, when I had achieved everything achievable, or just about, I had sabotaged the only relationships I had left. By embracing those that I cared about I had destroyed those embraces. In hindsight it was clear, as it typically is. As I removed the pilot light from the oven, I understood the world clearly.

We’re here because of random chance. We live in a complex universe devoid of inherent meaning. Any accomplishment will in time fade away as civilization turns itself to ash, as it always does. There is no proof of an afterlife, and religion is an unfalsifiable construct… If the only way to derive meaning in life is pleasure, then when that becomes impossible. Then you simply turn on the gas.

You walk back into your living room knowing that a molecule very similar to the paired oxygen you breath is slowly filling the room, slowing binding itself to your lung tissue and ending the slow march of decay that you’ve been caught in since before you were birthed…

It all followed as a matter of course.

The Couch was comfortable as always.

Especially as my mind began to fog.

That was to be expected.

Hypoxia:

My eyelids drooped and my lungs began to fill and empty with rapidity, yet all was calm, I had waited for this.

I had just began to fall into the blackness when a sudden knocking on my door broke the spell for a moment, I coughed for a moment. My oxygen starved brain firing at near random.

That must be Trace or Head! They had forgiven me perhaps. Maybe this had all been a dream these last months. A loose grin mustered itself on my visage. Maybe!

My head was flowing, each thought more of a triumph to complete.

But, by some miracle I made it to the door, where the knocking had increased in volume. It was nearing the intensity of my heart beats, which was quite fast. Not that surprising, I thought to myself as I opened the door.

As my magic made contact with the door it seemed to weaken, my vision was blackening, and the lungs that had carried me since my birth were straining in vain to deliver oxygen to my beligered body.

For whatever reason I wanted to answer that door. From some part of me I summoned the will to overglow my horn to compensate for my weakened magic. I guess that my under-oxygenated brain wanted to see who was knocking.

Curiosity saved me. Living was pain, but not knowing was a death I could never bear.

The door opened in a rush, I poked my head out of the room and into the clear air. It was ambrosia. My lungs continued frenetically as I spied the pony that had knocked. They were a crystal unicorn, an older stallion bespectacled and wearing a tweed coat. I had enough time to register this before my vision blackened completely, the carbon monoxide rendering me unconscious.

Everything was in place, except I.

---===*===---

The first event that registered other than waking was a deep throbbing in my skull. This was a hangover like no other. It being the consequence of an alcoholic binge was seemingly confirmed by the stinking pool of bile that my head was resting upon. With a jerk I pulled my head from the remains of my last meal.

What would have been my last meal, I realized with a start. I was supposed to be dead. The fuzzy memory of an open door and a unicorn stallion was recalled. Who were they?

A sudden bump sent my body upwards a few centimeters. My head darted about, I was riding in a motor carriage. In the seats in front of me sat that same unicorn and an earth pony driver. Through the windows I could see the spires and obsidian of the crystal city.

“Who are you?” I forced out of fatigued respiratory system, which made that same system initiate a coughing fit. My form spoke of the poison that it had been replete with.

“I’m head of the archaeology wing of the Royal Society,” He said with a note of nervous pride.

“Why am I in a motor car at this moment? Why did you arrive at my domicile?” I croaked out.

“We have an understanding with the editorial board of New Physics. Your paper was quite interesting Permittivity, someone of the highest authority wanted to speak to you. So, I merely decided to ask if you wanted to see said person. In person is more discreet than a vulnerable telephone connection. Clearly it was a good choice,” he said with a laugh. “Truly, borrowing that oxygen mask from the nearest fire marshal will be interesting to explain, now won’t it?” On the floorboard of the carriage was a tank of oxygen connected by a rubberized hose to a mask. He had saved my life. Concentrated oxygen was the only treatment for carbon monoxide poisoning. In conjunction with time.

“What aspect of it was interesting? Any unicorn with rudimentary apparati and a cursory knowledge of physics could have written that paper.” I said. My eyes locked onto a mare walking flank to flank with a stallion, they were of middle age and there was a blissful expression plastered on their muzzles. They seemed to take no heed of the cold.

“You’re half right. All will be explained when we arrive,” he told me before turning his head to watch the road ahead.
In the time that I had awoken my breathing had become steadier. And now I had a burning question to occupy my mind. Distraction was good. I felt stronger as my form purged the poison.

---===*===---

This is a bewildering experience, I thought as we ascended the crown jewel of the crystal city. In the elevator beside me was an Imperial Guardspony and Doctor Fetters. The good doctor was wearing a long coat with a tweed jacket below, the guard was wearing a dress uniform. However, the rifle he carried was still quite potent. It was the same rifle I had carried not that long ago.
Doctor Fetters had gotten the two of us to the Guard ponies with haste. This was strange to me, what important pony would like to meet with anyone at this time of night?

The rush felt out of place in the subdued atmosphere of the cold months.

You’ll understand soon enough.

I shuddered as an alien thought entered my brain.

After an eternity the elevator door opened, light spilling into the dark corridor. Fetters trotted out and to the left, and immediately after I heard a heavy switch being thrown; the pathway was lit. He turned around before ushering us forward. This room had been retrofitted with the fluorescents. Their wiring was lining the corners between the ceiling and the wall. Curious I let my eyes close as I felt for the flowing energy. It indeed travelled those bundles. What? In the room immediately ahead something was pulsing with an energy that I had never felt before.

The closest thing it reminded me of was my little trick with the radio, bending the fabric of space-time… But as I felt it with the spell I had gotten my Mark using, it chilled me.

It was with curiosity and a new found apprehension that I stepped into the room.

The room was easily fifty meters in diameter. Hanging from long chains were sodium arc lamps. In the center was a mirror with a frame made of a black crystalline material. My eyes were drawn to it, the quiet in the room seemed to fit its grandeur.

“It pulls the light towards it, doesn’t it?” Fetters said in a hypnotic voice.

“Yes,” I said as I stepped towards out of some need.

“I’ll leave you two be,” Fetters said simply before taking a necklace off and kicking it towards me with a single mechanical movement.

This startled me, this whole roomed was ebbing with an energy that I didn’t need the slightest focus to sense. It was reminiscent of that cataclysmic explosion. Still, I heeded none of the warnings that my instincts gave me. I stopped only when I was a heads length away from the side of it. The frosted glass reflected back the image of a broken pony. My visage was gaunt, and deep valleys of scar tissue spoke of a pony that had been through enough. I had had enough, I thought to myself as a breath left me.

“Can I ever face them again? I just wanted to feel loved, and to feel something in return. This must be a dream, I must be dying in that flat, my starved mind creating some fantasy in its final moments.” My eyes returned to the pony that looked back. There were tears in his eyes, the icy blue orbs had heavy shadows beneath them.

I felt my forelegs lose strength, and in an effort to not meet the floor I pushed my left foreleg against the mirror. Every part of my body was numbed the moment contact was made. When I cried out in surprise the breath exiting my lungs froze before my eyes.

I know what you did just hours ago. I can feel death permeating your whole being. Soul voided, you were in the process of completing the transformation from a living being to a dead one.

“What in the–” I yelled before backing away from the mirror, a staccato heartbeat from galloping from whence I came.

I’m the person you were set to meet. Permittivity, that’s quite the name. Mine is much shorter but quite memorable in its own way. Sombra.

That voice echoing in my mind as if it was an empty valley… It had found what could hold me. Simple curiosity.

“How can that be, you’ve been dead for a millenia?” I asked in shock, somehow knowing that this mirror was the correct object to face whilst speaking.

I never died in the normal sense of the word. I placed my soul into this object before my corporeal form breathed its last. Cycles of slumber and wakefulness have proceeded that re-birth. However, this war, it strengthened me. And I strengthened the empire in kind. This is why I called for you using that peon. You have potential unimagined, you are not the speck of dust in cosmic sand that you think you are. Without hyperbole, I see myself in you. I was once a unicorn of great power, great enough to challenge the gods of this world. Enough to win.

“Until I came to this city I knew the same number of spells as I have hooves, you can’t tell me that I’m some font of magic–”

We cannot choose our parentage, or our homes. You would have under the attention of a mage learned many spells, yet they would have tempered you, blinded you from your true potential. I have peered over your work and examined your life in detail, a soldier, a scholar and a pony lacking the one thing he always desired.

Meaning.

I can give you one. One beyond words on a page, or gold or whatever lusts drive a pony’s loins. I can give you a life worth living. Unique beyond all measure, for there are worlds other than these. And I just happen to be the key.

His words were had been driven into my mind. His rhetoric perfect. His voice charming to the last. I let a hoof move down the frame of the mirror. It was glass. Obsidian, volcanic.

“I don’t understand,” I dropped my hoof to the floor. A floor that I now realized was covered in arcane glyphs beyond my knowledge.

That weapon of immense power, I know that you saw its detonation. The design of the weapon came from a world beyond this one. A dead one but one with weapons such as that. Now, if you desire a place in history, and for there to be a history, you must accede to my demand that you travel to another world.

As he said this I heard the crack of a gunshot from the hall, and a scream of pain shortly thereafter. I tensed as I felt the impulse to take cover behind the mirror.

The time is short, Fetters is giving his life so that my descendants and their blighted imaginations cannot prevent the only plan to save our world. For on the other side, Permittivity, is all that is need to win the next war before the Celestians obtain the same weapons. Your mission is to weaken that world, to prepare it to be brought into the empire.

My thoughts had been upturned yet again. The war that had cost so much had only ended because of some piece of technology brought through some otherworldly gate? This was too much, too much too soon. I let a breath from my lungs as I took in the picture again. My prospects had seemingly gone from suicidal mad mare to a mad mare of a different caliber entirely. Enchanted mirrors that broke the barriers from this world to the next? That I could almost believe, I could feel the power in it. I could also feel the familiarity to the most peculiar spell I could cast. But, the spirit of the first emperor residing in that object, and a plot involving the crown and the future of the world. None of this made sense but as I remembered what I had done not five hours ago… And listened to the sounds of gunfire from the corridor advancing steadily.

“I don’t believe you’ve left me much of a choice.” I said as I gave the mirror a glare. “If half of what you say is true it doesn’t matter. I question your faith in me, but I’ll be steadfast.”

I don’t reveal myself for just anypony. Now bow. His voice once again found purchase from within my mind, it was compelling in a way that nopony had ever been.

It was edged with mirth. But, I did as he requested, the cacophony of gunfire nothing more than a backdrop as my legs lowered with what grace I could muster.

Take that talisman and place it around your neck. That is your connection to this world and more importantly to me. To most ponies like Fetters it does little but provide a reserve of crystal from below. It will give them strength and nourishment. And bind them to me. I deftly pulled it towards me, the blue of my magic reflecting back upon me. My eyes closed as I manipulated it above my head. The talisman found its place hanging in the front of my chest. My eyes opened. Magical energy flowed from my horn draining me as it normally would, however the talisman replenished it. Furthermore, the stallion in the mirror looked resolute and vigorous. The scars remained, the sleeplessness still marked him as well. But in his eyes there was fire where before there had been emptiness.

Rise, Sir Permittivity of Maidenpool, may your victories be numerous and mine. May your glories be yours alone. Now make haste towards them.

I rose to my hooves feeling stronger than I had ever been. I felt that I could do battle with half this tower’s guards and be victorious. Being knighted had been a dream of mine since my colthood, though that aspiration had died alongside many others as adolescence became adulthood. This mirror had known things that I had not considered in decades. I felt an involuntary shudder.

“Tell me how I am to weaken this other world? If they are as strong as you make them out to be?” I said with a note of trepidation in my voice. On the other side of the door I heard the gunfire abate, with loud voices filling the void soon after. They were coming.
With a flash, the mirror’s surface became one of iridescent blue. A sea of possibility rippling with ethereal energy. If I had closed my eyes it still would have been left an impression in my mind. The magical power it exuded becoming something beyond my comprehension. The door handle detached itself from the door as the security ponies breached it.

Our time is short, remember these things, time flows the same here or there. There are places where the boundaries between worlds are porous. You can contact me there. Though there is only one place where things may cross. Lastly, these ponies are strong but irrevocably divided, all that is needed to ease the conquest is to find the destroyer. The catalyst. You will meet them. That I am certain of, though I know not why.

That expressed doubt sent a pang of confidence through me. Omniscient he was not. Though that was balanced by a feeling of near understanding at the mention of a fated meeting. Remember this, your purpose is what drives you, and your purpose is nothing less than what mine was so long ago. From behind me, the sound of a door opening made me stay still.

A stallion ran inside with several others following, they aimed rifles and pistols at my back. At the same time the shimmering became something else. It showed neither my reflection not some space between spaces, rather it showed a pitch black room now illuminated by the same sodium bulbs as this one.

“Stop where you are Celestian!” The first guard yelled at me. “Turn around and keep that horn dark,” He followed with.

This is all an aspect of the plan. Sombra spoke into my mind.

The irregular chunk of obsidian hanging from my neck gave me an idea. It all depended upon the amount of power I could pulse at once. My lungs filled once more. And in a fraction of a second, every light exploded from the sheer power flowing through them. The burst of light gave way to absolute darkness as I lept into the portal. Just before the bullets followed Sombra shut the entrance. One final thought leapt across the void at me.

Two moons hence, it begins. Be ready.

I lit my horn, feeling at once exhilarated and drained by the flurry of emotions I had experienced, alongside the magical strain that I had just bared. In the light of my horn I realized that I had no idea where I was, other than on another world. I had nothing but my wits and a talisman. Under my hooves was a smoothed concrete. Behind me was a circular object hewn of reflective metal with wiring crisscrossing that frame. I looked around, and to that end there was a solid metal door. I walked towards it. I looked to the left and right of it, it seemed to have no obvious locking mechanism.

This could end poorly. I thought to myself before trying my spell once again. There were pathways buried in this door, electromagnets were used in the proper operation of this door. So, this facility would appear to be abandoned. I thought as I gave electrical potential and amperes to the wire coiled around the ferrous bars. As I did this I realized that this door was most likely meant to be remote operated from a safe distance. Which would make sense, if this portal was anything like the portal that Sombra... was.

The door opened as its locking mechanisms were pulled away. And I stepped into a corridor filled with Arabian Ponies who were just as surprised as I was.

There was a shriek from a female and a number of stallions that took up defensive postures.

“Stand where you are Transient!” A stallion said in butchered equestrian.

“I don’t know what’s going on, who are you?” I said in a pleading voice, the confusion written across my muzzle was half manufactured, the fear was purely a facade. Sombra had been a mover of worlds, and he had named me the same. I was going to act like one. To make a life for myself, for myself.

Hello, brave new world.

Not That Kind Of Girl (VII)

The sun took its damn time going down, but at least we had air moving around us. That made a difference. At least, it made a difference for those of us not wearing armour. Sand passed by the window in a blur, and from behind I could see the tracks being left by us, we wouldn’t be hard to track… Then again, we were the hunters.

I was in the lead vehicle, our behemoth belching unburnt fuel in a plume coming from its exhaust pipe. Inside were eight ponies, five of us wearing armour, sitting in the back of the half track. The Steel hanging above us kept the confines of the vehicle sweltering, the ventilation windows were opened and a little fan was buzzing away inside the vehicle, aimed at the unarmoured ponies. Us knights were cooled by our armour. The drivers? Not so much.

Behind us were two more of these vehicles, one with a thirty millimeter cannon mounted in a turret above it, and the other, a tanker in the rear, filled to the brim with diesel.

I looked to my left (it was against official policy, but all of our helmets were sitting in our laps or the benches beside us). Ironsight was sitting with her back pushing against the steel of the wall. In her hooves were a set of orders, terminal printed, fresh paper too!

“How was the boat ride back?” I said before letting out a yawn. Long rides always put me to sleep.

She stayed as she was, eyes glued to the page, reading glasses perched on the back of her muzzle. “Quieter,” Ironsight said.

“It’s funny,” I said quietly.

“What’s funny, Icepick?” She said with a huff, knowing that she would be hooked by that line. In other words, it wasn’t the first time.

“You didn’t even ask about the two weeks I was gone?”

“Knight, if you want to write a report, make sure to double space it.” She flipped the page of the document with the edge of her hoof.

“Normal ponies ask about those kinds of things,” I said to her scrunched face. “Ravioli, he asked me about why I was gone. Just like AV; tartarus, your brother asked about you! You didn’t even want to know if I ran into him.”

I crossed my forelegs in front of me.

“Icepick, you act irresponsibly, and leave me to pick up the pieces! Not all of us have just enough leeway with command to do the things you do. Not all of us make an effort to give our higher ups a hard time. And I personally try to leave my feelings out of my assignments.” She said to a quiet cabin, the only noise coming from the engine. Everypony in the cabin, excluding us were looking away. It didn’t matter. This was between myself and her. In other words, it wasn’t the first time. Ironsight the angry mare had returned. The muscles in her neck were corded and I’m sure the rest of her looked like a snake about to strike-

“I was going to say that your brother misses you, he’d like you to write him, or ‘get some time, and head over’.” Her face turned neutral, she had mixed feeling about her brother. She’d told me that I was basically him in mare form. I had never figured out whether that was a good thing or not. “Oh and almost forgot!” I looked at her hunched over form, just as encased in armour as mine. It didn’t matter, we were rangers. I scooched over a little closer to her before opening my forelegs and shifting my weight to my hinds. She was giving me a look I knew well. And as I surprise hugged the mare she let out a yelp of surprise as her papers hit the sand dusted floor.

“Blame your brother,” I said before disengaging the startled mare. The tension was broken by now, and the ponies in the cabin laughed at us. And the idea of siblings, knowing one of your breeders was rare, knowing both of your breeders was practically unheard of, and Iron was the only pony I knew that knew her sibling.

I pulled away before she said anything more.

“I always do,” she said flatly. “So, I heard that you pleaded your case to Quesadilla.” She continued on, she wasn’t as angry now. I knew her well enough to defuse her.

“Yeah, she didn’t want to overstep the decision of the elder,” I said to her with smile on my muzzle and a glare at her eyes.

“If it was my decision I’d have you out in the badlands, fixing up antennas, locating machinery, sitting at a desk. Simple, mechanical, service for temperamental mare like you,” she said bluntly, “Then again, knowing you, you’d launch a crusade to let the miners have holidays off. And you know how many they have.”

“That’s your problem right there, you just dismiss things like that, things that aren’t already part of the master plan. For all we know, a dozen days a year off might actually boost productivity.”

“If it was a good idea we would have already implemented it. Icepick, we have the best body of knowledge of anypony in history, a millennia of Equestria's time in the sun to use and preserve.” She locked eyes with every other ranger in the tail end of the carriage in rapid succession. “To use, to preserve.” This was her moment of victory, she felt proud about that statement. I imagined that becoming a motto, plastered across a training manual and memorized by young rangers.

“I’ll drink to it. We’re rangers, after all,” I yelled after a moment of silence. The other four laughed, and Ironsight shook her head while a smile cracked across her muzzle. My smile was forced; I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well, if you’re buying, Knight.”

“I know a guy, or three if you let me borrow one of these…” I said to her. I was the hookup. Nobody else knew where the stills were out in the desert.

“You could fill out the paperwork for one of the smaller utility vehicles.” She said with a subtle but condescending smile crossing her muzzle. The knight third-class across from us chuckled at that, imagining me in one of them.

“I dunno, I got an image to uphold,” I said.

“What a mural of wasteful theatrics,” she quipped.

“Well, if you read the codex, there is a doctrine called called shock and awe.”

That got a laugh out of everyone.

“If only you could obey orders, then you’d be an example to follow.”

She said in a lowered tone. Then I’d be a ranger. Then I would live up to my purpose.

We came to where our intelligence told us the insurgents would be traveling through, a dry riverbed with a gentle slope on one side and a steeper slope with rocks embedded in the walls. It was approaching midday, so we had at most two hours to get things ready. To the north there was a butte about half a mile down the rough road.

They dropped us off near the ridge, we put our helmets on our heads. To someone who didn’t know what we were, we’d look like pony shaped robots, stronger, faster, not affected by heat or the weight on our backs. The sand coloured camouflage was broken by darker spots and lighter areas. A baker’s dozen military machines setting up an ambush for an enemy that wasn’t prepared for us, that couldn’t handle us when they knew about us, yet they fought on anyway.

As another explosives specialist and I worked some detonation charges into the rockier side of the slope, I focused on the work. Bore a hole here, shape the putty, shove it in, and work the detonator into the surface. Doing the thing that they got their cutie mark doing helps a pony forget their troubles for a little while, most of the time.

I watched the rest of us set themselves behind a series of rocks on the opposite slope. They’d be boxed in. Our plan.

There were thirty of them walking in each others tracks.The Arabians were wearing loose black robes and they carried a number of empty looking bags. We were to the west of them, in what was to them just a section of riverbed like any other. They didn’t expect the explosive charges to detonate behind them. The boulders and debris rocketed across their backside. We stepped out from behind our positions. I had my machine gun sighted on a number of the armed Arabians as we advanced at them slowly and methodically as one a knight fired up a loudspeaker integrated into their armour.

She yelled at them, I could make out the word for surrender and drop.

I could see most of them tense up, they reminded me of the stallions in the restaurant, compared to us they were wound up like steel cable. All I did was let out a breath as we all waited.

The stallions took turns looking around – they were all stallions – slowly realizing just how fucked they were. The air was crystal clear and as dry as a bone, their cracked lips and sweat soaked barding glistened in the sunlight. A stallion standing near the front of their group gave a shout at our megaphone mare. The Arabians stared at him like he had pissed on a foal. Something else caught my attention, the point stallion for the Arabians had just stomped a hoof on the ground and shouted.

“Fuck,” I said softly into my helmet. I hadn’t pressed the switch to transmit.

Our big fucking trucks had just started up, my head turned to face where they were hidden, the first truck had pushed into the road its engine revving just before the driver shifted gears. Whatever quiet we had trotted into was broken by the noise of exploding diesel. It caused a stir in them. That point stallion turned to them, there were a few hurried words exchanged. All of them seemed to aim their weapons towards us in unison. They had drilled. It was a near simultaneous exchange of fire. Our grenade launchers and machine guns tore up the land around them, riddling groups of them with holes and shrapnel. But as soon as it began we realized this wasn’t going to be bloodless for us. A burst of magical energy smacked into one of the other ponies in the group. It bore into the armours chest, and another ponies rifle bullet was able to penetrate the poor stallions breast plate.

Hiding themselves on the ground, running for a small gulley and using the few rapid fire weapons they had they were able to keep us on our hooves. All the while these Arabians get lucky with high caliber rifle rounds, hitting seals and joints, taking a couple of us to the ground. We actually pulled back to the ridge, exchanging fire with them. When we had some concealment I turned to the nearest pony. Her paladin insignia staring me in the face. I flipped my radio on while looking at her.

“Who the fuck has these kinds of weapons!?” I yelled before moving my body out of cover to fire a burst at an exposed insurgent. He seemed to collapse as a round or two tore into his chest.

“Non-photonic energy weapons were developed and deployed in the Saddle Arabian Desert, according to records,” Ironsight said before sending a three round fusilade of forty mic mics in their general direction. She pulled herself back behind cover just as a battle rifle round struck her breast plate. The behemoth with the cannon was almost in engagement range. Just as I realized this, the rock right to the left of us exploded into pebbles. My heart pumped and I felt that same fear that I had in the restaurant. Or the when Agave had been in trouble.

We weren’t safe.

“They have rifle grenades,” Ironsight said through the radio just as I threw myself into a gallop towards the rocks we had set behind them. My body wasn’t aimed at them, I was just trying to get in the right position to end this. A stallion or two tried to pepper me with magical energy but they couldn’t aim worth a damn. And after an eternity of blood pounding in my skull I had gotten behind the avalanche of stone. At that moment the brass boom of cannon shells being hurled into their positions from their right flank registered in my ears. They had to be on the verge…

Bolting up the pile and jumping onto their side was a risk, but, as they were now caught on all sides by angry rangers. The energy buck saw me and was pulling the gun towards me. I fired a burst. The ammunition tore into him. He was dead as soon as his legs buckled. They were down to almost none. I aimed and sighted with my lips curled into a sneer. These fuckers had hurt us, could have killed us. So I paid them back with interest. I must have shut the radio off soon after. I don’t remember Ironsight telling the rest of them to hold their fire.

I lost myself in that moment. The barrel of my gun was red hot, close to melting under the sheer number of bullets that traveled down it, on their way to end some Insurgents life.

The thing that broke me of that was a scream. “Stop!” He said from behind the body of a pony I had just gunned down. “I surrender!” The arabian was slight of frame even as he cowered behind the corpse. His equestrian was better than any Arabian I had met before.

“Kick your gun away!” I yelled hoarsely. My throat was cracked. The rest of my body felt like steel cable pulled taut by adrenaline and fury.

He pulled himself up from the body, he was a small stallion. My shoulders would have met his eyes. “I don’t have one.” He yelled before slowly moving his forelegs up one at a time to show his lack of a battle saddle.

“Icepick, what the fuck was that?” I heard the voice of Iron from the side of me.

“Well, grab that fuckers handkerchief and tie and bite an end of it, walk out towards those ponies slowly with the end of it dangling towards the ground.” The stallion gave me a look of disgust before doing as I asked. Ironsight has decided that watching this strange buck get that makeshift white flag together was more important than berating me for finishing the fight.

When I heard her speaking in her command voice I realized that my radio was off. With a click I heard the tail end of her orders.

“-And we captured a prisoner. He speaks equestrian, treat him well and have him prepared for interrogation by me. Everypony else clean this place up grab all the weapons and ammunition, anything useable add that to the behemoths, everything else we’ll burn with the bodies. Now get to it.” She finished addressing them before turning to face me. I met her leveled gaze.

“That was nigh suicidal Icepick,” she barked at me. But, it sounded like she was farther away. My ears were ringing after that. It was a miracle that I heard his cries in between the thundering of my gun.

“No, it was the thing that needed to be done. They scarred us. Scarred you. They sure as tartarus scarred me. Fucking terrified us.” I let my eyes drift the field. Holes in the limestone road and our rocky concealment testified to the amount of fire exchanged.

“I-” She tried to speak but I cut her off.

“But, unlike the rest of you, I knew we just needed to corner them like the rats they are. We’re Rangers. Shock and awe is our fucking shtick. Yet these fuckers had us in shock. I saw that and ran at them showed them what a ranger does. What we’re trained from birth to do. To fight and if necessary die. Say what you will about these goat fuckers, but they fight harder than we do and die all the damned time!” I let out a breath before looking her in the eyes. “I knew I could have died. I’m ready to die for the Rangers. Are the rest of us ready to do the same or are they too spoiled in their armour, and too fucking confident that they can’t be touched?” I pointed a hoof at the body of the stallion with the magical energy weapon. “I have no idea where they’re getting those from but as long as they have them, well, we have to be comfortable with rangers around us dying.”

She turned to face me before stepping closer. “Icepick, I lied earlier. I read about the events in Ramsgard. The bombing. That restaurant. Luna damnit, I know what you saw. I know we lost fifty rangers. But you charging right in front of them or to the side, that was you losing control. Brave or not, that wasn’t the thing I ordered. We move together. That’s what rangers do, not getting behind them and blowing through them while exposing yourself to your allies guns. Icepick, you lost it just as much as we did. We stood back waiting for the big gun. You stampeded at them like a crazy mare!” There was a movement in her neck, she wanted me to agree so badly.

“It worked. Now if you want to write me up for another psyche evaluation or demotion do it later, we have a weird stallion to pick at.” I turned toward the Behemoths.

Ironsight said nothing and followed from behind.

“All I know is where we were next supposed to go!” The captured stallion said to us. Ironsight, A knight stallion and I were watching him wilt under our gazes. And a kick to the side or three. He wallowed on the ground with what was probably a broken rib after I had gotten him with a weak forekick.

“Then fucking tell us!” I yelled at him. “Do it or you’re useless to us!” I said before pulling a service pistol from my reserve holster. I chambered a round with a quick motion of my foreleg. My helmet had been off since the first kick. I had wanted to see him my eyes. I wasn’t a fucking robot. Robots can’t feel anger. Robots can’t feel pain. Robots don’t want to make somebody shit themselves in terror.

“Just continue down this road for another hundred kilometers, then you should be able to see the top of an extractor–” he said, speaking quickly. Trying to save his own skin most likely. I wasn’t feeling very charitable. These fuckers, and I knew in my heart it was more than him, had given these ponies guns. And the fuckers in Ramsgard. The idea that the same raiders that had been terrorizing villages left and right had been given guns by these fucks, it made my head spin? What were they willing to do to make life harder for us?

“That’s alright, you can tell us on the way. You’re coming with us, and in the lead vehicle so if there’s an ambush you’ll be just about the first to die.” I said to him right after dropping my pistol back in its chest holster.

I walked over to the stallion. “You can also tell me where you learned to speak like that? Huh, want some alone time with me?” I said with a lilt.

He just looked terrified in response. I spat into the dirt beside his face. Then I spun around and walked off towards the lead behemoth. From behind me I could hear the stallion pickup the Arabian and load him onto the back of another ranger. He was going to get a look from the medic pony- after all the injured rangers. When I reached the behemoth I sat on my rump and rifled through my right saddlebag lazily. I found what I was looking for, a pack of stress relief. It had only been a few minutes since the end of the fighting. If I was in luck… I shoved the end of it against the side of the barrel of my gun. After a few seconds it lit. I put the filtered side of it against my mouth. My lungs pulled heavily on it, I needed it after that.

He had broken like a twig. He wasn’t fighter, he reminded me of a lot of the rangers. Sheltered. This battle had to have been a wakeup call for this unit. I hoped. The stallion who had taken the shot in the chest wasn’t going to make it. The shot had cracked her sternum, and with that broken any potion was probably going to regrow it wrong, and that would kill her. Probably. Medicine was weird. The medic pony might just try it anyway if the only other option was to let her die of internal hemorrhaging. I let the smoke rest in my lungs for a moment. Healing ponies was harder than hurting them, killing them. Sometimes we were hypocrites. Sometimes we screwed over the Arabians. But, in the end we were bringing them better lives, and these ponies were causing more deaths to the regular Arabian than they were to us. I didn’t understand.

The smoke drifted out of my mouth. I saw Ironsight make her way over to me. She always had a speed to her, the briskness that comes from grasping her own purpose. I took another drag.

“You know that that’s bad for your health right?” Ironsight asked me as she stood in the middle of my vision.

“Always giving me shit for the things I enjoy and patting me on the back about things that I don’t. Never change,” I said before patting the spot next to me. She gave me a questioning look. I patted the sand harder with the forehoof.

“And you’re always asking me to do things I don’t want to do. Please change.” She said with a chuckle as she sat down beside me.

“So, do you think he’s the real deal?” I asked her suddenly. I looked at the thin nub of cigarette I had left, a second or two from burning my lips, and grabbed it by a foreleg. I flicked it off towards the setting sun. A memento to remember us by.

“I have never heard an Arabian who speaks equestrian like that, like they learned it from birth. First language. If that’s possible.”

“So an outside group? Equestrian speaking Arabians that just happen to have a lot of armament? Why now? We’ve been here for a century? If this stallion isn’t just an aberration.” Her voice cast doubt on my theory. But, it was the only thing that seemed to make sense. Some asshole Arabians hiding away, waiting for some moment to fuck with us.

“Well, we were sent out here to arrest arms shipments. And I was given a fair amount of discretion in how to deal with this problem,” she said.

“We have the fuel,” I said with a quick glance at the diesel behemoth parked behind us.

“You’re a bad influence on me. At least my brother knows how to gain rank.”

I gave her a wounded look.

“Look, I tried to be a perfect ranger once. And you know how that ended. What I do now is try to do what’s the best for us, even when the ponies in charge don’t know what benefits us.”

“That’s not your role, the chain of command is there for a reason, Ice,” she said dismissively.

“We tell the Arabians what’s best for them because we know things that they don’t. It’s not that different than me doing what needs to be done, if I know things that the elder doesn’t.”

“So, running after those bandits, you knew more than me?” She asked pointedly, before going for one of my cigarettes. It took her a bit longer for her to light the cigarette off of my hot barrel.

“You’ve never really spent time around natives. I have. You don’t really know how their minds work. You saw those bandits as a minor threat to the amount of grain moving down river that you could report. So not really worth the time. The villagers, they saw them as an end to theirs. It’s all a matter of perspective. It took me a couple rangers and a few days to solve an existential problem to them. Don’t you see?”

Her eyes shifted towards the setting sun. “Yes, I agree about the villages. That’s why I let you go. I don’t know what you see me as, but I have for a long time seen you as a manifestation of my conscience. So, I let you get away with things. Ever since the time–” I cut her off. This pony had been using me to ease her own fucking conscience?

“What the fuck, you’ve been letting me go off and get my ass chewed out doing the things you’re too much of a coward to do?!” I yelled at her. This was new. Somehow this was worse, at least if she didn’t agree, she’d have a reason not to act.

“Icepick, I do what I need to do to rise up in the ranks, and so does Reflex. Someday soon, ponies like us will be in charge, and we’ll be that much stronger; more steel being made, more rangers and maybe even some new arcanotech. Then we’ll be able to help these ponies out more thoroughly.” She said with a huff. Like I was the unreasonable one.

“Always pushing the day that we do what we’ve promised forward,” I said.

“Tell that to me after we’ve crushed these new Arabians that you so fervently believe in,” she said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” I said. At least now I knew we agreed more than I thought we did.

“Well, I have to file a report. See you on the first behemoth.” She looked happier, like she had gotten a secret off of her chest. I resented her a little less now. Maybe we just had different ways of getting what we wanted. Maybe.

It was food for thought at a time where I was anything but starving.

The place our prisoner had pointed out was larger than any of us expected. It was several large buildings, surrounded by large open pit mines that had been largely filled in by drifts of sand, and excavators that were either rusted but still up or rusted and collapsed. We stopped our vehicles on the edge of the place, in a cleared area beside what looked like the administrative section. We stepped out, and decided to sweep the place, since it was night. After that we would meet rendezvous back here and plan an ambush.

The initial EFS scan was clear. We decided to break up into smaller groups than usual to speed things up.

I had three other ponies under my command. An apprentice named Glaive, a mare with two assault rifles modified to be fed from an ammunition belt at her sides and an initiate, Lathe, who had been given his armour for this mission.

“We’ve been given the building in the bottom of that pit,” I said to mygroup. I unlocked the bolt on my machine gun and armed my missiles. It was time to root any of these fuckers out and shut this operation down. If the stallion was lying through his teeth, well…

It was the furthest building from the vehicles and nearly the closest to the sand pits.

The building we had been sent to look through was nothing more than a mess hall with a kitchen and small staff quarters attached. Our EFS was clear other than the blips of our fellow rangers. So, we took our time, looking through the shelves of expired food, and the like. While we were searching, I spied a terminal sitting under a desk in the living quarters.

When I dusted the thing off I realized that this terminal would probably work. There was no magical event near here. After a brief search, I found it had a reserve battery slot.

“Hey, Lathe, do you remember seeing a spark battery in that kitchen?” I yelled into the wider building.

“Yes, Knight. Let me bring it to you,” he said curtly. Good buck. I heard a crash and a bang before he brought it to me.

Just as he made his way into the room, we heard Glaive say something to us.

“Knight, there is a fallout shelter built into the stock room, steel door. Looks like a bulkhead off of a pre-war ship.”

“Alright, you and Lathe try popping it open. Just try not to break the door or your armour okay, that mostly means you, Lathe…” I said with a shake of my head. This place having a fallout shelter was pretty odd. No-one would waste a balefire bomb here. Only one bomb was detonated at the end of the war and that was to the south. Well, there was a weapon dropped on a small resort town far to the north of us. But, that was across either hundreds of miles of ocean or a similar amount of empty desert.

That was one of those things we only knew about through records and written reports hoofed down to us from old timers decades ago. Still, it’s kinda curious that the zebras would bomb a random coastal city with no military value.

Eh, Zebras were fucking irrational monsters. Willing to turn Equestria to ash. And themselves by doing it.

After a few minutes of frustration I got the corroded battery terminals to connect. Powered on, the terminals apple green glow greeted me. It had no security on it so I found a pony’s log on it. I read the last entry.

Things have pretty much spiraled out of hand, after we lost contact with corporate over the ham we’ve basically just sat here. The last fuel shipment didn’t arrive in all the chaos, and well, it’s getting colder in the day and it’s nearly polar at night. I never expected to freeze to death in the desert… But that’s looking more and more likely every day. All the Arabians left as soon as they saw the clouds travelling over the horizon. Maybe I should have joined them, least they get to die with their families.

I don’t know how long the extra food and water is gonna last us, that fallout shelter had a lot, but well, there are forty ponies left…

I shivered. Usually, there weren’t records of the… end left around.

I heard a quick call from one of the other groups. Their building was clear. Now, I could have said that myself awhile back, but I was curious about this terminal, and Lathe and Glaive were poking and prodding that door. I scrolled to an earlier entry, it even looked uncorrupted.

I gotta give these Arabians credit, they dug out a lot of tunnels by hoof. Big ones. Could probably hide all of us in them. Not that we’re gonna be digging through the dirt by hoof ourselves. Nah, an open pit mine makes a whole lick more sense. Still all those tunnels gotta be useful for something, storage rooms or… What was it that the boss told us to get ready? Fallout shelters. I wonder why we’d need a fallout shelter all the way in Saddle Arabia?

Well, if we just stick some good doors on the tunnel entrances and put some food and battery lights in there, it should be good enough for the boss and corporate.

Oh fuck, gotta go put out another grease fire. These Arabians don’t know how to fry shit.

Oh shit. This could be bad. My thoughts shifted as I heard a gun go off from down the hallway. “To all rangers, they’re in the walls and tunnels.” I spoke just as the trap swung shut. I made back to where Lathe was, the door was open and Glaive was on the ground her head collapsed inward from a rifle shot to her eye slot. My lips curled as I fired a suppressive shot into the corridor. On the left side of the storage room Lathe was keeping his weapons aimed at the entrance. I sprinted over to the other side of the door.

From the radio I heard the call to retreat back towards the vehicles. I knew what I had to do, just like I had early that day.

I rooted through my bags while Lathe looked at me with terror. “They were lucky, now go take these.” I threw him a set of breaching explosives and a remote detonator. “And set them at the entrance of this room, both sides of the door. Wait two minutes and blow them alright?” I said to him as I closed my bags and made damn sure my ammunition belts were going to feed correctly.

I switched my head lamp on, and toggled the automatic light amplification off. I wasn’t making that mistake again.

“What are you going to do, Knight?” He said with fear and confusion playing through his voice.

“The unexpected,” I said to him before I stepped into doorway and fired another burst. The tracers lit up the length of the passage, which wasn’t long. Another thirty feet it branched ran into a perpendicular tunnel. I waited for the rifle pony to pop around the corner. One, Two, Three- and I shredded half his body with my shots.

Then, then I ran forward. Trying to make it to that corner. Trying to save the others.

I continued forward catching some of the Arabians unaware. Others not so much.

Them putting most of their forces near the front made sense. Rushing rangers in close quarters made a lot more sense than attempting it in the open. We weren’t exactly used to close quarters combat. They weren’t.

And as I heard a low rumble following a loud detonation from the tunnel behind me. I knew that I had prevented a pincer movement.

I was the lone pony in a large room that had empty barrels of potable water and other supplies, along with skeleton covered floors. I poked around the barrels hoping to find a hiding Arabian. After the first three Arabians in those initial tunnels the place had seemed deserted. Only bones and some tracks left in the dust floors. The rock was thick enough to stop our radio transmissions. I hoped that all the rangers made it out, and killed the asshole that had led us here.

This was a good plan on the Arabians part, wait until the occupier thinks that they’re safe by hiding in tunnels that were shielded by EFS. Then attack the units closest to the escape vehicles first. It reminded me-

No, that wasn’t likely. And if I saw him I would kill him. I’d just smash his head and his balls into paste.

In the corner at the edge of my vision I saw movement in one of the adjoining hallways. I turned my body to face them. I stopped in my tracks as when I saw their sprinting from across the room, I might have hit them, probably a fifty-fifty chance if I had fired. But I didn’t. I could see a burnt orange coat on this pony. Weird for an Arabian I thought to myself, but then I saw the horn. My mind froze. I had seen this stallion before. Kind of.

But, by then he had ran past. When I sprinted up to the passage he was already in one of two passages. Of course there was a fucking fork. Whatever, maybe he was a fucking hallucination…

I thought before making my way up one of the forks. These had to run into the surface again, eventually.

I could tell this room was a big one from the echoing my hoof steps created at the entrance. Like all the others it was pitch black. And a ranger head lamp only extended so far. I had a bad feeling about it as I entered. My head was on a swivel.

Then they dropped the flares. Two bright fucking flares ended up right in front of me. After a second of adjustment I realized there were two stallions rushing towards me. Both wearing some pretty nice kit, pre-war ballistic plating and helmets. I turned to face one of them. My gun was pointed at his face. He stopped and just before I turned his face into chunks, I heard a yell. I turned my head on impulse. Standing at the end of the room was a large Insurgent with a very big gun aimed at me.

“Knight, don’t,” He said in a pleading voice. I pulled the trigger before jumping sideways. The first stallion had his face cave in. Before I could aim at the bigger stallion he had fixed his gun on me. Both of us had firearms aimed at the other. And his looked big enough to be a problem. In my peripheral vision the other stallion was now standing with an odd looking rifle aimed at my head. Shit.

“You know that there’s probably about a fifty fifty shot that the bullets from that thing your lackey has will just slide right off of my steel? And if you decide to go for it I’ll make sure you end up like your friend over there.” I said to him. He had spoken in Equestrian, he’d understand.

“So, by your unbiased reckoning, it’s a coin flip that you could kill me and survive his retribution. What would you suggest, Icepick? Take the both of us prisoner? Have us promise to be good little natives and walk along the desert to a holding cell to be tortured by ponies that want nothing more than complete domination of every member of my race?” He finished his rhetorical flourish by laughing.

“Tegarni, I couldn’t recognize you under all those dirty rags. No, I’d let your companion go and take you. Wait here for a larger force. Standard protocol.” I said to him. On an unrelated note, power armour helmets are great for helping you bluff.

“Phug yoo!” The other stallion said with the rifle’s trigger group in his mouth.

“Silt has a wife and three foals. He wants them to live in a world that isn’t dominated by whorish tin cans. He won’t be bought.” Tegarni responded with a chuckle.

“Alright, I’m curious, why do you and him speak differently than the rest of the Arabians?” I said, trying to distract him or make him slip up and give me some valuable information. It’d help to salvage something if he bit bullets.

“That’s an interesting question,” He said before unfocusing his eyes slightly.

“I try.”

“It’s unlikely that he’s one of yours, then. Perhaps the others were correct in that he was truly what he said he was. No, he didn’t feel ignorant.” Tegarni said to himself with a shake of his head. He had a habit of speaking his thoughts aloud when he was thinking deeply.

“What are you talking about?” Tegarni was confusing.

“The orange unicorn, whore.” The buck behind me said with a snort.

“With a brown mane and blue eyes? Speaks funny?” I asked Tegarni. whose muzzle opened up to examine my helmeted face.

“So, you know this stallion?” He asked with anxiousness written across his muzzle. “That’s an acceptable answer for now, when we break you once more you’ll tell us the truth…” His words changed his muzzle. A sly grin broke it up, his white teeth showing through.

As I started to speak I heard a gunshot from behind me and no impact on the back of my helmet. My head turned to face the stallion behind me; he was dying from a bullet through the throat. The stallion passed out before he hit the ground.

Another shot rang out and I saw the bullet hit the wall behind Tegarni from the edge of my eye slit. My head turned as quickly as it could towards the source of the shots with the rest of my body rotating to… From the doorway the unicorn from before was aiming an equestrian battle rifle at Tegarni, I pointed my gun at him but by then he had pulled the trigger…

Nothing. No click. The primer didn’t go off. I turned my head just enough to catch Tegarni flying around the corner, getting away for the second time. My anger spiralled out of control as I took aim at the stallion. He moved to aim the barrel at me. I looked at his eyes.

He was the stallion I had seen in the mirror. He looked older, though. I didn’t remember seeing scars on his muzzle when I had had those dreams. I aimed the barrel away from him. His gun’s barrel stayed away from my body. A second after that, right as I was about to speak, the gun went off. He dropped it to the ground. Of course the asshole would be saved by a goddess damned hangfire.

“Apologies, I would have warned you, but the situation was fraught,” he said, almost apologetically. His voice was the final thing. He sounded exactly like the stallion from the dreams. As I stood there dumbstruck, he pursed his lips. I shook my head and spoke.

“You let him get away, why didn’t you shoot at him first?” When he heard my voice his eyes opened just a bit wider. He seemed surprised.

“It was a decision made in a fraction of a second, surely you understand? You looked as though you needed the help, gratitude would be appreciated.” The stallion said before lifting the gun the stallion behind me had. He levitated it towards him, he folded the stock quickly before taking the sling on the dropped rifle and clipping it on the other gun. Without missing a beat he opened the other gun’s magazine up before pulling the ammunition out. Was he counting the ammunition in the magazine?

“Thanks!” I said indignantly. Now, I wasn’t going to have much to show for this, left behind in unfamiliar territory. Maybe, going off on my own wasn’t my best plan of action. “What the fuck is your name and why are you here?”

“I could ask the same of you. However, you asked first. Permittivity, I was with these Arabians on a routine scavenging expedition. They just happened to spot your lot coming over the horizon. This was for them a happy accident. It also provided a chance for me to escape their custody. So, in it was also something of a happy accident for me as well.”

I could feel my eye twitch as he spoke casually about this shit show. I didn’t know how many rangers had died here, but in my gut I knew it was way too many. All the while this stallion had simply walked over to the dead stallion’s corpse and was picking through his belongings. I turned to watch the stallion pull the intact armour off of the stallion’s body. It was Equestrian marine combat armour, most of a complete set. This Arabian had some decent kit. Not that it stopped the bullet through the throat, but still.

“Why would they take a prisoner out of their base?” I asked him.

“I wasn’t a prisoner per se, I was more of a curiosity that they wanted to keep an eye on.” He continued stripping the armour off of the body staring down at it. “They don’t meet many ponies from the grasslands. So, they asked me how I got there and told me that they would help me find my way back home.” He snorted. “After I answered some questions. Eventually they realized I wasn’t going to tell them anything worthwhile, so here I am after volunteering to help them strip copper wire.” Permittivity shot me an sardonic look before gesturing at his flank. A reel of uncovered copper wire flanked by twin lightning bolts caught my eye.

“So you know where their base is at?” I said impatiently. Permittivity had dropped his saddlebag on the ground and was putting on the dead stallions armour. Greaves, breastplate, shoulder pauldrons and spine protector. The armour was about the same as the stuff worn by the Ramsgard security ponies.

“If you know where this place is then, yes. I could could give you its position in relation to this mine. Though I wonder how you hope to use it in your current position.” He gestured at the mostly empty room. The room lit entirely by the pulsing light of the flare and my head light. The bodies lying where we had shot them with pools of blood spreading over the chalky ground gave the room a horrible feeling.

“I’ll take the information and get it to Ramsgard.” I said to him.

“You know that he’ll be patrolling the desert for you if you try to get back the way you came? This force wasn’t even supposed to fight, most of the ponies were just the regular natives that the elites send out to dig up scrap materials for. Tegarni just gave them some grenades or rifles or what have you and sent them out to fight you lot.” He seemed angry for a moment as he said that last part.

“So why were you trying to kill him?” I asked, basically conceding the point that a direct approach to Ramsgard or my outpost would end with me dead, and an indirect one would probably have me die of dehydration.

“I may not have understood the dynamics of this new found relationship, but I believe I should get some commiserate answers out of you. Namely, what is your name and why are you alone?” He asked me in between stuffing ammunition and anything else that caught his eye in the saddlebags he wore.

“I-I, fine. I’m Knight Icepick of the Ramsgard Rangers. And I’m alone because I sent the pony that was left with me off to escape, I thought that I could blunt their attack by attacking them where they weren’t expecting it. Running into that waste of sperm was pure chance.” I had kept my eyes on his. He looked surprised again when I said my name. “Back to my questions, you haven’t earned an equal relationship yet. How many of them are left?” The unicorn just chuckled at the crack.

“Yet it seems I have the information you need? Isn’t that true?”

“True enough, but it’s in your own best interest to tell me. I don’t want to get violent with you, but I need to get that information back. So tell me-”

“All that survived left an hour before, Tegarni and his body guards stayed behind to kill the ranger that had stayed behind to kill them. I’d wager that the two of us are the last ponies in this place. Though I’d also wager that when Tegarni makes it back he’ll likely grab the garrison force and reclaim this place… And put our heads on pikes. They’re fond of that. Well... he is.” He said with a shake of his head.

“So, about how long do we have before they get here?” This stallion knew how to drag on with his words. I looked at him again. He liked his own voice.

“If he marches by night and uses stimulants to avoid sleeping himself, most likely before the sun rises tomorrow morning.” He said before looking at me once again. Permittivity’s face softened for a second like he wanted to ask a personally question before he returned to his energetic smugness. “So, the question truly is, do you think we should risk going south towards your compatriots or head off in another direction.”

“They’d probably guess that I’d head south with you. And they could catch up with us, especially if they have vehicles.” My eyes shifted towards the floor. Of course they’d find us if we went south. The rest of the rangers would too far away for my radio to reach them either. My mind was dwelling on this as he spoke up again.

“I do remember something one of the Arabians said while I was inside the facility. It was a snippet of conversation about some transmissions coming from the north-east.”

He finished speaking and continued looking at my eye slit.

“That’s fucking weird, we’ve never heard any radio transmission from up north.” I let the words drop out of my mouth. He seemed to stand taller when I said that.

“You do know that high frequency radio communication does not reflect off of the ionosphere?” He was an annoying buck.

“No, I didn’t. All I knew was that radios have a certain range,” I said to him. He snickered a little under his breath. I wanted to slug him. In the throat. Dream stallion or not, he was an ass.

“Well, that’s true, in certain contexts. In this instance though, we have an opportunity. You have a radio receiver in your armour, correct?”

“You really do like asking questions you know the answer to.” I responded with a huff. He smiled at me. The movement in his face made the scar above his muzzle stand out. Annoying or not, Big name had been in a fight. Or three.

“Isn’t that self-evident?” He said quickly, before speaking again. “So, in principle all that we need to do is triangulate the signal to determine its direction in relation to us. Between this computation machine that the Arabians gifted me,” he lifted a foreleg to show me a good condition… Not-pipbuck. It had a similar size but it wasn’t a pipbuck, different screen and buttons. “And with your exoskeleton’s radio receiver we should be able to determine the position of the broadcaster in short order.”

“Well, assuming this station is a thing, they probably run it on a regular clock schedule. And it’s getting late.” I laughed at him. The brainy stallions that love explaining things to you are the worst.

“Then we should begin.” Permittivity said to me simply. He liked laughing at me, and he didn’t like being laughed at. Self-absorbed prick.

Author's Notes:

I apologize for the formatting.
Technology isn't my strong suit. So, if you would like there will be a link on the blog post for this chapter.

It's Not You (IIX)

I wasn’t expecting a sack of books to be dropped on the desk at that moment. I mean, I was passed out with my face pushed into the scratched wood…

“Do you buy books?” a stallion said to me as I shook the sleep out of me. Good job watching the shop while your mother was out.

“Yes sir, but the prices really depend on the books you’re selling,” I said to him. Under the desk was a sheet for prices for bought book based on condition, hard or paperback and genre. I pulled it out as the stallion started piling books in front of me with his magic.

“Well, I have a couple trashy romances, a history of the Neighponese empire, two manuals both revolving around the salvaging and stripping of captured zebra equipment, and a Daring Do novel,” the stallion told me quickly like he had spent more than a few minutes practicing the list in his head.

“Give me a minute,” I told the stallion as I examined all the books. The romances would sell well… Some ponies loved cliqued romance. Not me though, not me at all!

The rest were in decent condition, and some history or military buffs would probably pay decently for them. “So, how did you get these?”

“I inherited them mostly, with the Neighponese book coming from a stallion that I helped by unlocking a strongbox for him. He enjoyed telling me about the martial prowess of the Neighponese gentry, and their magical blades. After I opened the lock he told me that I should read the book, ‘expand your mind,’ ‘they were the best blades ever made’, ‘most mares don’t appreciate my collection,’ and so on,” the unicorn stallion said with a laugh, his chestnut coat and facial tufts sticking out in my mind for some reason.

“Alright, I can give you thirty bits for the set,” I said to him with my best imitation of my mother’s bargaining face.

“Thirty-five, because I’m a friend,” he said with a chuckle.

“Thirty bits–you didn’t pay for them, you’re already making money…” I said to him, before unintentionally shrugging. He suddenly looked offended.

“I listened to that stallion prattle on for half an hour, that was emotional damage,” he said before starring at me intently. It might have just been my imagination, but I felt a bead of sweat start to pool on my forehead.

“I can’t-my mother needs to make some money off the top of these books.”

“That’s her business, what’s yours young buck? What do you want to do?”

“I’m an apprentice doctor,” I said back to him.

“That’s all, you just want to be a doctor? You don’t want mares or stallions, fountains of champagne?” I looked at him for a long moment, he seemed to be judging me.

“Pretty much, I really just want to help ponies. And being a doctor is a good way to do that,” I said to him.

“You want the best for all ponykind, is that right,” he asked me again.

“As much as anyone should,” I told him flatly.

“And you have humility in there, too. You remind me of someone I once knew,” he said, his smile dampening for a moment, before flaring up once again. “Alright, you master of the mercantile arts. Let me sweeten the deal, I can’t make any guarantees that you’ll be able to do anything with it but…” He pulled another smaller bag out of his jacket. It was a burlap sack like the other bag, but it only held one book judging by the outlines.

“If you add another book, the price I can offer should go up,” I said to him as he pulled the contents out and into the light. “Memory Orbs And You: A Helpful Guide To Your Perfect Self.” I said aloud. It was late in the day, and he was the only one in the store. “How to use orbs to remember all that you want to remember and all that you want to forget” was the subtitle. Then the stallion dropped a metal case that took up most of the bag on the table as well. With a click he popped it open. Inside were ten shining glass orbs, all sitting in a foam liner.

“I’ll give this to you for the low, low price of nothing. If you’ll sell me those books for forty bits,” the stallion said slyly. I looked at the orbs and the case before closing the case and pushing the book towards his side of the table. “Just imagine all the ponies you could help by taking their painful memories away, or just by viewing them yourself. Imagine the perspective you could gain in their lives…”

“There are only ten in the case, and I don’t even know if I could perform the spell?” He snorted.

“Alright, I’ll take the thirty bits for the books, and I’ll come back in a few days, if you can’t handle those spells, then I’ll take it back and you’ve got a good deal. If you have, then you owe me ten bits,” he said before pushing the books over to me.

“A-alright, but that still only leaves me with ten of these things.” I asked him as I counted out the bits we owed him.

“Well, if you can make heads or tails of that book, then I might know a mare who knows a mare’s uncle who can get you some more; besides, I made a bet with dear friend of mine, that I could get something done with these. Shake on it?” He offered his right forehoof. I took it and he moved his leg up and down for a few seconds. “By the way, my name is Low-Key, I provide unique solutions to sensitive problems. But, I really must go.” He said before picking up the offered bits, sticking them in his jacket pocket and trotting off, picking up a battered hat from the hat rack near the front.

I heard the door ding once. He was gone. That stallion was odd. I looked down at the book and the box of orbs.

“I’ll just read the introduction,” I said to myself, as I opened to the first actual page.

A few days later I was running the desk, Mildew was out doing something; I was to check people over, and to send people to another clinic if it was anything serious. I had already set a bone and diagnosed a case of iron deficiency that day, this wasn’t odd. I had been doing things like that for the last year. I ‘held the fort’ more and more these days. Mildew had been slowing down. He tried to hide it, but I was around the stallion too much for me to write it off as a passing ailment.

In my professional opinion (did I get to call it that yet?), he was suffering from degenerative arthritis. I kept the opinion private.

I had my nose buried in a text about bowel disorders when the bell rang. My head shot up, and I straightened my clothing on my body with a flash of pink telekinesis.

“I was expecting someone older,” a rigid mare said to me from the doorway, her yellow beret made me gasp.

“The doctor is out,” I said after a couple seconds of silence. I had a hard time keeping my eyes on hers. A Desert Ranger in my– in Mildew’s office. She trotted up to the front desk, her stride was long and steady, she moved without wasting any energy. She was a little smaller than most mares, but when she lifted her half of her body on the desk, she could easily look down at me with a sharp smile on her face. This small earth pony was giving me a grin that scared me and excited me in equal measure.

“What does that make you then? If you’re the sexy nurse, you’re missing the hat,” the ranger mare said to me, without a hint of restraint.

“Uh-uh-I’m the apprentice doctor. W-we d-don’t wear hats.” I stuttered out.

“Is that a personal preference or more of an institutional thing?” she said with flat curiosity written across her muzzle. She stared at me for a few seconds. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you!”

“Ha, ha,” I choked out feeling blood rushing to my cheeks. Pink fur please be useful at least once.

“So, I was hoping to talk to Doc Mildew, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the old fart,” she laughed a little before continuing. “If he’s hungover and hiding from the sunlight back there just tell him that Bajada is there to see his decrepit ass.”

“He’s really just at home, he left early. He said that he wasn’t feeling good” I said the mare.

“Well, shit. Guess I’ll get that physical I told the others that I was actually gonna get. I was looking forward to sharing a drink with him back there and catching up.” She said with a sigh.

“I don’t have any visits scheduled, and I can do a basic physical.” I said to her with a nervous smile.

“Don’t sound too excited!” She said before winking at me and flicking her tail as she walked behind the desk and into the office itself.

Okay, there’s a flirty, attractive, mare that you’re going to examine. Just keep it together! I walked in behind her, trying to not stare at her rump. Keep it professional.

We entered the room and she dropped herself onto the patient table. She sat lay down, spreading her forehooves out in front of her. Like a sphinx. Her sandy coat and dark blue mane made the impression fit, even as she stared at me trotting to my desk. Mildew’s desk-

“So, isn’t this where you ask some invasive questions, but it’s okay because you know how veins work or some shit?”

“T-typically.” I said while picking up the stethoscope while trying to bring to mind the normal battery of ‘invasive’ questions. “First, do you have any concerns, questions things like that?”

“Doctor, when I go wee wee it comes out red.” She said to me with eyes wide open. “Nah, I’m healthy as a horse. So, seriously, ask me a fun one?”

“Do you smoke?” I asked.

“Only imported cigars… No, I’m not cool enough to smoke!” She said with a laugh. Her cheeks dimpled when she laughed, and her hazel eyes lit up. Okay, she’s pretty. Really pretty.

“Good, so how much do you drink?” I asked her, if she wasn’t so attractive I’d be annoyed. Which really annoyed me more.

“I binge when socially appropriate. When that’s not going down I like to share a bottle of wine with a cute mare or stallion. And sometimes, though this is pretty rare, I down a bottle whatever is on hoof, alone, and cry.” She faked a quick crying spell. It wasn’t convincing.

“On to exercise: how much physical activity do you do on a weekly basis?” I made sure to note on the form that there she had a really cavalier attitude about the entire thing. Maybe the next psych evaluation would be even more fun for her. “Be serious this time, or I’ll make sure that the stethoscope is extra cold.”

“Welp, he brought out the big guns, better play it straight. Really, in the rangers we run about three miles a day. On a slow one when we’re awaiting deployment. Not to toot my own horn, but, I usually run ten or eleven.”

“Alright, time for the heartbeat check,” I said to her trotting up to her with the sensitive end of the stethoscope being held up by my magic.

“You didn’t ask about my sexual health, how many partners, do I swallow, normal questions.” She said in a critical tone with her head slightly tilted and a frown on her face. I stuttered and got flushed before rolling my eyes at her.

“Y-you can get an STI check with another physician,” I croaked out. Just before I pressed the cold metal end of the device against her chest. She yelped.

“Jerk,” she said before trying to stare a hole in my head. Baja didn’t like to lose anything, I could guess that from the look on her face.

“Come on, it isn’t like you haven’t seen them before right?” Baja said as she opened her hind legs in front of me. “I mean, you have textbooks right?”

“I’ve not really com-” I started saying before she spread herself open with her hooves. Everything looked good…

“I hope that means everything down there is alright, and not that you’re staring.” She said with a chuckle.

“No, I mean yes. I mean, I’m just observing your genitals.” I said with the initial nervousness I had felt returning in full force. I needed a drink to deal with this mare. And she needed about five. No, oh, just thought of sexing her. I really didn’t need to feel a tingle from my sheath. This isn’t the right time body!

Several minutes passed as I watched her and checked boxes that signified her as healthy. She mostly complied with a little bit of flourishes with her tail and hips, but right around the end…

“After this is over, do you wanna get a drink or something, I mean you’ve already seen the goods… and I haven’t seen anything other than some extra blood in your face from it,” she asked just before I told her I was done.

“Uh, you passed,” I told her without looking her in the eyes.

“C’mon, you can tell your friends that you went out with a Ranger,” She said before picking herself off the table and standing beside me as I finished checking all the right boxes. What friends. Who has time for friends. Maybe my mother would like me meeting somepony. I shook my head and felt my mouth turn to sand.

“I-I’m free tomorrow,” I told her. My heart rate had picked up a lot. I hoped it didn’t show.

“Stallions usually are. Eight at that little bar by the beach?” She was talking about a bar right next to the old naval yards, and the mostly reclaimed drydocks.

“Torpedo Juice, really?”

“C’mon, what stalliony stallion doesn’t like seeing a bunch of rusting metal? ‘Sides, what do think that torpedo fuel will do a little mare like me?” She asked with little bit of sing song in her voice.

“Your body weight has to be lower, even adding in muscle mass… Oh,” I said before she locked eyes with me.

“Yeah, you need to get out more,” she said flatly before grabbing the completed form suspended in my magic and trotting out with a swing to her hips. Just before she closed the door she smirked at me and my ogling.

The sun was still in the sky when I got home that day. When I opened the door to the store, I saw my mom’s head poke up from behind the counter, with a slightly opened muzzle. I trotted in with my neck a little straighter than usual.

“You’re either home really early, or the street lights got a serious upgrade,” Mom said with a yawn.

“It’s the first one,” I said a little distractedly, as I got to the hoof of the stairs.

“You seem like you’re in a hurry, Rose?” She asked as she blinked herself awake.

“I-I’m going out to meet someone,” I said as I took off up the stairs. I dropped my bags on my bed and ran into the bathroom, before checking my watch. Seven O’ clock. No time to shower. Shit. I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror, my mane was messed up. Was it too long? Did I need to dye it? No, she wanted to meet you out there as is, the only difference was nixing the doctor's coat.

Now my mane was managed, mostly. I hopped out of the bathroom and right into mom. “Got your mane brushed, and time off. Who is this pony?”

“I ran into her at the market a couple of days ago,” I told her quickly.

“Oh, that’s nice, what’s her name? What does she do?” She asked with a grin spreading across her face.

“Bajada, she does work out in the outposts. She’s here for a while though, so she asked if I wanted to get dinner,” I spurted out, before looking down at my left foreleg, and the tarnished watch strapped to it.

“Well, you could have had her come here. I make a mean turnip casserole, as you know.” she lowered herself conspicuously.

“I know, I just wanted to meet on, neutral ground. Maybe next time, Mom,” I said with a cringe. She was going to guilt trip me every time she could into bringing Bajada here. If she even wanted to have anything to do with me in the first place, nevermind the second. I shook my head and looked at Page. “I’ve got to go.” I said while pushing myself through the narrow space between her and the doorway.

“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to! And keep your drink covered!” She yelled to me as I practically slide down the stairs.

“I’m not a foal, just, I’ll be fine.” I said as I ran out the door, hearing the bell ding just as the door shut behind me.

I didn’t like all the eyes on me. As I sat at the bar, I kept my eyes on the liquor and the battered hardwood under my forehooves. My little bag of bits hung from my neck. I had half a pint of the house stout in front of me, the other half was sitting in my stomach. Probably should have eaten something bigger than a slice of bread and lettuce. Nah, I could look ponies in the eyes when I had a few in me.

“Ahh,” I yelped as I felt a hoof on my shoulder, my head swung over to the pony-

“You started without me, that’s not very chivalrous,” Bajada said before calling the bar pony over.

“I-I wasn’t sure that you would show up,” I answered as she locked her eyes on shelf in front of her. As the bartender walked over I took a look at the room, half the stallions and lot of the mares had their eyes on her. The small mare had worn her Ranger coat, chevrons and all. A few of them caught my eyes and shot me dirty looks. I turned around real fast.

“Yeah, double straight,” She told the stallion as he dumped whisky into her glass.

“Have you eaten today?” I asked her as she picked up the glass.

“Yeah, lettuce and egg sandwich, ate one for lunch,” she finished just before downing the shot and banging the glass on the counter. “Another!” She yelled at the bar pony.

“So, the weather’s nice,” I said. She watched the bar pony intently as he poured.

“Not too many sandstorms around here,” she said before downing the shot. “So, you wanna go out and eat?”

“If you want to?” My eyes latched onto the mare in front of me, she blew a breath of drink infused air towards me.

“I do,” She said before looking at the bar pony and dropping a silver piece on the counter. “That’s for me and him,” she then looked at the quarter full mug in front of me. I took the hint and downed it quickly. I looked at her for a moment as she watched me.

“What-” I said before a plume of hoppy air forced itself out of my muzzle.

“So, you just go there to ‘pregame’?” I asked her as we were sitting down in a little restaurant nearby. In front of me was another mug of ale, in front of her was a glass of red wine.

“I just like walking in like I own the place, I mean, if I’m not starting a fight in there that night, the owner loves me,” she said slyly before shoving a bit of salad into her mouth. Why anyone would want a dairy based dressing, I just, didn’t understand.

“R-right,” I said before taking a big bite.

“So, what do you do when you’re not telling ponies to stop being fat and shit?” She said leaning back and putting her forelegs behind her head.

She stared at me as I took a moment to chew and swallow, looking down at my plate mostly. “Sometimes I run my mother’s shop when she’s away,” I told her quietly.

“Oh, C’mon you can’t be this boring, I know your type, you’ve always got something interesting deep down.” She said with a laugh and a snort. She was right, I was a boring stallion, I lived with a parent, and basically read in all of my free time. Then again, I had picked up that one book recently…

“I mean, I came across a book of spells a week ago.” I told her while keeping my eyes on hers for once.

“Oh really, what spells were they? I almost forgot you were a horn head.”

“Memory spells,” I said quietly before eating another bite of food, I watched her eyes widen.

“How the fuck did you get that? That’s primo-illegal shit!” She said before covering her own muzzle with a hoof before looking around at the mostly empty restaurant.

“I didn’t know that,” I yelled at her quietly, my voice going up an octave as my brain went into panic mode. “Some stallion just gave it to me as a trade,” I said as I took a turn to look frantically to see if anyone had heard me.

She leaned forward over the table and brought her muzzle near mine. I flushed at how close she had gotten, just before she put her muzzle near my ear. “I think we’re okay, but you wanna finish this food and go somewhere private?” I nodded just before she whispered a few more words. “I fucking knew it.” Just before she got back into her booth she left a quick kiss on my cheek.

Yep, now my brain was freaking the fuck out. Now my cheeks were more red rose than pink rose, and I wasn’t sure what she wanted to get me alone for. Did she just wanna warn me about the crime I didn’t know I was committing, or did she want a quick fuck from an awkward stallion. “I’ll pay,” I said before pulling out some coins and leaving them on the table.

“Forty percent, you really wanna sleep with me don’t ya?” She said with a smile, where I was starting to sweat bullets… she was already back to teasing me.

“No, I just can’t do math when I’m nervous.” I said before pushing myself out of the chair and trotting out.

When I hit the doorway I looked behind me, she was following me. I knew a block away was the city’s big park. I wasn’t familiar with it, but I remember that it was open at all hours. Remembered from back when I was in school. Lot’s of other ponies had spent time with each other there.

“Where do you wanna go, bad buck?” She asked me with a chuckle as she pulled up beside me. With a flourish she put her right foreleg over my shoulder and pulled herself more onto her hind legs before waving her other foreleg across my field of vision, seeming to point at everything out there. “The world is your oyster,” she said before I shook her off.

“Y-yeah, and you’re the irritating grain of sand,” I told her with my eyes aimed at the street. “So, the park?”

“You don’t wanna bring a tipsy mare back to your place?” Her eyes bored into mine, and she brought her muzzle near mine. I could smell the alcohol in her breath, that and the vinegar dressing.

“No, no, I just don’t want to bother with introductions tonight.” I told her before turning towards the park again. Just as I did this she ran around me and put herself right in front of me.

“C’mon, your roommate has to love me? Or is it you’re afraid of being close to me and a bed?” She asked me with her tail flicking back and forth behind her. I was just tall enough to see the curve of her rear from over her head. Damn.

“Baja, you’re a pretty mare. I don’t know what you see in me. But, I don’t want to mess things up by bringing you home tonight. Please, another time,” I told her before dipping my head and resting it on hers.

“Whatever you’re hiding can’t be that bad, I already know about the other thing. And I’d put money on you being a virgin...”

“I still live with my mother, alright. I don’t want to bring you home to her, I already lied to her about who you are. She doesn’t like soldiers,” I told her simply. My mouth had dried up. All I wanted to do was go home and forget that this mare ever talked to me, ever showed an iota of interest in me. Ever even existed. Now I waited for her to say I was pathetic, to leave a bitter memory. That didn’t happen. She just stood there for a moment, breathing deeply. Her soft mane didn’t move from under my chin.

“The park it is,” she said before pulling away from me. I stood there watching as she turned away, before looking back at me. “I’m gonna ask questions, you better give me the answers,” I nodded at her.

“So this fucker hasn’t shown up yet? He just gave you the book and that was it?”

She said as we walked the deserted park, the moon sat high in the sky watching us like a half-lidded eye. The park smelled earthy, cicadas and crickets chirped, and the hint of salt in the air made it feel like it always had.

“Why is this magic illegal, he told me I could use to help ponies.” My voice stayed low, hers got louder when she got excited. “Take away the memories that hurt them, give them a little bit of blank space for their brains to fill in with something else. I read about it before I even got the book. Confabulation. When your brain makes up some explanation of events, way off from what happened, because brains are really flexible.”

“I’ve heard stories about ponies that got their memories taken, they came out different. Wrong.” She shook her head, her eyes shut for a moment.

“And, when I cut out an appendix that’s swollen and about to fill a pony's chest cavity with bacteria that changes them too. They don’t die. A scalpel is a knife, only when it’s in the right hooves it can heal instead of hurt. If I thought I was going to hurt ponies I never would have picked it up.”

“That’s a lot of confidence, for you,” she said after a breathless second.

“I doubt just about everything, but I don’t think I’ll ever be a bad person. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone, if there was any other choice,” I told her, my eyes opened widely. My chest filled with air, and my body was tingling with anger.

“You really don’t like the idea of hurting ponies, do you?” She asked with her eyes staring into mine. She looked tired.

“It makes me feel sick, I have respect for ponies that can fight for a cause, but, I…” My head shifted towards the cobblestone path we were walking on.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re being honest with me, not many stallions admit to not wanting to fight. Especially to a Desert Ranger.

“I’m not most stallions. I’m Rosetta, and I’ve learned to live as Rosetta. For better or for worse,” I told her slowly, the emotion and my energy draining out of me. Telling people how I feel has always exhausted me in a way that other things didn’t. Run a mile, I can do it, lift a box with Telekinesis… But, tell someone something I don’t think they want to hear? That will leave me feeling used up for days.

“Yeah, I’m Bajada, and I drink, and sometimes I shoot scorpions and bandits.”

“It’s better than drinking scorpions and shooting drinks,” I chuckled softly. My lips curled into a smile as I met her eyes again, this time, with something approaching familiarity. I felt less awkward around her now. Less uncomfortable, not comfortable.

“I tried that once. Had to have someone inject anti-venom into my ass.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. She looked at me before pushing her muzzle into mine. After a moment, I opened my mouth and threw a leg around her neck hesitantly. She did the same in one practiced motion.

A few seconds later she pulled back and looked at me. “Don’t read too much into that, I don’t pretend to have a good grasp of what I’m feeling at any given time.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” I said to her, still holding her close.

“Neither do I,” she said before moving in to kiss me again. I turned my head and kissed her cheek. “Alright, you’re that kinda buck too…” I dropped my foreleg back to the ground. She did the same.

“I don’t know how to respond to this,” I said to her, my voice now flat. She chuckled. The kind of laugh you make when you’re worried someone’s going to ask a question you can’t answer. “I need time Baja. I don’t know if you have that time, or the patience. ”

“No one has time, not really. I don’t want anyone to be lonely-”

“I think I want you, I just don’t know if it’s anything more than a sexual attraction. I don’t just want to fuck you and pretend like I’m okay with it meaning nothing,” I said to her.

“I–okay, I’ll give you a couple days. If you still aren’t sure, then that’s that,” she told me with a shrug.

Maybe that was fine. Wasn’t I worth more than a few days? Was I being the weird one, the one that most people would give a body part to be in the place of? Then again, the idea of me rejecting sex early on would have been alien to me, except for the fact that I liked this mare.

“I’ll show you where I live,” I told her before leading her away.

“And that’s why you don’t try to fry a scorpion with kerosene,” she told me as we rounded the last corner. My home was just a few meters away. The stories she told me were insane, camel spiders, giant scorpions and a pack of camels that they had ran into out there.

“I never would have known that if you hadn’t have told me. They scream and run at you, because the water in their bodies boil and escape…”

“Like a teapot with a stinger, basically,” she told me before bumping me with a foreleg. “You look nervous, is this the place?”

“Y-yes. You can come by tomorrow, if you want. I’ll be home by seven,” I said before moving towards the door I had used so many times. “Or the day after that.” My voice shorted out as she moved up to me. I froze.

“I walked you home, c’mon, don’t you owe me a goodnight kiss or something cheesy like that?”

I looked at her for a moment, she was smirking at me. A second later her cheek was a wet, surprise written on her face, and I was running towards my door, opening it with my magic. “Good night!” I yelled before slamming the door behind me.

Okay, I still wanted to sleep with her, and the fact that she’d still be out there for a few seconds was eating at my will power.

No, I could wait. I wanted someone who loved me, and who I loved. If I had to wait… I could. I turned around and made my way towards the stairs.

I lay in bed for long time, waiting for my brain to stop spinning and my dick to shut up about a missed opportunity. In a dark room, it’s hard to tell how much time has passed. There are no markers, no changes other than the thoughts in your head and the rhythm of breath. In those moments, everything seems the same, nothing seems to pass. Time is change. When there is no change, there is no time.

She was right. I didn’t feel like I had time. Because other than superficial changes, the way things went from one month to the next was identical. Same routine.

It had been this way ever since I had left school. I had all the time in world, if you looked at the calendar, or the aging that went on within me. But… that meant nothing for fixing my problems.

Mom was spending time at a friends flat with Dally, and I was waiting for Bajada to knock on the door. Stir fry was my favourite, and well, if I could do anything it was getting good at exactly one thing.

I finished and plated two servings. Feeding ponies always helped me feel better.

My eyes hovered over the plates, the chunks of tempeh and the broccoli heads popped out of noodles. The little thin bits of carrot were mostly garnish, but a little bit orange gave the dish a contrast that it was otherwise lacking. Was I just her garnish, some pet project, something to keep her occupied.

I shook my head and put a glass of water to my lips. My breath was steady where the rest of me was shaking. I had spent the day at the clinic thinking of how this might play out. And what I wanted out of it. Mildew told me a long time ago, that ponies always had an angle. He didn’t believe in good intentions for anyone but family. Mildew didn’t think that that really counted, a child of yours or a mate would always be helping to carry on some part of you. You could help them out and it would be nothing more than helping yourself. Everything else was angled in some way…

I hadn’t believed him at the time. I stopped tossing and turning last night after I admitted to myself: he might be right.

Every interaction was just a way to get what you wanted. Every happy one was just both ponies using the other successfully. He believed it. Maybe he was right.

The knock on the door jolted me into swallowing what was in my mouth, before setting it down and rushing to the door. I stood in front of it for a second as I undid the deadbolt with a little telekinesis.

She swung the door open instantly and poured inside the door. Baja didn’t even seem to think about the hind leg kick that sealed the door behind her. I let my eyes drift to the neon sign that hung down from the rafters, it was dim. And the last bits of spring sun were peppering the floor underneath the single large window to the right of the door.

“Rosey, I think that book problem is worse than I imagined,” Bajada said to me before wrinkling her nose and shooting me a look of delight. “That actually smells good! Most stallions burn grilled cheese sandwiches and call that a meal.”

“Uhh, follow me,” I told her as I spun around and led her up the stairs.

“Cozy place, is it just you and your momma?” she asked me as we climbed the stairs.

“Yes, except my mom’s best friend lives with us.” My words ambled out, was she going to think that was weird?

“Cool, cool, so what did you cook me? I’m warning you in advance, I can eat a fuckload if I want to.” As we made our way into the kitchen she eyed the food before looking back at me. “That was an innuendo, if you were wondering.”

“G-good to know,” I forced out. Was it getting warm in here or was it just me?

She walked over to one of the plates and grabbed it with her mouth.

“Wearsh da table?” I pointed a hoof towards the dining room, which was even closer to my room. My bed.

“I-I would have picked it up for you,” I said as she laid hers on the table in front of her. My plate was suspended in front of me as I walked over to the table.

“I wanted to see if you actually cleaned your plates, being unicorns and all,” she said as she poked at one of the larger pieces of tempeh with a fork.

I sat down across from her and got a good sized chunk of broccoli on my fork.

“So, I’ve thought a lot today, and last night,” I said before throwing the food into my mouth.

"I don't know what you want out of me, but now I think what I want out of you," I told Baja. "I need a change of pace. Everything is the same. But, you telling me about your adventures is liberating. I like you for a lot of reasons," I rambled out.

“If you want to get of here... I can hook you up," she told me before swallowing a bunch of noodles. "Really, you're in a better position than most. You got a skill, and you don't seem to mind a little isolation.”

“What are you-”

“Out there on the frontier, there’s a little place called Copper Springs. They need a doctor bad, our medics have been doing the job for the time being, but if we have to move…” She shifted her body.

“I don’t even have my certificate yet, I’ve only been training for a year and a half now,” I think that my voice had desperation in it.

“From what you’ve told me and me finding you alone in the office that’s supposed to be ran by Mildew, I think you can pass the exam,” She said before chewing her tempeh. “This is fucking good, by the way.”

“So, pass the exam, get my certification and just leave for a while?” I asked her while biting the inside of my mouth.

“I’m not really an expert on the health care system, but that sounds right?” For a moment her fork stopped moving. Her mouth opened and she rubbed her chin with her other hoof. “Yeah, try that!”

“A-alright,” I said before taking a bite. “That’s a plan.”

I said before I watched her cheeks bulge out from all the noodles she had just stuffed inside her mouth. I basically did the same until the food was out of sight.

We were laying in my bed, crammed against one another, and I was looking at the ceiling. My dick was laying low after his performance, but I kinda wanted another go, the first one had been a little short. Then again, I had gone down on her without her asking, and I didn’t think she had faked her getting off. The taste was kinda weird, vagina and semen all mixed together. Maybe you were supposed to go down on her before you actually fucked?

“Rosey, I heard something a long time ago, and it’s been true every time it needed to be,” she said to me with some resignation in her voice.

“What is it?” I asked before laying a foreleg over her barrel and turning to the side, I was looking in her eyes again.

“No plan survives first contact with the enemy.”

“What do you mean?” I said with a yawn, okay I was a little tired after our fun.

“Why do you wanna leave? You don’t need to have a reason. That’d be fine. but I know you do.” Her voice was warmer than usual.

“I just feel trapped, I know that I’ll be practicing and helping ponies out soon, but, everything just wears me down. It’s always the same. Sometimes I might get a good story…”

“Oh, you’ve got the wandering in your bones. I know the type, I am the type. You can’t stand being in the same place, living the same exact days over and over.” She blew some air in my face.

“I think my dad had it too. He was a Ranger, he just disappeared before I was born. I think that’s why my mom always kept me close. Now though, I can’t fucking stand it. If I live here she’ll always be over my shoulder. Commenting on who I’m with or what I’m doing. I’ll always be second guessing if it’s my decision based on what I want, or if I’m just doing what my mom wants me to do. This thing with you, this whole idea of leaving, is it just me telling her to fuck off?” Somehow I had started crying. “Is everything I fucking do a response to her feelings? What she told me to do?” I had closed my eyes. On my shoulder I could feel a foreleg rest there and a gentle nudge of her cheek on mine.

“I don’t know what kind of wandering you have inside of you,” Bajada said to me. “It might be the kind where you just get an itch if you stay in the same place for too long, with the same people. I have that. The Rangers let me scratch that itch, and get a paycheck. But you, it might just be you want something you don’t have here, or need to run away from something. Maybe when that happens you’ll be happy and you can live wherever, do whatever you love doing.”

I kissed her, and let my foreleg wrap around her. Her lips opened and I felt better for a moment. My penis decided that all of my problems could be pushed forward with just a little more pushing and pulling. My brain wanted to continue and my so did my cock, but I knew this wasn’t the end. I’d be selling myself short if I left it as it was. I was going to get a little more feedback, then have sex again! Compromise!

“So, I should go? If I can?” I asked while she threw my hooves off of her before lifting herself up and over me.

“All I can tell you without guessing my ass off is, if you stay here for me, it isn’t gonna work out like that.” Bajada grabbed my forehooves and one at a time pressed them against her hips before lowering herself against me. I moaned and ground myself against her. Other than a growl from her nothing happened for a second as I fumbled with my magic to align myself. How earth ponies aimed themselves… Like how did evolution?

“Are you leaving soon?” I asked just as she slammed herself onto me and her tongue lolled forward. My eyes shut as we just took in the feeling for a moment.

“Yeah,” Bajada said to me as she picked her hips up and dropped them.

“I think I like you,” I said to her as she looked at me with lidded eyes and a smile.

“Whenever I roll into town, I’d be down for this!” She yelled before giving me a peck on the cheek.

“That’s-” I started and finished saying as she hilted herself on me and made me smack her ass. Okay, I’ll talk later!

That didn’t happen. What did happen was a happy enough ending for one of us, and a warm sleep. By the time I remembered the question I was pretty sure of the answer. That was good enough. I could accept giving a part of myself to this beautiful mare, her having given me a plan. Or the most important part of a plan: the goal.

A month later she left town, went out to meet her unit on the frontier. I said that I would keep in touch, like a lot of people do. She agreed, like a lot of people do. We sent a letter or two to each other. I had sent it. She replied and asked for me to tell where I ended up.

About that: I made my first attempt at the exam and failed by a couple questions, just after she left. The ponies running the test didn’t switch out the test questions more than once a year. But, you had to wait some months before you could take it again… And you couldn’t write down the questions while you were taking it, right?

I decided that passing was worth the cost of self-experimentation. All it took was me recording my memories of the test and replaying the memory a dozen times. It was a lot faster to learn the answers to those questions than to learn all the potential answers… I mean, I wasn’t that far from passing the first time.

By the time I took the test the second time, I could recite the answers to every question on that test in my sleep. I passed. That night, I told her.

We had just finished eating, and Dally was already running water over the pots. I had cooked that night, made my favourite soup. Mom was sitting in the chair a little less lucid than usual; really, the soup was her favourite as well. We both loved mushrooms to the point that it was a personal weakness.

“So, I heard from a friend of mine that you were at the medical office today. Were you checking on something?” she asked with that prying curiousity that irked me.

“No,” I said quietly. I had decided that I was going to tell her about my plans soon. I just–just–didn’t want to right then.

“What were you doing then? You usually don’t wander around for no reason,” She said questioningly. I just picked up my bowl and hers and took them into the kitchen. Page followed me into the kitchen. I passed the bowls to Dally and turned to face my mother.

“I took the Doctor's competency test today. I know I passed.” My voice had a hard edge to it, my jaw muscles locking in place. Chemicals were flowing all over my body, my heart was beating like a steel drum and I couldn’t help but feel that this was the end of something.

“That’s wonderful! Are you going to work at Mildew’s practice or some other place? Or do you not know yet?”

“I asked to be posted in Copper Springs,” I let my expression harden. I couldn’t back down now.

“What?” Her voice was low, shocked. Dalliance looked me in the eyes. I had told her about who Bajada really was. And now she had connected the dots.

“No one wanted that position, those ponies need help.” I looked down as I used the excuse I had prepared. A refuge in altruism. That was me, not willing to look my own mother in the eye.

“When were you planning on telling me?” Her voice cracked as she started tearing up.

“Sometime tonight, or tomorrow night,” I said, my voice staying steady. Cold. A part of me felt like I was twisting a knife in her. Another wanted nothing more than a smirk on my muscle and a feeling of victory. They fought it out, and I was left on the course I had sought.

“And that’s it! Just drop a bomb on me, on your own mother?” I let her speak. “This is just, so far from…”

“What you expected out of me. You never really minded me becoming a doctor. Never minded me being with a random mare who wandered into my life and left just as quickly. I’ve lived in your box, or looked like I was my entire life. Mom, I’ve been drinking. That mare was a desert ranger who just wanted to use me for sex, I was an interesting lay, a little virgin buck who never left his room.” I stopped and shut my eyes tightly. Crying wouldn’t help me, nothing but leaving would.

“You’re going to leave me? Do you even know for how long?” Page asked me suddenly, anger burning through her tears. This was the mother I knew, the one I loved with reservations. The perfect mother, with an asterisk digging into the perfect like a tight collar digs into a dog's throat..

“At least two years, with some holidays and time back in Paradise.” My eyes met hers before continuing. “It was either this way, or no warning at all.” Somehow my legs knew to carry me forward. I wrapped my forelegs around my mother. I looked down at her. At some point in our years together I had gotten taller than her. Somehow this moment made us aware of that. “I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, mom. This is something that I have to do.”

“No one has to do-” she started, between tears. Her diaphragm was contracting, and it made her studder in a way that she never did.

“I–I just, don’t make it harder for either of us. I don’t think I’ll be leaving tomorrow. It’ll be a few weeks, probably.” I said as I grasped for something that would stop her from crying, and let me go. This was the best thing I had. Her tears continued even as I let her go, and walked to into my bedroom. I shut the door hard and fought back my own tears. I threw open my dresser and pulled the bottle wrapped in brown paper to my mouth as I opened the door to my bathroom. I turned the tap on with a hoof and threw the shower curtain open. The cap loosened as my pink magic tore at it like an annoying bolt that needed removing. I stepped into the shower and pushed the bottle back as I opened the tap with a second pulse of telekinesis.

Both liquids hit me at the same time. The cold spray shocked, while the vodka burned my throat, it was like two different persons… The warmth inside, the desire to fight, to change and make a difference… The cold outside, the day to day glances, the sameness of the everyday, the feelings of meaninglessness. It felt unstable. With a huff and a cough I pushed the bottle out of the way. I opened my eyes and shoved my face under the tap. Everything was simmering. The day to day, the cold would pound me into the shape it wanted out of me. I wouldn’t let the outside world bend me into just another part of the whole, the same sickened whole.

I turned the tap to warm and felt my strength return, the bottle floating back over to me. For what it was worth, for what I was worth, I was going to be who I was, and I was going to make the world better at the same time. Most of all, I was going to finding out who I was without this place, and my mother shadowing me.

As I finished the bottle and felt the first tendrils of alcohol slowly seeping into my system, I pulled the curtain, dried off, and ambled to my bed like I was starting to weigh a lot more.

I lay in bed for just a few minutes before the content nothingness of alcohol-aided sleep took me. It wouldn’t be much longer before I was on my own. Before I found out who I was. The other questions that had been in my head recently, or forever, they drew away as my new life came into fruition.

Recoil, Reciprocation and Renascence (IX)

The sun had set hours ago. According to the clock on the computation machine it was approaching dawn. There was ample light for most purposes, plenty to aid a march. Every touch of wind across my body forced me to reminisce. When I first arrived, the only atmosphere I felt was decidedly artificial. Beyond that, my first breath of fresh air on this world had been arid and lung searing. That had been three days after my arrival. I had yet to feel the desert night. Somehow, it felt like home. If I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, I could pretend I was back in Maidenpool. Just enjoying a solitary moment. Better days, I thought to myself. Less complicated days, without gravity, days where all that mattered was understanding a maths problem, or memorizing the facts from a long ago battle. Where I could revel in the warmth of the hearth-
“If you don’t have any objections, I think I’ve found a good spot for us to stop,” the mare ahead yelled to me. She pointed with an off-white leg at a dip between several large dunes. We would be out of the line of sight for anyone not looking from directly above us.
“Good thinking!” I yelled back at her. My voice must have been surprising to her. Perhaps the slight lilt to it caught Icepick off guard.
“Thanks,” she said after staring at me though her inequine helmet. My eyes remained locked forward. We walked into the divot. At the bottom she cocked her head at me. “You did grab a tarp and a bed roll in all of that looting, right?” she asked me suddenly.
“Along with many other things I appropriated,” I answered before looking at her metallic form, a lovely silhouette cast by the moonlight. Surprisingly, their moon was identical to ours. “So, how would you suggest we make camp?”
“Well, usually when I’ve done this in the past we’d take two sets of armour, clamshell them, and drape tarps over top with a gap between the bottom of the tarp and the sand.” she explained to me as she shifted her stance. Her shoulders seemed to hunch as she straightened her neck out. With a hoof, she took hold of her helmet and turned it about 45˚degrees before pulling it off of her head.
It was her. That blonde mare from the dreams. Her name and demeanour were already telling, but this – This was the image I remembered. Stuck the following morning in a way that just doesn’t typically happen with dreams. Every time I would wake up from them, all but detailed aspects would wash away. Unless this mare appeared in them. Every time she would look upon a mirror with levity written across her face, or the weight of the world showing in her eyes. Seeing her in the flesh was queer, even in the greys of a waning moon before dawn.
“Is there something in my teeth or what?” she asked me after a moment had passed. Out of her passed a single chuckle, with one pulse of air exiting her nose as it happened.
“Not that I can tell,” I chuckled, “But, we have only your set of armour.”
She then stood stock still and said, “We’ve got rope, and at least two things we can stick in the ground.” I heard the machinery in her armour activate. After a few seconds the armour opened up and she had backed out of it.

She was still large. When she turned to face me our eyes were level. I could make out she was wearing a sort of undersuit as well.

“Good idea,” I said to her simply. I was still wrapping my head around the idea of being around this mare.

“I have those on occasion,” she said as she turned around to rifle through the bags she had attached to the exo-skeleton.

“So drew you to the big desert?” she asked with her rear pointed at me. I needed to sell my cover story to this mare.

“Personal advancement and general curiosity,” I answered as I pulled a large spoon and a bayonet from my bags. They made good tent stakes in a pinch.

“I can kinda understand the curiosity part, but how would you advance personally? Would you get promoted or something?” She was putting an end of the tarp over top the shell of armour, securing it and bending herself over the piece. I let my eyes roam over her body covered in the skin-tight suit that made her rump pop out. This mare was not only extremely attractive but seemed to be host to innumerable strange ideas.
“My dear, the society I come from has a military. However, the fundamental structure isn’t a martial one. My personal advancement would come from knowing things others would not. And from being able to capitalize on that knowledge. And even then, the notoriety wouldn’t be valuable on its own.” I said before chuckling lightly. Her expressions had gone from confused to very confused while I had been talking.
“If I may ask: is everypony in your society a part of a military organisation?” I asked. You were always a charmer Permittivity, of stallions and mares. Though this one could triumph in a contest of hooficuffs with all the stallions I knew, excluding-
“Everypony who’s an equestrian is a Ranger,” Icepick answered, “Even if they’re a janitor, or a teacher.” a bemused expression crossing her lips once more. “So, you’re like Arabians then, you have a chief or something?” she asked me suddenly. I had just attached the corners of the tarp to the stakes.

“Not exactly, we’re lead by a monarch, somepony who can look at the nation as a whole and make honourable long term decisions. However, every pony elects representatives to parliament to draft legislation and take on various functions of governance.” I explained to her the basis of governance in the Empire, hoping that the honesty in my voice would win her over. Though, now that I thought about it, was Sombra going to leave parliament and the rights of a subject intact?

“So, you have a princess like Celestia and Luna?” she asked incredulously. Upon hearing those names I had to steel myself. The Arabians had told me that these warriors were from Equestria, originally. So, they were Celestians. Of a sort.
“Not quite. They’re normal unicorns like me.” This was half true. Sombra had declared that only unicorns of pure blood could hold what had been his throne.
“So, how do you ‘advance’ then?” she asked me as I finished with the stakes.
“I might sell a book about my adventures, which I’m sure to have with you around,” I responded quickly, trying to avoid this topic of conversation. With a start I pointed my eyes at the sky. Some of the constellations were shifted ever so slightly. Was that strange or comforting? What was this world to me? “So, what do you want. How do you wish to advance?”
When I asked her this her eyes shifted downward.

“I’ll do what the Rangers need me to do. I’ll probably get my implant removed for about a year, and have a foal for them,” she paused, “And then, I’ll try to make paladin. Providing a foal for the Rangers will bump up my rank.” Her voice seemed choked, yet at the same time it welled with deliberation.

“What do you mean, a foal for the Rangers? Are you hoping to find a stallion to marry?” I asked, confounded yet again.

“The fuck you talking about? Rangers don’t marry. Only those backwards fucking natives marry.” she hissed at me before lifting a side of the makeshift dwelling. She pulled a bedroll from her back and threw it haphazardly inside.

I gave her a moment as I unbuckled both my bedroll and my saddlebags. I took my bedroll, stooping over as I went inside. It was dark in there, and there was a definite lack of volume. I saw that she had laid hers out parallel to her armour, giving me just enough room to lay mine down in the leftover space. The rest of my clothing fell to the floor, my bags held off in the corner just beyond my tail and hind legs. With a sigh, I set myself down on my makeshift bed. Her bedroll was perhaps ten centimeters from mine. I lit my horn for a moment while I fiddled with the blanket layers.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now, with us being under the tarp.” she said before turning herself over. She eyed my bedroll and the nominal distance between us. At this point I had found the blanket that I wanted, and was about to shimmy under it, when she said, “That gap is a fucking joke. You’re gonna have your ass pressed against the tent when you settle in,” before pulling herself up until she was almost standing. I gave her an odd look before she bit my bedding and dragged it towards her. When it slightly overlapped hers she spat it out. Then she looked at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Her eyes locked on mine, and after a second she began to laugh too.
“Life is absurd, Icepick. Though that was probably the most absurd thing to happen today,” I said to her when my laughing died down.

“No, the absurd thing was that hangfire. Seriously, what were the odds of that?”
“We would have to look the rate of that ammunitions failure. Did you see the speed at which he galloped out? His testicles must have been pulled into his barrel.”

“Tartarus yeah I did. Still would have been better to see that rifle shot go through his barrel,” she said with regret written across her muzzle. Her eyes were beautiful, with a glacial aspect showing through when the light from my horn danced across them. I drew my eyes away before she noticed.

“Thirsty?” I asked before pulling a water skin from my saddlebags. I had several, but I knew that this journey would be taxing even with ample hydration.

“And now you’re offering a mare a drink? I should have gotten us into bed earlier, then,” she said with a chuckle before grasping the offered skin with a hoof.

“Is this that surprising? I admit, maybe we didn’t get off on the right hoof initially, but have I been unpleasant?” I asked as she took a deep draw from the skin. As I spoke she nearly choked on the water. Icepick let the hoof with the skin fall down.

“It was a joke, to cut tension. And if that was a legitimate question… I mean, I’ve dealt with worse ponies in better circumstances. I’m usually a pretty laid back mare, but being out here away from the Rangers, I-I don’t think I’m at my best. Shit, is anyone themselves when they’re away from the people they spend the most time with?”

“That’s comforting. I suppose you would be less brash and be more forbearing if you had others to keep in mind?” I said, before taking a swig from the skin myself.

“No, fuck no. That’s like asking if you’d be less of a know-it-all stallion that loves the sound of his own voice if you had someone from your barracks with you.” she said before laughing impetuously. She was uncivil where I had been nothing but– Then again, she had helped me get here and not shown any animus when it came to personal proximity…

“I’ll take that as an example and not a personal affront,” I chuckled before letting my horn die. The blankets under my body would hopefully insulate me from the cold sand underneath. The last few hours are quite cold, I reminded myself. “Perhaps you’re striking upon some greater truth. Sometimes we can only rise above ourselves when tasked with a greater purpose.”

“Yeah, an example,” she said before letting out an errant yawn. Magical exoskeleton or not, she was still a mare. Her yawns were just like her voice, lower than most mares but distinctly feminine. “That’s the thing, I’d do anything for the Rangers. Wade into bullets, fight giant scorpions, even tolerate egg heads. But, I don’t think that improves me, it just pushes me. It’s something else, I swear,” she finished wistfully. I turned my head towards the pseudo ceiling above our heads.

“You never knew your father or mother did you?” I asked softly.
“Every male Ranger is my father, and every female Ranger is my mother, my brothers and my sisters” she whispered.

“That’s a blessing and a curse, Icepick. Like everything else,” I murmured. At this time, I was becoming extremely conscious of the fact that we were perhaps just half a leg away from one another.

“Just go to sleep, egg head. And if don’t use my full name every time, aight? It’s Ice to most everypony,” she huffed before rolling over to face me in the near pitch black. Her forelegs were tucked up near her chest like mine were, a bag lying under her head.
“Have a good rest, Icey.” To which she merely snorted once. Soon after I heard a faint snoring emanating throughout our makeshift tent..

We made good time, rousing ourselves early in the morn, evenings spent travelling in the cloak of night. All the while, we made idle chit chat, and I revealed nothing that I couldn’t deflect later. She seemed to steer me away from anything personal or organisational. We truly told each other nothing.
On the third night…

“Hey, come look at this!” Icepick yelled to me from the top of dune. It was easier for her, getting up there; that magic armour was a definite advantage. She kept her eyes on me, that damnable visor giving nothing away, as I trotted up the hill. I hadn’t been working so hard to move since I had been in the service of the Empire! Although, now I was in the service of the greatest leader the Empire had ever known. So, as with everything else, everything was the same, and yet different… Strange. When I crested the dune, I looked ahead.

Light and structures caught my eyes, terribly novel to eyes that had seen only sand for so long. I spotted vague outlines of various buildings, including some terribly thin towers, all adorned with lights. One of them stood out from the rest, looking approximately a hundred metres in height. We had found our radio transmitter, and with a spark and flick of my horn, the female voice that I had heard nights ago came crackling through the sand filled speakers.

Icepick glanced at me through her tinted helmet, before turning back to the settlement on the horizon.

“That is a beautiful sight,” I said to her.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I love me some lightbulbs,” she said. She may have replied but her mind was elsewhere.

“Are you feeling alright?” I let my question hang for a moment, before taking a pull from a bottle.

“I wasn’t really sure if this was real,” she told me blankly. “I mean, they must’ve been here for as long as us, as long as your people, and we never found them.”

“Did you ever really look?” I replied simply, pawing at the ever present sand underneath me.

“No, everything equestrian on this continent except for us was supposed to have been wiped out or starved by the skydark.” Her head shook and I saw her start to remove her helmet before simply dropping it in her bag. “But, there they are.”

“Assumptions can blind anypony,” I let my words hang in the open air. I was only here because I assumed a great many things-

“Got any ideas bout’ how to approach a bunch of ponies that know nothin’ about you?” She gave me a half-hearted smile, I could see that much in the moonlight.

“Approach slowly ,of course. If you have weapons, keep them pointing away from anypony. At the very least, we can speak to them naturally, and they seem friendly enough.” My words seemed to whisk her smile away.

“Yeah, my weapons are kinda bolted to the side of my armour,” she snorted before shooting a glance at her side. The exposed machine gun was rather threatening.
Check that, very much so.

“Then just don’t wear it. You do, after all, have the ability to simply throw a tarp up over and disable it, correct?”

“I- … fuck, that’s not the way us Rangers do things, numbskull. We keep our guns on us in potential hostile territory” She huffed again as she kicked up dust in frustration

“I’m no expert in socialization my dear , but I think the machine gun is better left at the proverbial door.” I said, shooting her an understanding smile.
“These ponies probably have guns you idiot, and I really don’t wanna be shot full of holes. I mean, fuck, I don’t want to be armed with just a shitty-ass piddly pistol,” Icepick told me with exasperation, before giving me a pleading look.
“So, let me be clear. You don’t want to enter the settlement filled with ponies that have food and water, unless you get to carry your fort leveling weapon?”
“Shut up, I just don’t like going without my weapons, Rangers only go without if there are other Rangers around.”
“You told me that not that long ago, you went into a dangerous city multiple times without anything more than that undersuit, and your service pistol.” She snorted at me before moving closer to me. I did the same. Our chests were nearly pressing together as we looked each other in the eyes. Icepick cleared her throat before speaking.
“I don’t know how you know that,” she pressed a forehoof against my chest with some force. “I-I’ve done a lot of stupid shit recently, but now, I want to be prepared, I need to get your useless ass down south, and-” I grasped her hoof with my magic and lightly guided it to the ground. “I know that you’ve done just as much stupid shit as me, I can see it in your eyes. So, don’t fucking test me.”
“Pssh, you talk in your damnable sleep, all manner of lamentations, some curses about wanting a stallion more than he wants you, and desires for revenge for things done to those around you. I don’t want a fight, plainly. You’re a means to end, as I am to you. In this instance the only way to achieve our goal of resupply and hospitality is going to involve you leaving that part of you behind. That superiority you have to feel. These people could be allies, you recognize this! Yet, you clearly can’t accept meeting them on even terms!”
“Fuck you!” she said before stamping her hoof on my chest harder than last time.
“Come on, your death wish will thank me,” I said with a laugh before pushing closer to her. I could hear the servos in her armour click as it was pushed back by me.
“How did you ever get someone to fuck you?” she spat at me our faces only a few centimeters apart. Her breath was warm in the windy desert night.
“My sense of humour helps. I mean, not all of us have an eye candy ass.” I said to her.
“It’s fuckin’ nicer than your nasty face. Looks like you couldn’t snark yourself out of a butcher's’ knife,” Icepick spat out. I kept my face as close to granite as I could.
“You’re a fucking coward, soft from hiding in all that steel. You couldn’t face a fair fight without pissing yourself. That’s where I obtained these scars. I fought someone and they wounded me. I won though; I pushed and found a way to win. If you want some manner of respect from me, then face your fears. There aren’t Rangers here. I’m the closest thing to an ally that you have,” I finished with an edge to my voice. My face was red. There was spittle at the edge of my mouth.
For a moment all I could hear was the wind whistling. She sat on her armoured rump before opening her bag, she pulled an all too familiar paper tube out of a package.
“Celestia fuck, fine, just light this up with your horn,” I took a moment to glare a victory at her. The light from the moon only showed pain. My expression faltered. I had lashed out at her. She had lashed out at me. Somehow, she had decided to bury the matter. As I mulled the matter over Icepick tapped me on the shoulder with a foreleg.
“C’mon, I already know I’m the bigger pony, but this is pushing it.” Icepick said before letting out a sigh. “I’ll say sorry after you say sorry.” Then she snorted before looking away, towards the blinking lights of the settlement, so brazenly broadcasting music and information.
I sat down beside her. Our shoulders pressed into each other, at least, the armour we wore did. With a thought, I ignited the tip of her cigarette.
“Those are bad for your respiration,” I said simply. Icepick turned her head towards me.
“If I didn’t have a death wish, I wouldn’t smoke, would I?” Icepick said before laughing. “You know I’m not going to forget that you said I had a nice ass.”
“It’s merely an objective fact,” I retorted. This mare was insufferable.

“I don’t think word means what you think it means, but I appreciate a compliment.” Her voice was muted, she sounded exhausted. Then again, I was tired as well.

“Well, from a purely functional point of view your large hips would give you an advantage in successfully giving birth.” I let out quietly. She looked me in the eyes, before laughing harder than she had any right to, nearly ending up with her face in the sand. “I’m rolling my eyes at you, just for your information.”
“Celestia, you’re such an egghead. I’m gonna start pitching the tent, do you wanna help, horny?”
I swallowed a bit of anger at that. Being the only unicorn in your class will lead to ample taunting. You won the argument remember? She’s going to help you. And you know now that she’ll respond to reason.

We had decided to go into the settlement at noon the next day. Broad daylight is a peaceful way to announce your presence, correct?

The outskirts of the settlement wasn’t very far from the center. The radio towers and other heavier machinery, including railroad tracks were located about a kilometer from the center. The two us spotted the heady exhaust being emitted by heavy diesel generators… But, the majority of the town appeared to be concentrated within a few blocks running alongside a main avenue. There was no pavement, and the wood and brick buildings seemed almost mint. This place had not been here for very long.

Icepick didn’t seem to notice this or care. In her world there was very little that had any age to it. Nothing that she considered a part of her society.

We both walked with our weapons tucked away, my pistol was in one of my saddlebags, and my rifle was strapped to her armour. She was wearing one of the bags her armour normally beared. It was strange to see her walking about in the daylight with only that skin tight suit. My helmet and flak armour was also sitting beside her armour. Icepick had insisted on fairness. Fine. At least I wasn’t sweating through skin tight black fabric…

As we approached, perhaps half a kilometer from the first buildings a sentry spotted us. I threw a glance at Icepick, who glared at me. My shoulders seemed to shrug of their own accord. We slowed and waited for the pony to get to us. As they got close we had a chance to examine them, light clothing, breathable with a loose cap fit to keep the sun out of their eyes. The mare wielded a rifle in her magic. At about ten meters away she stopped, her fur was a light orange and her mane was a bronze hue.

“Who the hell are you folks? There ain’t supposed to be prospectors or surveyors around here!” she yelled at us while pointing the high caliber rifle at us.

“Travelers, looking for rest and succor!” I yelled back at her. The sun was behind us, and the ever present wind was picking up yet again.

“That’s a mighty nice, but you gotta give me more than that,” her voice betrayed vexation at our presence.

“We’re Equestrians just like you, just from farther south,” Icepick spoke up from beside me. “The zebras didn’t drop as many bombs on this continent as we thought they would!”

“I don’t know what you’re smoking out there, but they hit Paradise hard. We only made it because of the stables,” she yelled back. “There weren’t many ponies out here, how’d you survive the big freeze?”

“We had bunkers too, and stores. I’m a Steel Ranger, we were stationed next to the Gilache and the oil deposits!” She yelled back.

“I don’t understand, if yer a Ranger, where’s your big metal suit? And why are there only two of ya?” the mare asked, before watching Icepick glare at me again. I lowered my head for a moment. I had missed critical context, and a potential avenue for first contact.

“I mean, you’d be pretty freaked out if some random pony came waltzing into town wearing powered armour right?” she asked the orange mare. After a few seconds the rifle was, once again, slung over her back. The mare snorted and laughed for a moment.
“Alright, you two are pretty weird, but as long as you don’t do anything crazy, I’m gonna send you to the doc to get yourselves checked out. After that, you can go talk to the sheriff. She’s the one to ask about things, if you’re who you’re saying you are. I don’t get paid enough to deal with crazies wandering the desert, other than shooting at ‘em if they do anything funny.”
“I promise we come with peaceful intentions,” I said to her quickly.
“And you’d tell me anything different?” she said before snorting again. “Just, follow me and don’t wander off. When I hoof you off to the doc, you become his problem.” We both nodded at the mare. “Alright, both of you get in front of me, I don’t mean to get magiced from behind.”
“We can do that, what do you prefer to be called?” I asked the mare behind us.
“You need to learn how to talk right, I can barely understand you.” the mare said quickly, before pausing for a moment, like she was trying to parse my words. It was a simple question. What kind of simpleton can’t name themselves on the spot-
“I tell him that all the time, he just won’t listen.” Icepick spoke up while looking over her shoulder at the mare, a sigh left her lips a second later. “Stallions,” she finished.
“Yep, always so stubborn. Anyway, I think he was asking for my name: Copper Sunrise. And your’s, Miss Ranger?” the mare asked Icepick. It really shouldn’t have surprised me, Icepick had that aura of easy amiability. When she wasn’t wearing that suit she could connect on an interpersonal basis, quickly. Perhaps it was the lack of the armour, the friendliness as a defense mechanism? Or maybe she was always like this, barring some exceptions. In all of our interactions she had always kept a distance, a distrust. Most ponies I had come across held a general distrust of everypony. But, she seemed irritated by my every word, nearly…

“Icepick, and I, uh, left my armour outside of town. You think the sheriff will let me fetch it?”
“That’s gonna be up to the sheriff, so does your buck-friend have heat stroke or something?” the deputy asked Icepick, as I forged ahead, but remained within hearing distance as the two of them drifted closer. Mares. Celestians. I shook my head and kept my eyes on the settlement proper. We were only a few minutes trot from a building that had a large red cross emblazoned on it.
Icepick was silent for a moment, but I didn’t want to reveal my eavesdropping, so I could only wait for either of them to speak.
“No, he’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him. Still, that’s kinda up to the doctor,” Icepick said. I ground my lower lip between my teeth. I could make the both of them writhe in pain, the obsidian hanging from my neck would empower me to do that. Earth pony or not, you need a functioning nervous system to fight! No, I couldn’t do that. That would jeopardize everything.
My mind was so whirring away in thought that the building seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The stained wood planks of the entrance ramp echoing with my own hoofsteps brought me out of that reverie. In the streets some ponies stopped to stare at me like some kind of unwashed tramp. As I knocked on the wood with a hoof I realized that was what I had become. Battered duster with soiled white cloth wrapped around my head and barrel… At least to them. Soldiers at war are unwashed ponies wrapped in rags. These ponies just didn’t know they were at war yet. Or what war was.
The door swung open in a light pink haze of magic. In front of me was a pink coated unicorn stallion wearing a white lab coat. It showed signs of age. Our eyes met for a moment as we took one another in. His mane was red, his irises were nearly indigo, and under his eyes, bags hung visibly.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said before extending a hoof towards him. His eyes betrayed surprise. “I’m Permittivity.”
“That’s what we in the business call an understatement,” he said before meeting my hoof and giving a firm shake. “Now, are you bleeding anywhere, or feeling sick?”
I shook my head at him, just before I heard the vexing mare escorting us clear her throat.
“It’s just a check up for the both of ‘em; you know, ponies saying crazy things wandering the desert. Have fun,” she said before giving me a withering look.
“May I enter?” I asked quickly. I felt the gaze of Icepick behind me, she most likely wanted this over as quickly as possible.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he answered with a bemused expression on his face.
I slipped into the foyer, the smell of astringent and rubber in the air unsettled me. Behind me I could hear Icepick walking up the stairs to this place. For a short moment I felt as though I had been here before. I nearly jumped as I felt Icepick brush past me as she followed the doctor. She looked back at me as I stood there.
“C’mon horny, I don’t want you losing your head now,” she said.

“Right, I was merely taking in the moment, the first time I’ve been inside this society’s buildings,” I answered before moving my hooves, and following this mare into a larger room.

“It’s a building, not an art museum,” she said before starting towards the room once more. I shook my head. Hospitals.

The room he entered was filled with metal framed beds, with white sheets that radiated the bleaching they endured. Our examiner took a chair in front of the closest pair of beds.

“Please take a seat, you both look like you need it,” he said.

“As you wish,” I said before sitting on the firm mattress.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Icepick said before dropping her form onto the bed.

“So, you’re both probably happy to be in a place with food and water, but I have to answer some questions. Are either of you hurt?”

“I don’t know about him, but I’m feelin’ fine,” Icepick told the doctor casually. The stallion turned to look at me.

“I’ve had worse,” I said to him.

“You’ve both been sweating? No pounding headaches? No cramps?” the stallion asked, his head looking between the two of us. I was probably more pungent than her, seeping in my own juices.

“I know what heatstroke is. I live in a desert too,” Icepick told him.

“A-alright, well, you both seem sane? I’m just having a hard time believing that other equestrians survived… This is big,” the stallion said to us, a bemused expression across his face. “I’m sorry, my name is Rosetta, I’m the only doctor for about fifty miles.”

“My name is Icepick, and I’m the only Ranger for about four hundred.”
He gave her a strange look, once again. She had the ability baffle even the most astute individuals.

“Ranger?” he asked. Her voice was brusque, it had carried command and contempt; his voice was contemplative, it had carried kindness and sympathy.
“She’s referring to the Steel Rangers, if you were inquiring,” I told him simply.
“Right,” he said before drawing a deep breath. “So, if you didn’t know we existed, how did you find us?”
“We happened to receive some radio transmissions from here. It was chance.” I told the stallion quickly, hoping that I wouldn’t have to elaborate further. I had covered my ‘computer’ with my duster.
“Why were so far into the desert even before you heard the transmissions? Radio transmissions are limited by the curvature of Equis.”
“There was a mining site out there that could pass for a strip mine half it’s age. It just happened to be the location of an ambush-” Icepick said before I cut her off.
“It wasn’t an ambush,” I cut her off.

“Waiting in holes and waiting for us to split off doesn’t count as an ambush for you?!” She was glaring daggers at me.

“No, the Arabians weren’t expecting a Ranger convoy appearing off of the horizon. You have to remember that they use messengers on hoof to convey messages, the news of your expeditionary force wouldn’t have gotten to their until well after your arrival. When I was ushered deep into the tunnels, I didn’t know what was happening for some time. The gunfire alerted me. They were hiding.” I had only heard rumours about the way these Rangers conducted war. They were walking machine guns clad in steel, artillery and the more familiar tools of war utilized on these Natives. There is no honour in war, but we always took as good as we got. For the most part-

“And every time they sneak a bomb into a road, or carry a bomb on their body to kill Rangers? Are we supposed to give them a reprieve?” Icepick asked me, her eyes burning.

“So how long have you been married?” Rosetta asked suddenly.

Icepick cast a sidelong glance at him. I couldn’t help but laugh, as I realized that she didn’t understand.

“She doesn’t quite know what a marriage is, or what married couples are wont to do!” I barked out, as Rosetta gave her a questioning look.

“That isn’t an explanation, asshole,” she said to me. Rosetta just continued to watch Icepick grow ever more vexed as I chuckled.

“Old couples tend to fight a lot, so seeing as you both were fighting in front of a stranger who is also here to evaluate your mental health, it reminded me of some the -less than planned- marriage counseling I’ve done,” Rosetta said, only for her to mouth an aha, and smile at the pink stallion.

At that moment the front door swung open. Rosetta hopped to his hooves.
“Stay here, just make yourselves at home. There’s a faucet in the back corner,” he said to us before walking into the foyer. The door shut. We were alone once again.

“Why do you have to correct me on everything?” she askedas she sat on the bed across from mine.

“Because you are wrong so, so often,” I spoke quietly, compared to her normal volume. If we stayed quiet there was a chance that we could eavesdrop. But she would never think of that, she had the tact of a flaming cinder block thrown through a glass storefront. She stood up and walked towards me, when she got to within a third of meter she thrust her hoof forward and into my chest. I glared at her. She did the same.

“Do you wanna fight? I’m not in my cheater armour right now. Is that fucking fair enough for you?” Her nostrils were flared and her muscles were growing tense. Parts of her mane were plastered to her head, she was sweating like a pig under that tight fabric.
“That wouldn’t further our ends, now would it?” I said just before she pulled her foreleg back and kicked me in the jaw. I reeled backward as the pain hit me like aforementioned cinder block. She had pushed me onto my back, the bed under us squeaking loudly, she pushed a hoof against my muzzle as if daring me to respond. Her muzzle was just above mine. All I could think of was dreams where I had seen through those eyes. “You remind me of someone I once knew.”
Her muzzle betrayed confusion at my words. “He was also an Earth pony that never thought about the ramifications of his act-” And then she struck me again. A solid stomp to my chest…

“Celestia fuck, you don’t know how to shut up,” she said while watching me attempt to regain my breath. I looked at her before knocking her sideways with a bout of telekinesis. There was a clatter as she struck the wooden floor. I worked my body and sat up just as she pulled herself back to her hooves. “Fucking horn head, who’s the cheater now, can’t beat a mare-” she started before I dropped to all fours and swung at her. She deftly dodged me before taking a look at me.

“You may say whatever you like about my person, but don’t begin to belittle me for my race,” I said to her, my lips curling into a sneer. The nodule of bone and mana atop my head lit up. A minute arc of electricity travelled from the tip of my horn to the air inches from her muzzle.

“You know, one time I snapped a unicorn’s horn off? It sounded exactly like breaking a bone, except the screams were louder,” she said quietly, with a smile written across her muzzle.

And with that, the door swung open and Rosetta took a moment to comprehend what had gone on.

“Seriously? Fucking seriously?” he asked us, and seemingly some higher power before pointing to Icepick. “You’re first, go talk to the Sheriff,” he finished before letting out a sigh.

Icepick gave him a look of malice, before turning to me once again as she spun around. Her tail oscillated side to side as she exited the room. “We’ll settle this later. Just telling you in advance, try to be less of an asshole, as hard as that is for you.” She punctuated that with one last look at me. Her eyes gleamed hard in the moment, she was questioning me. Icepick knew something.

Then the door opened, she exited, and shut once again.

“Why?” Rosetta asked me as he closed the distance. I sat myself back onto the mattress, trying to not to wince as I moved. That mare was strong.

“We had a disagreement over manners,” I said as I drug my last water skin out.

“That was some kind of disagreement, most ponies I know don’t punch their friends over manners,” Rosetta said as I stood in front of me.

“We’re allies of convenience,” I told him as he peered at my face, likely-

“First off, how long have you known this mare?” Rosetta asked, quiet concern written across his muzzle. In other days that had been me. I gave a thought to the obsidian pressed against my coat. My goals were larger now.

“Five days,” I answered. That of course was a half truth. Everything I said was a half truth now.

“Why are you fighting with a mare that you barely know? What is there to fight about?” he asked before shaking his head and sighing once again.

“As I understand it, she, she has a blithe disregard of what she’s done, the acts she’s committed. There is no penitence. When I try to correct her, to improve her understanding of events she becomes irate,” I said to him. I was the picture of consternation, I couldn’t tell him how I knew these things.

“Alright, and you know how a person who’s done terrible things should act?” the doctor asked me again.

“Doctor, I apologize for bringing conflict into your town. I’ll be sure not to provoke her-”

“No, there are underlying issues there, Permittivity. But tell me what she’s done. And if you’re worried about the information being used to throw you back in the desert… It won’t happen, I won’t let it happen.” He had cut me off, but he was apologetic about it.
The best way to get someone to believe you in some other regard is to be candid in a trivial matter.

“She’s from an order of warriors. They use their might to enslave the Arabians, and with the smallest hint of rebellion, her order will demolish buildings and kill innocents that happen to be near the rebels. ‘Collateral damage’, these rangers call it. Icepick has the blood of may on her hooves. I could never endure warriors who wouldn’t acknowledge their own acts.” My words fell from my mouth, a torrent that wouldn’t abate. When it was said and done, I merely watched as his mind tried for an angle that would open my ears to his peaceable way of thinking.

“I see. Have you ever thought that she just displays her remorse differently than you? I myself try to make up for every hurt I’ve caused. Anyway, I don’t have that much time to talk right now, but you can find me here later tonight if you want someone who can listen. I can also cook. Just one question. Did you get those wounds recently?”

Did he just offer a dinner to me? Evaluate later.

“Around two months ago. Unlike her, I’ve fought fairly,” I paused. “Thank you Doctor, my life has been trying in that time.” Under my clothing the talisman grew colder. Dramatically colder. Without a thought I removed it from my clothing, letting it freely hang while Rosetta nodded at me.

“Obsidian, I’ve seen it once in person. Did someone give that to you?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, it was a gift.” I let it fall back under my clothing. “Doctor, I imagine you are going to broach the subject of our conflict to Icepick as well. When you do, just bear in mind, she can be a joy. As merry as any choir. Don’t let it fool you, she’s as empty inside as I am. She’s just better at hiding it, to others and herself. I’ve known her long enough to understand that.” My words curled my lips, his wisp of a smile died. His cross glance told me that he was one of those ponies that are convinced the world can be made better without blood and pain. “In any case, even if you have nothing to drink, I would like to talk to another honed mind.”

His eyes flashed in confusion. If he was going to offer a meal, then I would be damned not to accept. Flawed or not, he seemed genuine, and at that point, I would take any kind of genuine. Honesty by association. Sure.

“I-Uh, I’ve got a bottle of rum. Does drinking make you less gloomy?”

“Stranger things have happened.” Our eyes caught. I chuckled heartily.

The door opened and a burly stallion wearing a sun bleached hat glanced around the room before stopping on Rosetta. “Copper’s done with the mare, you can send him in.”

“Alright, thank you,” Rosetta said.

“Well, I take it that’s my queue,” I said as I pulled myself from the bed.

Icepick strode through the door, her head was lower than usual. Interrogation for her must have been tiresome.

For me, it was another opportunity to polish my cover story.

“She told us she was a soldier. Her getting separated from her unit, and making her way here makes a kind of sense. So, what are you?” Copper Jacket asked, he was standing beside the door, sitting in a dirty holster, the mouth grip of an automatic barely in view.

“I’ve served as a soldier, but I left as an explorer. It was random chance, and your radio transmissions that led us here.” I told him earnestly enough.

“Your friend told me that you’re from the western coast of Sall’han? What do plan on doing while you’re here?” The stallion asked with a straight face.

“She’s correct, we’re a modest place of about fifty thousand souls. Personally, I plan on writing notes, and getting to know your people. A book about your society and a viable trade corridor would be worth a great deal, so I intend to capitalize upon that.” I finished with a smile, the stallion was mulling over my words.

“I-I, I’m not really paid enough to deal with this kind of thing. Just, stay out of trouble, I’ll try to get a hold of somepony from the assembly. You don’t have money, do you?” The stallion said with exasperation.

“I have some precious metals, coins that the Arabians use as currency.” Or, at the very least, the higher ranking guards carried some.

“That, that’ll spend good.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I just never really expected ponies to come ambling from down south. I gotta say though, you seem more…” His lips pursed as he searched for a word that was more diplomatic. This stallion was diplomatic, and had a mind to be friendly.

“Adjusted,” I said with a smile. “Our societies are cut from similar cloth. You marry, you have individual enterprise, and ultimately, a way of life very different than the Rangers.”

“That’s a lot of hearsay, but, I’ll pass it along.” Copper told me with a pursed expression. He was chewing on his lip. “Anyway, you’re welcome to stay for a few days, seeing as the next train to Paradise isn’t due to arrive for another three. Just, if anything changes talk to me. I’m not hard to find.” The stallion stood up, as did I.

“Would there happen to be boarding, an inn or a tavern?” I asked as one of his deputy at the door opened it and spoke to Icepick and Rosetta.

“Just head down the street, it’s the Leaky Spittoon,” Copper said before motioning to his deputy. “About that set of equipment, if you want to keep it closer to the town we have some empty storage containers out near the railroad tracks. Ask one of the ponies out there, they’ll get you some chains and locks worth something.” He was at the door by now, and his deputy had already gone back into the unmitigated heat.

“You wouldn’t approve of Icepick stomping around town in her exoskeleton?” I asked him with certainty.

“That’s a way of putting it,” Copper said as he stepped out. Half a second later and the door was shut once again. I turned around, and Icepick came from the bed filled room. Her eyes were half shut, she was tired. Then again, I was too. Rosetta came in and shut the door behind him.

“You both need to talk,” he said before pointing to a door to the right of the entrance. “I’ve got some chairs in the kitchen, if you two want to sit with me.”

“We were given free enough rein,” I said before walking to the door. Rosetta beamed.

“Tell me you have something stronger than water back there,” Icepick said before coming towards me.

Rosetta laughed at that. “He asked the same thing, Icepick.”

I grasped the door with a tendril of magic before walking into a much cooler room, with a small table sitting a few feet from some rough hewn cupboards and a stove. My legs seemed to move of their own volition. The greatest quality of the chairs were that they had four legs, and a backing. But, I sat in one all the same. And so did Icepick, I saw from the corner of my eye. Rosetta trotted in and closed the door, a single pane of glass in the ceiling lit the room.

“This room is insulated pretty well. I spent some money getting fiberglass put in the walls,” he said, before walking to the front of the table, before leaning over it and giving me a critical look. “In my professional opinion, you’re gonna have a nice bruise.”

“He deserves a broken jaw,” Icepick said.

I turned to face her. “You need-” I started and was cut off by Rosetta.

“You two are so similar it hurts.” My eyes narrowed as I searched his face for answers. “You’re both soldiers, I could see it from the moment I saw you come through the door. I’ve never seen a soldier like a hospital.”

“So what, he’s shot ponies, I’ve shot ponies. That’s a ‘bond’ half of Sall’han shares,” Icepick said.

“You’re both alone,” Rosetta said simply.
“I left my home by choice, she did not, and she airs the grievance every other moment.” My voice rang true, I was here to find the Destroyer, to build a legacy. And she only cared about doing the right thing for her people. But he couldn’t know that, I ought to not know that. This damnable mare, if I didn’t know what she was I could be amicable.
“You’re both fighting because you’re afraid: afraid of the unknown, afraid of fucking up, and most of all, afraid of getting attached. I’ve helped enough ponies to see it in you both, you’ve lost people, so you’ve decided that pushing them away will keep you from dealing with their loss.” He broke his speech and sighed. “The last thing that I could tell right away, you’re both courageous. It takes a certain kind of pony to cross a desert, foes or not. If you can’t see the common ground, then you’re both fucked. That’s my professional opinion, not telling you to tie the knot or sing songs together. I mean, it couldn’t hurt.” He gave us a smile, before pulling two ceramic cups out and filling them from a jug sitting on the table.
Icepick and I, sat in silence for a moment. He just sat the cups before us. The water was down my throat very fast. “I just really don’t want the first Equestrian visitors to Copper Springs, or Paradise to kill each other.”
“I shouldn’t have kicked you,” she said softly, between more conservative sips of her water.
“I shouldn’t have provoked you,” I said as I poured more of the water into my cup.

“I mean, shit, you’re not the worst stallion, even if you’re a shit, at least you can use your brain,” she said before placing her cup on the table. I took that as a hint and poured her some more. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I never could accuse you of cowardice.” As I stopped, Rosetta pulled walked out from behind the table.

“I’m going to grab something, try not to get any fluids on my chairs,” he said with a straight face, and an accusatory tone.

“Fuck you, Doc,” Icepick told him with levity. The only response she got was a wry laugh. He had disappeared into what looked like a bedroom. I let my eyes fall on hers.
She was a pretty mare, I had known her before I had known her. Why though? I was a believer in reason, in causality. All the magic I had ever studied could be understood through those lenses. Here though, I knew just enough to colour my perceptions, to poison my view.

“New beginnings?” I asked softly. Her mouth shifted, her eyes widened.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” Icepick said. “Just, if I’m wrong about something, don’t be a dick about it, I’ll try not to push you.”

“You know, he forgot something similar about us-” I told her rhetorically, and was just about to finish my piece.

“They’re nice ponies, and we aren’t,” she finished for me. I laughed, but it wasn’t in anger or to provoke. It was honest laughter. Binding laughter. “I’m still gonna remember that you like my ass.” I just looked away, damn this mare.

“You probably get wet from hearing my accent,” I retorted. She couldn’t meet my eyes for a second. When she looked back: there was denial in her eyes, but her muzzle was caught in that half smile a person makes when an embarrassing truth has been revealed. “It’s alright, it’s only a genetic imperative.”

“I’m gonna hit you again, just telling you in advance,” she said before giving my shoulder the lightest of taps with a foreleg. “Besides, it’d be equally true for you.”

“I never said it wasn’t,” I responded. Now I was smiling too. What are we doing now, flirting?

The door swung open, and Rosetta came back out, sans the doctor’s coat. He trotted up to us, taking in the expressions on our faces. I saw the object floating in front of him. Rosetta came to rest in front of us.

“There we go, two attractive ponies realizing the other has feelings,” he said to us. I let my blank expression come to the fore. “Anyway, here’s a little gift from my people, to both of yours. Good luck with your mission, Paladin. And here’s hoping your notes survive the journey back, Permittivity.” Rosetta dropped the bottle on the table in front of us. It wasn’t rum, it was two dark for that.

“So, if anyone asks why I’m annihilated, I can say it was doctor’s orders?” Icepick asked, missing not a single beat.

“Just try, try, not to cause an international incident? Promise?” He pleaded with her, letting the bottle back into his grip and lifting it up over the table.

“I’m going to operate under the assumption that whatever room I board in, is outside of your jurisdiction.” I said to him.

“I don’t think a place can be an embassy without a flag,” Icepick spit out. The both of us tried our best not to seem surprised. “I’m starting to think that you both think I’m ignorant.”

“No, I’ve just been under the impression you had no exposure to ideas that were anathema to your leaders’ guiding ideology,” I said in response.

Icepick gave both of us a wide eyed look before issuing a shaky chuckle. “I mean, both of you have monogamous relationships as your normal. And I know that they exist, it’s just that they aren’t really a thing where I come from.”

“Our way of organising society has it’s ups and downs too, fuck if I don’t know ponies that wouldn’t be happier living your way,” Rosetta said before letting the bottle rest. “Please, just relax and recuperate you two. Celestia knows you need it.”

My mouth twitched involuntarily. This stallion was kind, he means you no harm, other than possibly wanting to be intimate.

“Thank you Doctor, now I believe we need to find lodging.” I said neutrally, intended or not. He was a Celestian.

“It’s been good, feel free to stop by. If I’m not busy, then I’m good for a conversation.” His words fell on my numbed ears, as I slid the bottle into my saddlebags.

“Will do,” Icepick said.

And within minutes we were out in the dusty streets, but I had coin, and I knew where to go. Things were easy, even as Icepick and I fell into a silence more companionable than usual. We had a lot to mull over, a fair part of it stemming from the pony walking beside us… Still, it was better than sand without end… Or a room slowly filling with poison…

Strange Bedfellows: Part One (X)

Author's Notes:

Uh, sorry about the time it took to get here. This probably my favourite chapter I've written so far. If you wanna read it with better formatting, I'll throw the link down right here.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SVjT6ucH41lZeeZkZtQKRCA4jW3knTvKWgq3yDmzp8M/edit
Well, I hope y'all enjoy, feel free to give me your thoughts.

I jammed the key in the lock and turned the handle with my leg. As soon as I felt the door give, I slammed my body into it. I didn’t stop when the door flew outward and smacked against the wall. My eyes fell on what was sitting in the center of the room. A bed! A real fucking bed! With a practiced shrug I let my saddlebags fall to the floor. My legs were already in the process of throwing me onto the thing…
“I’m tired as well, but I would remove my soiled garments before contacting the sheets,” Permittivity said to me as he trotted in behind me. I hated when he was right.

“Fuckin’ unzip me then,” I said as I looked over my shoulder at him. Of course he got flustered by that, the same stallion that had felt up corpses for coins. I turned around and found the zipper on my chest. “Just take over for me,” I said as I drug the zipper down to my stomach. These fucking zippers.

“For the record, you asked for this,” Perm mumbled out before dragging my zipper over my body and all the way past my tail in one clean motion. I let pulled my legs out one by one before letting the whole thing fall to the floor. “Is there a second zipper on there?”

“Yeah, it helps you hook up to parts of the armour,” I let out, my eyes falling halfway to the floor. How did this stallion make things that Rangers knew when they’re foals so awkward to explain? “And before you ask, yes I can take it off myself. It’s just a lot of work.”

“I understand,” he said softly as he magicked his saddlebags off to a tidy corner, before undressing and folding his clothes with that soft blue magic. My legs turned me around and threw me on the bed without asking me. The moment my ass felt the springs give under me, I felt ready to sleep. My body rolled onto my side, letting my head stay pointed at him. He was fiddling with something in his bags. “This room was cheaper than the other one, but I’m sure that-”

“It’s fine, like I said before, we basically slept in the same bed for the last week anyway.” I told him lazily, not that I really cared. I didn’t want to sleep alone. Didn’t want to be alone. With him here, I knew who he was, who he said he was, and he distracted me from the truth. I was in the middle of fucking nowhere, a nigh impassable desert away from everyone I had ever known and I had no idea how to get back. Or how to get them to listen to-

“Enjoy,” he had hopped into the luna sized bed. I flipped over, and there he was, laying on his side, looking at me with a friendly expression. He had one of our water skins, filled from one of their springs, floating in his magic. I grabbed it with my hoof. It tasted great, for the two seconds before it was empty.

“Rationing sucks ass,” I spat out. The empty skin fell on the sheets. His magic picked it up and dropped it on top of his bags. “You’re a show off.”

“That’s hypocrisy, I heard you talking to those ponies at the rail depot about your armour,” Perm took that moment to snicker, even after I gave him a dirty look. I gave him a lot of dirty looks, now that I think about it. “My favourite was when you told them that it was powered by a…”

I let him try to remember. Just lying on my side, my head cocked up to face his. “Spark Reactor,” as I helped him, my eyes just happened to roll.

“- that could explode like a small balefire bomb. And then they backed away.”

“That’s not showing off, that’s communicating a danger,” I finished as I watched him pull the bottle Rosetta gave us into view. Us. When had that happened?

“Altruism was your only motivation, clearly. Nevermind the stallions fawning over the enigmatic mare in the odd armour. That was purely coincidental,” he said as he grasped the bottle in his magic and twisted the cap off with his teeth. At least he could open a bottle the right way.

“Hey, I kept them from seeing you stuff that rifle into your bag!” I defended myself as I got the first whiff coming off of that bottle.
“And I applaud you for that,” Permittivity said before taking a good pull from the bottle. His face lit up as he let it drop down his throat. He looked at me before falling onto his back, his head lying on a pillow. I picked myself up before taking the bottle from him. Whatever, I deserved a fucking drink. He watched me closely as I took a swig. Fuck, this shit was strong. I let him take the bottle again in his magic.
“That doctor guy is alright,” I said as I felt the booze start to play with the food in my stomach. He laughed, before leaning back against the headboard. Perm took the time to drink a bit more. I looked down at him, his legs were splayed. And just under his stomach was his sheath. I swear I only stared for a second. He cleared his throat. “I-I’m just gonna lay down.” Without thinking about it, my body kinda dropped onto the bed. For a second I just enjoyed the feeling of cloth under my body before rolling again.
“I’ll make us even,” Perm said before looking straight at my tits. He stared for a moment, before meeting my eyes again.
“Ha, ha,” I retorted. “You’re so funny, Perm.”
“I really am,” he said with a snicker between each word. “Give it time my dear.”
“Sure,” I said before accepting the bottle from him again. It was weird drinking in this position, but I was talented… And he was a unicorn.
We just laid there for a few minutes. He took a loud breath after another swig before looking at me again.
“You ever thought about what you would be if you weren’t a Ranger?”
“Kind of. When I was a filly I wished I had born before the war. But, there isn’t anything other than being a Ranger. So I grew up.”
“That isn’t an answer,” he said calmly. His eyes flashed wistful for a moment.
“Royal Guard,” I told him. “What the fuck would you be?”
“Professor,” he said to me. “Why a Royal Guard? You’ve seen enough violence to abhor it.”
“Of course you’d like to prattle on to a captive audience. And yes, I hate hurting ponies, I’m not a monster, at least not one like that. It’s just, serving the princesses… Helping ponies in better days. Having a home-” I stopped myself and took the bottle from him.
“A home. I had one once. Twice actually. One was ripped away from me-” He started his spiel but I cut him off. He was so much better when he just shut up. I could look at him as a stallion, not a liar.
“But you fucked up the other one?” Permittivity grimaced as I spoke. He closed up again, and began to pull away. He had gotten onto his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. “We’re friends or something right, sorry,” I said as I placed the bottle on the shaky looking nightstand.
“To be frank with you, I’ve had friends before, family before, and lovers before. I’ve never had an ‘Icepick’ before.” I laughed as he said that.
“I mean, you aren’t exactly the stallion of my dreams…” I said quietly before chuckling to myself. This fucking lying piece of- Perm’s muzzle messed up as he concentrated on my words.
“You’re intoxicated, Icepick,” he said before snorting.
“Shut up,” I said before rolling onto my back. The warmth was hitting me pretty hard now. Every movement I made felt different. “I’m gonna sleep now,” I said with a yawn. It’d been awhile since the last time I’d gotten plastered. And the last time I’d gotten plastered, I’d woken up with a strange buck… But I knew this stallion. I knew that he was trouble, just, not what kind of trouble he was. If I hadn’t known-
“That’s a good idea,” he said before chuckling to himself in a low voice. “Goodnight,” he said quietly. He always slept on his side, this time his head was pointed at mine, and his legs were sticking out to fill the space between us. I stayed as I was for a long time, until, out of nowhere I felt like I was falling for a second. Something in me must have messed up, but it was nice, free fall. I didn’t know what I was doing, other than sleeping in bed with a stallion I barely knew… But I at least knew him better than the rest of these ponies. They all just milled about and talked about wanting things, and ways to get things. They only cared about themselves, and maybe their families. Where was their sense of purpose, of being a part of something greater?
At least Perm seemed driven by something. He might tell ponies he’s in it for the money, but that was a lie. If it was something good, then maybe I could get it out of him. That didn’t feel likely. Maybe it was just that no-one leaves their place, their life, and everything they ever knew easily. Something has to push you. I rolled over on my side, and in the greys of low light I made out his head laying softly on the pillow. He looked like he was already out. I wondered what he was dreaming about? Maybe sex, from what I had seen, he seemed to like stallions, and mares. The image of a big rough stallion plowing him was a nice one… Fuck, why did booze make me horny! I mean, he wasn’t exactly bad looking. His voice was nice, when he wasn’t being annoying. And, he knew how to fight…
Why couldn’t he just be a Ranger, why couldn’t I have met him some other place, some other time? I bit my lip as I felt the last of the booze get into my bloodstream. Did he want me? He likes my looks, I caught him staring a couple times, and he basically told me. I don’t know if that means he wants to fuck- Like everything else, he had to make things complicated and confusing.

I yawned and felt my muscles lose some tension, damnit, I should’ve gotten a massage out of him before he passed out. The thought of him standing over me, kneading my shoulders and back with his forehooves and magic… Well, maybe tomorrow night. I looked at him again, he’d go for that. Or maybe that pink doctor, he was worth a look…

“So, you don’t have any new bruises, and Permittivity hasn’t come in with any broken bones-” Rosetta said to me from across the table. He was cooking something, but he was keeping it a secret. “So, the night went well, I take it.”

“I-I mean, yeah, we just kinda drank, talked, and passed the fuck out.” I said to him while I looked away and messed with my mane.

“That’s not quite what I expected, but better than it could have gone. I do have a question though, you said that you’ve only known him for about a week, but you seem like you know each better than that,” Rosetta finished before beaming at me.

“I don’t know about him. Look, do you want the truth? Even if it makes no fucking sense?” I asked him, knowing what he would want. And did it really matter? I needed to tell someone anyway, the weirdness of it had been eating at me for a long time.

“You slept with him didn’t you?” He asked with a smile.

“No!” I pretty much yelled back. “I-I mean, I think we both thought about it-” I also thought about fucking you too, but- “No, it’s weirder than that.” Rosetta turned around to stir something on the stove.

“I’m listening,” he said with a snort.

“So, about a year ago, maybe a year and a half, I had a dream where I walking around a snowy city. All around me were ponies, speaking weird equestrian. There were thousands of them, the city didn’t seem to end. Off in the distance were big towers that looked like they were made of glass. Black glass.” I paused as I recalled that first dream. I had woken up that morning with a splitting headache. And after I tried explaining why it was weird to Ironsight, she had laughed it off.

“That’s a pretty dream. But, how does it involve Permittivity?” He gave me the same look that she had.

“I was getting to that. So, dreams normally skip from bit to bit, no transitions,” he turned to nod at me. I started up again, reassured. “It wasn’t like that, I remember looking from the skyline to the street, and making every step. It was really cold, cold enough that I had a cloth over my mouth to keep the air from hitting my lungs directly. But I didn’t shiver or react to it, the ache and slow loss of sensation felt normal to me. Eventually I made to an apartment building, before throwing open the door with magic… I was a unicorn. That woke me out of it, I figured out I was dreaming.” I took a breath and watched his face, his lips turned as he thought over what I had said.

“That’s pretty impressive, I’ve never had a lucid dream. To be honest though, so far it just sounds like a really weird dream. But dreams are known to be weird. I have to ask, were you reading something about the Crystal Empire before this happened?”

“The Crystal Empire?”

“It was a city of magical crystal in old Equestria, well, north of it. If I remember correctly, it was surrounded by ice and snow. It was also lost for a thousand years, but it reappeared a few years before the war began.” He told me with curiosity in his voice. It was cute. Damn, he was helping me figure this shit out. I smiled at him.

“In some of the other dreams ponies talked about ‘the Empire’ and the ‘Old City’... That doesn’t make any sense though, if it was in old Equestria how could he-” I looked at him, and he just motioned for me to keep going. “Right. When I went up the stairs I spoke for the first time, my voice was his.”

“What?” he said as I hesitated. He was going to think I was mental, and that would mean the only person who didn’t think I had a screw loose would be Permittivity- I leaned over the counter just like Rosetta, before laying my forehooves over his. He looked at me with surprise.
“Promise me?” I asked quietly, he nodded and slipped one of his forehooves out from under mine and place it over mine. “Okay- it was Permittivity’s voice.” I waited for him to say something. He stayed silent, his eyes unfocused and his head dipping towards the floor. “Yeah. Just try to imagine having those dreams for a year, before the person you were dreaming as just fucking appears.”
“So, you’re telling me that he’s from the Crystal Empire, and is lying about it?” He asked as he chewed his lip.
“Listen, I really can’t prove it too you, and I don’t know what the Crystal Empire is or how he got here, but he’s not from here, and I have a hard time believing that he’s lying for a good reason.” As I said this his face lit up. He got about halfway to a smile before it began to reverse.
“You could prove it to me.” Rosetta said quietly.
“How?” I yelled at him. He flinched for a second, before taking a deep breath.
“Have you ever heard of memory magic?”
“Isn’t that something the Ministry of Morale developed?” What was he talking about, why couldn’t stallions just tell things straight?
“Yes. It allows me to go through a ponies memories and view them. So, if you remember these dreams as well as you say, then I could find them-”
“I’ll do it, Doc,” I cut him off and smiled at him as he stared at me in surprise.
“It’s invasive as hell, and it takes hours - and you’ll be unconscious by necessity-”
“Then put me fucking under, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for way too long. And, we might be piece together… Perm,” I told him straight up, anything to figure out what that buck was here for. Because, I- the Rangers still needed him.
“I’ll be looking around in there, I don’t know what I’ll see. This magic was originally created to interrogate prisoners.” It won’t be nice, and this stallion will know all about me. Remember things I have a hard time remembering. I couldn’t see the difference between this and fighting for the Rangers.
“I understand, but I now that I know about this, I’m not gonna stop asking you about it. I thought I was going mental, and that was before this stallion appeared just in time to pull my ass out of the fire.” Before he made me want to kiss him and strangle him at the same time. Just so we’re clear, choking isn’t a sex thing for me.
“Alright,” Rosetta said before smiling at me. “It’ll take some time, and you’ll experience the memories with me, from what I’ve read it will reinforce them.”
“I don’t really see a downside, now are we gonna eat?” My eyes moved over to his pot, which was boiling over. I gave a laugh as I watched him dart over to it.
“That’s your food too!” He huffed at me, even as I saw him smile. I could tell that this was something he liked to do. I mean, he’d invited me and Perm over separately, and together before we left last night.
“Been wondering something: why’d you invite us over?” I asked him just as he got the food under control.
“You both seemed like you needed help, but more than that, you’re both so strange. I don’t even know where to start with you two, at least I didn’t before you told me about these dreams. That only adds to the mystery. Frankly though, I haven’t come across two cavalier ponies that will do anything for a cause, except come to terms with their own feelings. So, I want to help you both-”
“Help me? What part of me needs help?” I chirped to him, trying to keep the feelings in my gut from spilling out. He sighed and faced me again.
“I can’t answer that question, only you can.” I glared at him for a moment, before realizing that he probably wasn’t wrong.
“Between fighting terrorists, and trying to figure out who the fuck Perm is, I haven’t really had the time to diagnose myself.” I said to him. He didn’t say anything, he just looked me in the eyes. My muscles were tensing up under my skin, and my voice was getting closer and closer to yelling. I took stock as I watched him turn around to start dishing out the food. He waved his tail a little as he filled two bowls, and I could just just make out him humming something.
“There’s always going to be something nagging at you, something that’s ‘more’ important. So, are you ever really going to put yourself first?” His voice was still, I had basically came into house and started yelling at him after he suggested that I could use some help. But he didn’t raise his voice to match mine.
“Once Tegarni is gone, once things are figured out, and once things are peaceful again, I’ll be at peace too.” He put the bowl in front of me, and hoofed me a spoon. It was still steaming.
“Hmm,” he hummed as he walked around the island and climbed the seat beside mine. “So, how far back would I have to dig into your memories to find the peace you’re talking about?” He smiled softly, before looking back at his soup.
I groaned before sticking the spoon into the soup. “I, I serve a purpose. I keep the Rangers going. I’ve taken bullets and worse for them. I know that the people in charge aren’t perfect, no group is. I may not agree with everything we do, but what else do I have?” I turned my head to look at him. “We’re the only ones keeping Equestria alive. I don’t need to be happy all the time, no one can be. So I’m fine.”
“I can respect finding meaning in your cause. I do it too, I heal ponies. Hell, I just like making them happy. But, I have dreams of my own, not world changing dreams, pony sized ones. So, the question is, do you have them? Do you repress them because of-”
“Fuck, why do you care? Why are you interested in what I want?” I asked him, with more of that anger leaking out. “How about this: I’ve always dreamed of eating soup cooked by a nice stallion, there, I’m now completely fulfilled and can die happy. Now, can we talk about something else before you going rooting around in my brain?”
He looked down quietly, before picking up his spoon and eating robotically. Rosetta glanced at me every couple of seconds, fleeting glances. I did the same.

When I finished, he sat up and picked up both of our bowls in his magic. I saw him start towards the kitchen again. I had to do something, he didn’t deserve this. Without thinking I got to my hooves as he watched me with a tired look on his face, before I pressed a hoof gently into his side.

“I-I don’t like what you ask, or how you do it, but I appreciate you trying. It just isn’t - what did that mare I talked to this morning call it - right for a first date.” I choked out, while biting my own lip. When I looked at him again, whatever nervousness I had was outdone by this stallion’s face going cherry red. Which is kinda impressive given he had a pink coat. Maybe I didn’t understand-

“Uh, I-I thought you were involved with-” He started and stopped as I pulled myself closer.

“No. I mean, yes, but-”

“-It’s complicated. You learned the word date from a mare in town?” He asked as he tried keep from laughing, but I could see his lips begin to curl, as much he would deny it.

“No, we have dates in the Rangers, gotta have a time for forms and timetables,” I told him as he shifted closer, one of his forelegs moving over my back. My body seemed to push gently against his. “And I’ve been on a date before, it’s just the way she talked about them, as like a game of Stalliongrad Roulette, but instead of dying, you have a tiny chance to meet your special-” He couldn’t help but burst out laughing, even after I stopped talking.

“Who did you talk to? I have to know,” Rosetta asked me with a smile.

“Lemondrop, I think? Blonde mane? Cream coat?” I answered as I leaned into him, my muzzle growing closer and closer to his.

“That sounds about right,” he said as he closed the distance. I had a second to think about what I was doing. I had been wanting a stallion for weeks, and this one seemed right, but what would this stallion want from me? Then, Rosetta pressed his muzzle against mine, and my train of thought was gone. Obliterated. Like three kilos of plastic explosive under a timber bridge obliterated. I gently ran my foreleg on his back as he stayed still and closed his eyes. I could feel his heart beating like he just taken a hit of jet. After a few seconds I pulled away and watched him open his eyes, his cheeks more flushed than any stallion I had ever seen.

“You wanna keep going?” I said as I let my hoof drop to his withers, giving his cutiemark a grope. He let out a half yelp, half moan at that, before lowering his head and running his muzzle against my neck. This was what I had wanted for weeks, I had a stallion alone, and he was into it. My nethers were starting to heat up as I watched him pull his head up again. I could feel my lips pull into a sly half smile, and my eyes half closed.

“Yes,” he said as he put his muzzle next to mine. I took that without reservations, and pushed my mouth against his, my tongue looking to push his lips out of the way. Right before he pushed me back. “But, not right now,” Rosetta told me as he untangled himself from me. I heard him let out a sigh, as I waited for him to explain himself. He had better have a good- “I just met you, and well, I don’t just want to jump into sex.”

I got back to my hooves and stood tall, before looking at him. “O-okay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, right now I’m hanging halfway out of my sheath.” He put a hoof to my shoulder and looked me right in the eyes. “I just, I get attached to people when I fuck. I’m not asking for a commitment, or telling you that I don’t want to sleep with a beautiful mare, I just- we barely know each other. At least you know Perm.” He finished with a sigh.

I just stood there for a minute trying to process what this stallion was telling me. He only wanted to fuck ponies that he felt attached to? What kind of attachment is he looking for? “I-okay?” Rosetta frowned.

“If I’m going to dig into your memories, I’ll give you something too. First mare I ever got with, she was wonderful, fun to be around, she made me feel complete in ways that nothing else can. But, when she needed to leave, she never even looked back. I loved her. She didn’t love me back-” There was a hitch in his breath as he spoke, and I couldn’t let him keep going.

“I think I know what you’re getting at. That pony that makes you feel better, that little pickup you get around them. When they don’t feel it, and your chest starts to feel like you’ve got a brick on it. I guess the feeling isn’t unique to me…” I said to him as I felt a word connect to its meaning.

“You understand,” He said before turning around and angling himself towards his bedroom. He was holding himself a little lower than he was before. “So, you still want me to confirm your prophetic dreams?”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” I said as I took a step towards him.

“He would,” he threw back. I snorted as I thought about that stallion. The one that just happened to be in my dreams. I wondered if he would have turned me down. Would I turn him down?
I followed Rose inside as he flipped on a light with his magic. The room had a bed that could fit two ponies if they didn’t mind touching, a dresser with a mirror attached to the top and a trunk sitting at the front of the bed. A single window with a thick pane of glass was cracked open. Rosetta turned to me before walking over to the bed and sitting down neatly on it. He smiled nervously and spread his legs out just enough for them not to fall asleep. “The actual magic is pretty complicated, but I’m basically going to contact your forehead with my horn. After a few seconds you should fall into a trance as you experience what I choose to view.”

“Okay-but, if you start perving on me after turning me down, I’m gonna be confused, horny, and angry. In that order.” I said with a stern expression before shifting to a smile as I sat down in front of him and made myself comfortable.

“Oh it’s kinda like rewinding a holomovie, so if that happens, well-” I just smiled at him.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Rosetta said before leaning over and touching his horn to my head.

“Uh, nothing’s-” I started to say, just as I saw a burst of light from his horn.

The sun was burning brightly, but it hung low on the horizon, barely above the buildings. The buildings that remained standing. My head dipped towards the ground. The snow that built up on the sidewalk was littered with debris and darkened by ash. Around me ponies went about their business, trotting frantically, their eyes drawn to the clocks they wore on their legs. I merely stood there for what must have been a long time, watching them, even as the winds stole heat from me. Eventually, I drew a deep breath and started towards a large building on the outskirts of what must have been a city.

Various ponies garbed in layers of clothing passed into and out of the building. The front of the building seemed to be supported by dark columns of granite shaped to look similar to crystal. The entrance opened into a large rectangular room heated by a number of hearths that burned in the corners. To the left and the right were separate hallways, and if I continued straight on a poorly lit service corridor awaited me. But, I barely seemed to notice any of it. I came to a stop in center of the room. My eyes scanning for a specific pony. Whenever I happened to stare at a pony that I wasn’t looking for starred back, I just stared them down until they looked away.
“You’re late,” a pony said to him from the rightmost hallway.

“The train did not arrive on schedule,” I said to the pony as soon as I made eye contact with them.

“A shame, though not unexpected given the war.” The pony speaking was a tan stallion with eyes that looked familiar. He looked to be about thirty or so, and was stocky stallion who spoke with the same accent that I did. “But we all make sacrifices, now don’t we?” I felt my horn flow and the scarf I was wearing over my mouth was pulled down to my neck. The other stallion’s eyes widened as I did that.
“Some more than others,” I told him before pausing to watch his reaction. “When did you receive the letter?” I asked him quietly,
“I did not. I was telephoned by the authorities.” The stallion frowned. “I’ll lead you to the director’s office. Petunia and Bullion are waiting along with the lawyer and the wi-”
“I understand,” I spoke tersely. “How have you gotten along?” I asked him as he began to walk, he looked a little annoyed at me cutting him off.
“For the longest time I had to assuage my clients about the course of the war, and the necessity of the taxes imposed on them. I thought that the war was lost when the initial offensive failed to secure Canterlot and the colonies ended hostilities with the Celestians proper. But after that weapon was used on the front, you wouldn’t believe what that did for the futures market. And for someone who deals largely in industrial concerns it was a windfall. I just wish we knew more about it!” As this stallion spoke my face twisted into a grimace. I didn’t know what was going on- This stallion was making money from a war? Maybe? All I knew was, I was inside Perm, and this other stallion was getting giddy about some weapon being used. To make things worse he had the same ‘accent’ as Perm, but thicker.
“It’s good that you’re doing well financially out of… this,” I spoke slowly, and my steps got slower.
“I realize that you’ve been through a great deal Permittivity.” He paused, as they came to a closed door with the lights on inside. I heard him sigh loudly. Before he turned his head to face mine. He placed a hoof on my shoulder. “They would want you to be happy.”
I brushed his hoof off and jerked the door open with my horn. The inside was dully lit with bulbs that made as heat as they did light. It seemed almost intentional, this place needed every bit of warmth that it could get. The ponies under the lights were startled by the door swinging open, and my entrance. Inside were another four ponies, standing around two pedestals set at barrel height, three stallions and one mare. Two of them wore big hats on their heads. The mare got over her surprise the fastest, she narrowed her eyes and curled her lips before forcing a smile as the stallion beside her cleared his throat. From behind me I heard the stallion close the door and stand to the right of me.
“It’s good to see you again, Permittivity,” the stallion said. He was wearing some fancy looking clothing, along with that big hat. Together it reminded me of a picture of Canterlot I had seen in book years ago. “We last met at the reception. If it weren’t for the war, I’d have thought you were making yourself scarce.” The stallion walked around the pedestal to get to me. He extended a forehoof. I hesitated before extending mine. The stallion grasped mine and yanked me forward as he shook my hoof. And maybe I didn’t understand all the customs at play, but I could tell a shit eating grin when I saw one. “But now that Principal brought you here, as much as I would love for you to regale us with tales from the front…”
“Yet, time is of the essence. We must bury the dead from this war, in hopes that we shan’t need bury another. So when is the funeral scheduled?” My eyes scanned each of their eyes quickly. The stallion who was dressed more plainly seemed to be pained, eyes turning downwards as they met mine.
“Brother, I’ve missed your words. Always well spoken, I have no doubt you fought gallantly, nevermind your wounds.” The mare, who I assumed was Petunia, said to the group before joining her stallion beside Perm. I felt my ears flick as Principal said something under his breath.
“I only did what many others did,” I drew in a breath, holding it as I scanned the faces of these ponies.
“Of course,” Bullion said to me.
“So, the will was a simple split of assets. And because of the way it happened no possessions survived. The building was reduced to rubble.” The pony with the big hat who hadn’t said anything yet told the assembled room. “If you would like to look at the will, I have a copy on my person. All told the inheritance will be two thousand-three hundred and four marks a piece. I have cheques prepared for each of you.”
“Thank you, Tort,” the stallion who wasn’t wearing a big hat, and who seemed to be the most resigned took his turn to speak. “Their wills didn’t speak about of a specific funeral arrangement. Our usual package is a closed casket affair in the cemetery outside of the city. All told it would be five-hundred-”
“That isn’t what they wanted. That will was written recently? Perhaps beginning of the war, based off of a standard template?” I asked ‘Tort’ while biting my lip.
“Many of the wills I deal with were completed during the war, and yes, they filled it out a bit of a perfunctory fashion.-”
“I know that they wanted to be buried at Sheifstein.” I said with my lips pressed together.
“That wasn’t corroborated in any fashion,” Tort said to me.
“I’ve been there with them, and so has Principal,” I said flatly. Tort didn’t react. I felt that hoof on my shoulder once again.
“That is true, I’m glad that you brought that to our attention.” Principal said to me, he had a sad smile written across his muzzle. “Back when grandmother was buried. That was thirteen-fourteen years ago…”
“I don’t remember that,” Petunia said with her voice heightened a bit, and with just the smallest hint of sneer. I bit the inside of my cheek when I saw that.
“You wouldn’t, you were lodged with our uncle during that.” I spoke the words, and they sounded almost warm.
“Alright, I’ve dealt with that Cemetery, though it’s been several years. I can get them buried there. Though it will cost a fair bit more, if memory serves,” the Funeral director told me, his muzzle kinda turning up at the thought of the additional work. I saw Bullion turn to Petunia and begin whispering with her. In the silence, Perm let his eyes drift towards the tarp covered platform. His vision lost focus, and he bit his lip again. I couldn’t hear his thoughts…
I tried to make sense of all of this, I had gotten better at understanding their accents, but it all of it was overwhelming. Alien. In the Rangers, you got a service, and your ashes were scattered over the ocean, along with a plaque and a mention in the records. I didn’t really see the point of this, but I had read that back in old Equestria they did this too. They did a lot of weird things though, planting flowers, and using precious metals for currency. So much of it seemed wasteful, maybe I just didn’t understand. Maybe I could ask Permittivity or Rosetta about it. As weird as Perm was, and as much as he lied about things, he could probably help me understand what Old Equestria was like. What was missing in the Rangers…

“I appreciate the thought, Permittivity, but my wife and I are under the weather financially,” Bullion said in that apologetic tone. “We can contribute money for the standard burial. More would jeopardise our livelihood.” I said nothing to this stallion. Though my neck started turning to face Principal before stopping.
“How much would the total be for a burial there? Estimate if you need to.”
“It’s a many years, but it should come out to about three thousand marks, give or take,” The director said to Principal and I.
“So, divided evenly, it would be a thousand marks from each of us,” Principal did the math in his head, math everypony in room did too, but he said it flatly, and with a glance towards his sister.
“It’s what they would have wanted,” I said quietly. “You can contribute however much you’re comfortable with. I’ll contribute the rest.” There was that glare from his sister again, only showing for half a second.
“Petunia, I know that you have a foal on the way. Permittivity and I can split the cost,” the stallion said with a smile, a knowing one. Gregarious. Even it seemed a lot less real when he was looking at her.
I smiled. It wasn’t forced. There was some other talk, and it took a long time. But eventually things were done. Most of the inheritance would be going towards the burial. The two of them were going to buried side by side. And there would be a single headstone; Petunia wanted to get a pony sized one. Permittivity fought against that idea. “They wouldn’t have wanted an ostentatious marker.” It was weird to hear the passion in his voice. Even if I didn’t couldn’t quite visualize it all.
When the meeting business was done, Perm didn’t stay after to chat with anyone. He just left the building quietly. His eyes opened in surprise when Principal rushed out out the door. He didn’t seem like kinda pony to be in a rush, it didn’t really suit him. Maybe it was because of seeing his brother look a little bit ruffled, with his hat sitting a little bit agar on his head, that I stopped in my tracks.

The moment that Principal had seen Perm stop, he resumed his stately movement. “Just going to leave me to the wolves like that, little brother?” he asked to me from about a ponies length away.

“If anyone can handle them, it would be you,” Permittivity said to him. His voice was drained. The sun was almost down, it sat lower in the sky than I had ever seen it before. The colours themselves seemed greyed out. The ash from the smokestacks must have gotten high enough to-

“Permittivity, would you care to have a drink with me?” Principal asked, his voice lowered as well. A just of wind came through as he spoke. It bit through his barding, I could feel my skin prickling once again.

“I’m not smaller than you Principal, we’ve been over this many a time,” I said with a bit of indignation. Perm’s eyes traced over his face, questioning the slight smile that his words had given him.

“Yes, yes, I remember. If you add the horn to your total height then yes we are the same height,” the stallion said. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had this discussion.”

I said nothing for a moment. Eyes locked in place, but not focused either. The street lights switched on seemed to bring me back to myself. It must have been three or four seconds. “I’m not sure if the stallion I am now, I don’t know if anyone would want to…” The words died in my mouth. Jaw hanging half way open as I began to shiver.
“You’re my brother, nothing can change that.” The larger stallion closed the distance before bumping his shoulder into mine. “Come hither,” he spoke to me, before starting off in that gait that of his. Then it dawned on me why that seemed familiar, it was the same walk Elder Waters had. I wanted to blink, but I wasn’t in control here.
Permittivity trod after him his hooves dragging with every step. Somehow without having seen my face I knew that I had circles under my eyes. I had walked for a while, and that meeting had taken hours. But I hadn’t felt a pang of hunger yet. Had Perm been eating? I wondered to myself as I seemed to feel his body for the first time. Just talking to ponies had worn him out, his head hung low even as his brother began to hum a tune. The sun disappeared first from the cover of buildings, and then from the horizon itself. He looked back at me frequently, and slowed himself each time he realized I had fallen behind. Perm pushed himself harder on weakened legs each time he did that. I think the tinge of pity on the stallion’s face made him do that. All the same, the same weight in his body drug him down again each time.
Eventually we made it too a squat wooden and brick building with light and the smell of stale beer spilling out from the spaces between the door and the frame.
I spotted an aged sign hanging above the door. The Gilded Net it read, with rough image of a fishing net painted in yellowish gold. I mean, it got the point across to a mostly desert dwelling filly…
Principal opened the door for me, and himself before striding in and hanging his hat on a rack next to the door. At first glance this place could’ve probably seated thirty ponies, at six or seven little tables. But the place was about half full, with the aged bar, smelling of smoke and booze, holding up the ponies that were in here. Old fishing gear, mounted heads and other knickknacks and trophies were adorned the walls on top of peeling wall paper. A nicked wooden floor with a bit of gray snow, and the melt that came from it followed directly from the doorway to the bar. It barely reflected the greasy light coming from a furnace in the far corner. The rest of the light came from a hoof full of large bulbs spreading yellow light around the tavern.
“Two bitters, and whatever meal you’d feed an old friend,” Principal said loudly enough to be heard, but not to be any trouble to the other patrons. to the pony behind the bar, who in turn started pouring beer. The cook poked his head out from a door behind the bar and got a few words from the bar mare.
“Good to see you again Prince, been a while” the mare said with a laugh, one that was some of the other ponies. Perm’s ears flicked towards the noise, as he scanned the ponies near him. The shivering didn’t stop. Even if the room was pretty comfortable with that boiler in the back corner.
“I bought an old face with me, he needs to get him a taste of home,” Principal said back to her as he pulled himself into the nearest stool. I did the same.
My eyes settled on the bar mare as she walked over to us, pushing our beers over to us using her a foreleg. When she got them to us Principal took his up and sipped it a little before sitting it down again. Perm picked his up with a foreleg and pounded a third of it before pulling it away from his lips.
“Have we met before?” the mare asked Permittivity, her muzzle scrunched in thought. Perm said nothing as he felt the warm, bitter taste flow into his empty gut. He wouldn’t look away, but his face remained stony as he gnawed the inside of his mouth again. The skin above and below my muzzle started to itch after she said that. At the same time a deep ache came from my side. I knew the feeling of body knitting itself together, just not like this. Her eyes, their eyes, and the warmth in the room wracked my body with a shiver again. This was a deeper shake, like my muscle was trying to tear itself from my bones. I put my shaking hoof on the mug again and drank as she watched me with a resigned expression. “I don’t remember a shell shocked horn head drinking here before. Ehh, let me get you another one though.” His nostrils flared out slightly and his breath got hot when she said horn head to his face.
“This is my brother. He left for university years ago,” Principal said from my side. His firm hoof came to rest on my shoulder as he spoke. It helped with the shakes, even as those wounds called out to me all the same. I barely felt anything when I was meeting about the burial, my body was numb. Now all of Perm’s pain was flowing back into him. He didn’t even have the cold to get his mind off of it now. To get my mind off of it. I couldn’t hear his thoughts but his body echoed them; I’m not sure how I knew that but I did.
“My father must have ran the place back then,” she said quietly as she put another full glass in front of me. Perm took the hint. The rest of the first glass entered his stomach in first order.
“Permittivity, you haven’t even eaten yet?” Prince said to him with an edge of sternness spilling out.
“It hasn’t been my first priority.”
“Permittivity, I understand why you would feel this way. The war has touched us all,” he said this without moving his hoof. “They took something from us that can never be replaced, never. Regardless, Mother and Father would want you to carry on, they knew that their children could help build a future. And to be perfectly candid: when you left, I never expected you to return- that you survived the Celestians… When I heard that the war had ended, I forgot their end for the day. I was swept up in celebration because my brother had lived. I would see him breathing again, talk to him about inane things again. See him married someday. Perhaps get an in-law that I didn’t want to strike down with a street stone.” Perm cracked a smile at that, before picking up his mug again. “You living brightened me, Permittivity, and as long as know that you survived I can sleep at night.” Principal smiled and there was a twitch at the edge of his face. He was holding back tears. Perm had gotten started on that second mug as he listened to his loved one speak. When his brother stopped, Perm met his eyes.
“I’m a sorry substitute for them. That future is a mirage. You don’t know what I know. I saw things out there. We fought over hills that were more charnel house than Earth. Ponies falling into shell holes the size of this bar filled with shit and piss, leftover gas, and bloated bodies that couldn’t be pulled out.” Perm stopped for a moment. Across the bar some of the ponies had stopped to listen to him. I-He bit his cheek again before polishing off his beer. He didn’t stop, he was a train running downhill with no brakes. I could feel my own tears forming as Perm told these ponies about what he had been through. My own stomach churned as I felt my imagination fill with images of my friends turned to meat and trod upon by fellow Rangers. Of the smirking dick of a stallion that I knew living through this. I wanted to get out of here now. I wanted to breath hyperventilate as I thought about living those memories that he was recollecting for his brother. Fighting back the urge to wretch, I managed to not panic at the realization that if I stayed in here, if my own mind had dreamt of Perm’s waking nightmare and buried it… Rosetta would lead us both into it. There was so much I couldn’t know, things that Permittivity shouldn’t have known.
“As I huddled in shell holes and listened to dying ponies crying out from no-mare’s land, I thought to myself, ‘it couldn’t be worse.’ So, I and others fought and died; some of us making it through the hell that it was. A month ago I was with a friend on a quiet night, on a quiet section of the front. Regardless, he died when some Celestians snuck across to us. It nearly happened to me, Principal.” Perm stopped for a second, his body shaking again. By now the warmth of the beer had began spreading around him. It helped him, it helped me. Numbed and warm in a way we both knew was fake. He picked his story back up just as the food arrived. Some fried potatoes and boiled greens. Looked plain as hell. Still smelled delicious. The cook had taken to standing in the doorway and listening to Perm, the barmare looked away while smoking a hoof made cigarette. Her ears were still pointed towards Perm. Most of the other ponies had stopped speaking, heads turned towards him or looking down at the bar in silence. Between drinks of course, but even that was subdued…
“I remember drawing what I thought was my final breath. Yet I sit here with you, in a city that has felt the same pains. Maidenpool wears wounds from it just as raw as mine. There is no difference now. No-one is safe now. We’re all soldiers now, and just as unable to climb out of the shell holes now as I was then. I can see the doubt on your faces now. We’re not at war now, we won, we have the weapon.” Perm stopped for a moment. Principal looked on with worry as his brother talked about the end of the world. I - Perm was a liar, wherever the fuck he’s from it wasn’t anywhere near here. We had had our bombs dropped. He was worried about something that had happened to my ancestors. The Rangers in Old Equestria must’ve said the same things. Been through the same things. It must’ve fucked him up. Just the way his brother looked at him told me that. Knowing that the world was fucked-
“None of you are simple minded. We all know that the Celestians have always had a material advantage. It’s only a matter of time until they have the same weapon. And when that happens, any little incident, any miscalculation on the parts of either side would make this war look like a border skirmish… and this one was within spitting distance of armageddon.”
“Perm, they might have the weapons soon. But what can be done about it? What solution could anypony have for this problem? In light of this, all you can do is live the fullest life you can. At least until they have the weapon we should be safe. They wouldn’t dare touch us as long as we have them.” Permittivity snorted as his brother tried to comfort him.

“Perhaps the only thing to be done, is to wage that final war before they have the bomb. Burn their cities. Drive them across the ocean.” His eyes began to tear up at the prospect as a nerve was struck inside of him. “The maddening thing is, the only way we could save the future is to burn half the world. To turn right back into the fire. Back into hell-” Everypony watching him had gone from pitying him… to something else. Thousand yard stare, slight shakes, sneers, but from Principal it was a look of disappointment and fear.

“-Destroying millions of lives and changing everything, all in the hopes that the victors may survive. That’s what you’re talking about Permittivity. Somber’s war-” His brother spoke softly, his eyes were wide. His own stare now unfocused.
These weapons sounded like megaspells, they way these ponies were talking about them. And Perm was wanting to use them to against ponies who didn’t have them yet. To fight a war of annihilation. I wanted to hit him for even saying it outloud. At the same time, I understood. He was a wounded pony. I didn’t know what he felt for his parents, but I could understand a bit of what he had been through in that war. I tried to shudder as a thought surfaced. Was I any better? If I could wipe the Insurgents out, roll over them for a thousand years; would I let anything stop me? Just as I tried to shake that thought from my mind. Perm began to laugh, a laugh without any warmth, I felt a smile break across my muzzle. He must’ve looked unhinged.
“That story is a myth, there were was no sun goddess, no moon goddess. Somber merely led a war against the Diarchy to the south! Just a foal’s tale. Trust me when I say magic is nothing like that, ” He took another drink and looked down at his food. He picked up a spoon with his magic and ate a bite.
“Brother, I don’t know what to say.” Another bite. “These are the same stories that we were taught as foals, mother and father-” Perm looked him in the eyes. “-even if they aren’t as falsifiable as shards of pottery or whatever scraps of text survived the dark ages, they’re still parables. Somber destroyed the world that existed before him.”
“In the story, they were fighting to the death and one of them was willing to destroy the world to win. It was a war for survival, fought for every mortal pony. What was lost is a small price for the entire world. Even if there is a grain of truth to that myth. The end of the age of heroes for a world without eternal night, or eternal sun. Whatever the case, it’s all moot. There will be no war. No war until it’s too late.” Perm continued eating as his brother sat there shocked. It was like somepony had lit a flare right in front of his muzzle. After a moment or two, everypony who had been paying attention lost interest. Even if they didn’t seem to quite as cheery or calm as they had been at the start. But Principal had taken the time to drain his glass and motion for another…

“-Happening,” I said without thinking. It felt really good to use my own vocal cords after that experience. My shook my entire body as I watched Rose open his eyes in front of me. His horn was still lightly touching me, and I could feel his breath against my muzzle. After I was pretty sure that I was in control of my body I took a moment to look outside his window. Pretty fucking dark outside.
“Wow,” Rose finally spoke up as he gave me a dumbfounded look. It didn’t really work for a smart stallion. He took a deep breath before shaking his head. “I have so many questions. But we can keep going through your dreams; you said you’ve been having these dreams for about a year?”
“Y-yeah,” I let out. I really didn’t want to go back in. The dreams had lost a lot of their colour. “When I dreamed that, I wasn’t able to think my own thoughts as it happened.” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice. That had been claustrophobic, or paraly-
“You felt trapped?” He asked the question, but I could see in his face that it was rhetorical.
“Trapped is an understatement,” I responded. It was late, and whatever that was, it wasn’t sleep.
“It gets the easier the more that you do it. Some memories can actually be relaxing,” Rosetta said before letting out a yawn. Something told me that doing that spell was pretty exhausting. Though there was a glint in his eye as he told me about the good parts of the experience.
“Maybe for you, I mean I personally find rigging explosives up kinda relaxing. But I’m not sure if you’d ever enjoy it like I do.” I half glanced to my own flank as I told him that. Ponies are lucky, we know what we’re here to do pretty early in life. We have our whole lives to get better at it. It just happened that my destiny involved an explosion of shrapnel.
“That would explain your cutie mark,” his eyes glanced over at my flank. Not for the first time though.
“Yeah,” I said simply before looking him in his eyes. My hoof came to rest on his shoulder, something that we both linked to Perm’s brother right after I did it. “He’s a broken pony, I know the type. Hell, like you said, we’re the only ones that can really understand each other. But, I’m worried he’s hiding something. Something you build a set lie to protect isn’t usually good for the ponies you’re deceiving-”
“He’s grieving Icepick, for a lot of things. Things he’s only willing to hint at. As much as I want answers, I’m not gonna try to rip them out of him. I don’t feel like he’s an imminent threat to anyone else. Judging from the memory, I’d be more worried at an attempt at his own life.” He stopped speaking and looked down. The thought of Perm putting a bullet through his brain hurt. Even at his most annoying I wouldn’t want… that.
“I don’t know, Rose, when he talked about using that weapon he seemed a little threatening. You haven’t even seen him fight, Rose. He masks it with technique, but he enjoys it,” Rose’s muzzle barely moved as he listened to me. I could tell that his mind was already set.
“For a pony that just got out of a war and mourning like he is, attaching himself to the idea of another war isn’t surprising. I suspect the fighting is just him enjoying the feeling of adrenaline, of killing, it makes him feel something. Icepick, before anything else, he’s a hurting pony. Even if he’s elusive and his coping mechanisms are in no way healthy.” He stopped for a moment and moved a hoof through my mane. My head pressed into his hoof lightly, all by itself. I just stayed quiet and waited for him to finish. Sometimes that’s all a stallion wants to do.
“Icepick, if you can be brought back from the brink, then he should get a chance too. Frankly, if anypony can help him out, it’s you.” I blew into his face as he said that.
“Part of me wants to help him, that thinks he’s becoming less of an asshole, that’s getting attached to him. Another part knows that he’s hiding something bad. It figures that I’m just getting used to his assholeness, or he’s just acting nicer to get on my good side.”
Rosetta pulled himself closer and nuzzled against my neck as I- Just let my feelings out, spilling my guts like a fucking teenaged filly to her pillow.
“Underneath all that pain and grief, he’s basically a good stallion,” he said before pulling away and moving towards the pillowed end of this bed. With a pull his magic flipped up the sheets and he shimmied his body under them. “I would tell him the same about you. Now, before you ask, we’re both exhausted and this bed can fit two ponies easily.” I was way ahead of him, and was already halfway under the covers.
“Good stallion,” I told him as a yawn was pushing out of my chest. Rose puffed up at being called a good stallion. “Well, goodnight, Rose.”
“G-get some sleep Icepick,” Rosey said, his voice uncertain. How could a bit of flirting still make him nervous. Yet, he could stay professional in the face of a stallion saying balefire could save the world? Ehh, gotta roll with it, Icey. “You know, for the record, this bed could fit three ponies.” He just pretended not to hear me as he flicked off the remaining lights. Whatever, even in the dark I knew he was blushing.
I smiled at that thought. The kind stallion next to me, who had helped me, who had turned down a rut… It was nice being close to a pony I-

Maybe I was just getting used to sleeping with a pony next to me. Maybe a part of me liked having stallions I had feelings for sleep with me-

To Be Alone With You: Part II (XI)

I was woken by the creaking of a cabinet. The windows were open, allowing a sliver of light to peek through. I yawned before sitting up and looking for Rosetta. I spotted him by his dresser as he threw on his lab coat and other doctor things. As he stopped to toss a stethoscope and a pouch of hard candies into his bag, he turned to look back at me, greeting me with a curt smile.
“Sorry, I have to go look at an oil worker’s leg, inoculate a foal, and give one of the constables a checkup…” he sighed.
“You don’t need to apologize, Rose, you’ve got shit to do. Helpful shit, not pencil pusher shit,” I said as I felt my body start to wake up.
“I realize, it’s why I chose to be a doctor.” The confident tenor in his voice had returned. I leaned back and sprawled across the pillow like a snow wendigo.

“Must’ve been nice.”

“What? Choosing my profession? I still had to show an aptitude,” he replied as he straightened himself out in the mirror. I could tell he was watching me, cute flank facing me or not. “Icepick, I don’t know what you’ve been told your whole life, but you will always have more choices than you think you do. You can always do more for other other ponies and yourself.” He turned to face me.

“Things are different for us. I was born a Ranger, and no matter what happens, I’ll die one. Doesn’t give me a lotta choice,” I finished. He then made his way over to the side of the bed, before bending his head down.

“That may be, but right here, right now, you’ve got some choices. The first one that comes to mind is Permittivity. Did sleeping help sort out your feelings?” His tone was curious, eyes alert despite the dark rings under them.

“I-I guess. Give him the benefit of the doubt, be supportive, ya know. That kinda touchy-feely stuff. If only to see if a mentally healthy Perm is less of an asshole-” I saw Rosetta frown at that last bit, and quickly corrected myself. “I know what you’re going to say, ‘don’t kick a pony when their down’, and ‘you’re the closest one to him’, so I guess I’ll go easy on him-”

“Well, first of all, I don’t sound like that,” he interrupted, “and second, if you want to be more than that cutie mark, the first step would be to help out a pony who needs it.” I bit my lip when he mentioned my mark, and dropped my gaze. It took a moment before I could respond.

He cracked a smile. “You’re challenging me, aren’t you?”

“Of course you’d think of self-improvement like that,” he laughed.

“What’s that suppose to m-” I started to say, before he leaned in to plant a kiss on my forehead. I’m ashamed to admit that my heart skipped a beat when he did, not that I didn’t want something more after I processed what he’d done…

“I...I have to go, Icepick. It was wonderful having you over, and I look forward to seeing you again,” he blurted as he turned tail and made for the door. He literally couldn’t get any pinker!

“Bye, Rosie!” I yelled as the door closed after him.. The sun was starting to rise above the horizon now. It might’ve have been the stunning view, it might’ve been the smile spreading across my muzzle, and it could’ve been my mind thinking over what he’d said … but I knew it was gonna be good day.

The usual activity of the town was subdued early in the morning. My nose smelled breakfasts being cooked in homes, and the food wagons that were catering to the returning and departing oil ponies weren’t helping either. I was tempted to see if they’d feed the pretty mare who wandered out of the desert, but I decided against it.
Pretty soon, I arrived at the little inn Perm and I were lodged at. The moment I walked up the ramp to get into the place I saw Perm trotting towards exit. He paused for half a second before he recognized me
“You wanna get some chow?” I asked him after he stopped in the doorway.
“That is an interesting way of saying good morning,” Perm said sternly before smiling slightly. “I intended to do so anyway.” I snorted as he walked down the ramp.

“One of the wagons two blocks down smelled really good,” I told him. Perm was wearing all his equipment that hadn’t been stuffed into the storage crate alongside my armour, other than the helmet. His mane seemed to be sticking out on one side more than the other, while his eyes habitually took in as much of his surroundings as possible. He also smelled like ozone and sweat, which is something I can’t say I hate…

“Um... Icepick, it would be appreciated if you pointed us in that direction of the aforementioned food cart,” he spoke up just as I caught myself staring at him. Of course, he was almost eye level with me, half a hoof taller than Rosetta.

Fuck.

“Just follow me,” I said in annoyance, mostly to myself. What is this place doing to me? What are the stallions doing? I looked back towards him. “Aren’t you going to ask me about where I was?”

“I could ask you the exact same question,” Perm shot back, half snide, half playful, and roughly nudged my shoulder before I could say anything.

“I would’ve done that!” He seemed momentarily startled by my volume, and he flinched a bit before his grin came back in full.

“Alright, I spent the evening talking with some of the ponies here. I listened to their stories and took in the tapestry that those stories created. Upon completing that, I walked the outskirts of the town and thought about what it all meant, how strange it was… that I was the first of my people to discover experience it. I can’t recall when exactly I decided to trot back, but the night was certainly swayed me to do so. I love the night gusts, they remind me-” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him peek at me, and did so every few seconds. He wanted to see if I liked his words.

“Of home?”, I replied, nudging his shoulder playfully.. My interruption confused him for a moment.

“Yes, how did you know?” At this point I could tell when he was biting his cheek, even if he was trying to hide his suspicion.

“You said that you were from the north right? Northern areas are colder.” He nodded.

“That is quite astute of you,” Permittivity said to me as I nudged him harder. “Hey, I complimented you!”

“I apologize, it’s merely my automatic reaction at this moment in time,” I said mockingly before cracking up, snorting and laughing as I watched for Perm’s reaction. His expression seemed to somehow go from offended to annoyed and back to normal in the span of two seconds. From the corner of my eye, I could see a few ponies watching us.Most of them smiled at us. It wasn’t weird to be smiled at, but there were also hints of amusement in their eyes.. Oh, oh!

“Fuckin’ cut that shit out then!” He shot back, trying to stupidly copy my way of talkin’. I snorted and bumped my hip against him. He chuckled a bit before going back to his normal way of talking came back, and smiled in that way I liked. Wait wha- “How was your evening?” he asked.

“I ate at Rosetta’s place. We talked for hours and when we realized how late it was, we both passed out,” I responded. As I watched his face, I realized that a part of me wanted him to be annoyed by it.

“That’s wonderful, I take it you learned more about the large city that’s our next stop? Paradise was the name, correct?” Perm asked me with interest, he seemed happier to ask me about this than when I finished his sentence.

“Yeah, he told me about it,” I half mumbled as I kept my head facing forward.

“That’s good. I can’t imagine that he would have the chance to give us a tour, as much as we’d like that.” He didn’t seem to notice. Did he just assume that I didn’t do anything with Rosetta, or did he and just not mind?

“It’ll be… nice to see a whole city full of Equestrians living like this,” I added.

“Are you feeling alright? Did you sleep poorly?” He asked me with concern in his voice. I mean, I did have a lot to think about the night before. Still, why was he being so fucking nice?
“Wha-no,” I looked him in the eyes. They were bright as always, even in the muted colors of dawn. I had always hated that about him, but if he was a nice stallion under it all, maybe I could like it. I shook my head and bumped him again. “Just hungry.”
“If you want me to escort you back to the suite, I can always come back with food for you,” Perm asked me softly, a frown forming on his lips. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of in being ill, especially in the presence of a population you’ve never had prior contact with-”
“Stop, stop. Perm, did someone slip you a pleasantness potion or something, this is weird,” I said to him before immediately regretting it.
“I-Icepick,” he grimaced at me before stopping once again. “If you want some reason, I’ll be perfectly frank: I did some thinking last night. I realized that you’ve become a friend to me, and that I should be better to my friends. Not only because I have so very few, but because my own personal demons shouldn’t be imposed on those around me. Is that a satisfactory?” He scowled at me as I stopped and spun to face him.
I stood there for a moment. My muscles tensed up as I felt his eyes meeting mine, he wasn’t the kind to back down, I was the same way. But I had started the stupid scene. I had ruined something because I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that he could act better right after I promised to be nicer to him. Was I trying to sabotage myself? All of those words with Rose, all that time feeling trapped in another pony's body, wasted? My breath hitched and I felt a need to act. I took the few steps needed to get muzzle to muzzle with him…

He was as surprised as I was when I wrapped a foreleg around him. Perm nearly yelped as I hugged him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered in his ear. His mane was pressing against my head and that silly scarf thing he wore was rubbing against my neck. I could feel my heart beating way faster than it should’ve been. A moment later he put his foreleg around my neck. The morning was chill. He was anything but. Perm pulled me closer, my chest pressing into his. I heard him draw a deep breath.
“I know,” he whispered into my ear. Perm’s words were punctuated by warm breath that tickled my ear, and when my ear flicked and bopped his muzzle he laughed nervously. Maybe he was realizing finally just how weird this was for us. That as much as we had both pushed each other away, and tried to get closer… this was the closest we had ever been. Other than the time we had gone hoof to hoof. When I thought of that, just a few hours ago really, I frowned. He was the only pony I knew here, and I had clocked him. I’m mare enough to admit that I pulled him closer when I thought about that moment. So, I was standing on a street hugging the stallion that I had more feelings about than any other for three hundred kilometers, my stomach rumbling, but I felt my comfortable then than I had since... Since I had left Reflex in his hospital bed.

“I didn’t know y’all were a couple,” a pony with a familiar voice spoke up from behind me. We let go of each other and I turned to face the pony. It was the mare that had spotted us walking in, Copper something. I glanced at Perm, he was staring a hole into her head.
“Incorrect: we were friends having a moment,” Perm told her slowly, like he was talking to a slow foal. I didn’t know what to think, having him close had been nice… and now he was giving shit to an annoying mare. I could get behind Perm being an asshole to annoying ponies. A part of me realized that I was the same way to annoying shits, he might even like that about me-
“Okie dokie, I didn’t mean to bother y’all,” She said to him with a drained expression. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, I thought as I kicked a bit of sand with a forehoof. But I saw on Perm’s muzzle his train of thought. He lost the sneer and it shifted to a frown.
“I apologize. Actually, I forgot to thank you for giving us a chance to explain ourselves,” he actually smiled at her. Then he stepped up and offered a hoof to her.

“Oh I know how ponies are before brekkie, don’t think nothing of it. I’m sure you’d do the same for me,” Copper replied chirpily before grasping his hoof and shaking it. “I just thought that y’all were cute together, is all,” she smiled at us both. Her words put a pleasant feeling in me, I mean she probably wasn’t wrong- No, just because we had a nice moment or two, or because Perm was being a better buck didn’t mean I wanted to be with him. I wasn’t falling for this place’s culture so quickly!

“Thanks Copper, and you’re right about the breakfast thing. Perm and I were on our way to grab some,” I walked up to them as I spoke, before gently nudging him again.

“Seize the day, Copper,” Perm said to her before dropping her hoof and waving goodbye. “Though, I must leave, the lady desires sustenance,” He finished just as I slugged him in the shoulder. Copper’s eyes opened in surprise before seeing Perm smile at me, and my fake scowl.

“I gotta go to muh shift,” her voice sounded sad for a second she started again. “And I know y’all don’t know many ponies here… so if you need an extra pony at your wedding, hit me up,” Her shit eating grin could’ve matched any of mine. And I barely have to tell you that she skipped off laughing under her breath.

A few seconds later Perm sat on his rump and rubbed his shoulder with his other hoof. “A little harder than necessary, I might add.”
“Shush,” I said to him before shaking my head at him. Still, a moment later I offered a hoof to him as he got back to his hooves. “Besides, I gotta keep up appearances.”
“Barbarian,” he shot back, before starting getting even with me again and bumping me with his hips. “Lead the way,” Perm said as I felt his tail run against my hind just long enough for it to seem intentional.
“Until you’ve survived a night with me, you don’t get to call me a barbarian,” I said with a grin. He blanched just before I flicked my tail over his foreleg. Right before I started trotting. I watched him shake his head before going into a trot to catch up with me again… Getting each other flustered is what friends are supposed to do?

I checked the clock on the wall of the little saloon they had here. Perm was off doing something, he mentioned something about checking the towns generators and transmission lines. That was hours ago though, and well, other than meeting him at Rosey’s place at nine-ish, I had time to burn. As I looked down at the pint in front of me I realized that this wasn’t a bad thing. How the fuck had this happened? Around me were ponies that I could speak with, they looked the same as the Rangers I had grown up with. Well, they didn’t walk like us, and I don’t think half of them could pass a basic physical training test…
“You like it miss?” The Barstallion said to me after he finished pouring a round for a couple oil ponies at the other end of the bar.
“It’s got a pretty nice finish to it, and it’s pretty smooth. But to be honest, it’s weaker than I’m used to. Good for a meal though,” I told the bar stallion. He looked about middle aged, his fur a bit patchy and his mane receding. The stallion reminded me of a supply knight I knew back in Ramsgard.
“Interesting, this the first beer you’ve had up here?” Perm would’ve said something about long lost cultural cousins, or something. Doesn’t matter what words you used or how you phrased it, there was always a low kind of curiosity in the air. I was an outsider. I could see it on their faces when I bit into their food, or asked tried talking to them about little things…
“Ayep, you got other kinds?” My eyes followed to the handles that dispensed the beer from pressurized drums.
“Lot’s,” He said automatically, before shaking his head slightly and speaking again. “Not as many as the big bars in Paradise, but we have some variety.”
“I think I understand,” I told him before taking another drink. “I’ll be going to a couple of those, but this will be the first one I went to,” My eyes fixed his.
“Miss, you came in from the south, right?” The Barpony asked as he leaned back against the counter.
“You know the Gilache river? Most of the Rangers and our tenants are around there, so pretty much south of here,” I told him as he spun around to pour another beer for a pony a couple stools away from me.

“I think I’ve seen it on a pre-war map before. That’s a hell of a journey Miss,” the barstallion faced me again, and rubbed his chin for a second. “Tenants? Aren’t all of y’all descendants of the Rangers that were based down there?”

“No, I’m a descendant of the original army sent down there to pacify the native Arabians. We survived the balefire winter. But so did most of the Arabians. A lot of them live in the cities and work in the factories or other industries, but most of them live out along the floodplain and work the land like they have since Luna got banished.”

“Why do you call them Tenants, do they rent the land they farm?” His muzzle was bent in confusion, bordering on anger.

“Basically. So, the deal is: the Arabians work the land and we’ll defend them from bandits and give them assistance. More tools, fertilizer, vaccines, the fruits of civilization. In exchange we take a portion of what they grow to feed the cities and all the Rangers in the more isolated posts.” This random stallion who ran a little shop in the middle of bumfuck nowhere was giving staring through me. What was he thinking-

“Miss, that sounds an awful lot like slavery,” my drink suddenly seemed a lot more interesting right then. “If I’m reading you right. Am I, miss?”

“There weren’t many of us when the rest of the world went dark. Up until a few days ago, I knew that we were the only Equestrians left. For the last hundred years, we’ve been rebuilding Equestria with nothing but some suits of armour and grit.” I told him as I downed the rest of the glass. My first instinct had been to tell him it was less like slavery, and more like serfdom… After a few moments of silence the bar pony slid another mug over to me.

“I don’t think you’re lying to me, even if it’d save face,” he sighed and told me his name. A hoof shake later and he was back to filling other ponies beers, pouring some shots of the harder stuff, and closing out a few ponies. I sat there sipping at the bitter beer, thinking about things. He didn’t understand the difference between Equestrians, and Arabians. He didn’t know what they would do to cause problems for us, or how many other Arabians they would kill in the process… Equestrians made sense, we had logic and reason, our scribes experimented, engineered and built. I mean hell, Rangers didn’t have half the bravery the insurgents had. I’d be the first one to tell anyone that. But that didn’t make them ready to run things all by themselves. Before we arrived Arabians had been killing each other with swords...

“You like that beer more?” This is where I tell you I can’t remember what his name was. Still, he had asked me a question and brought me back to reality.

“It’s a little rougher, less hoppy, so… it reminds me of home,” I told him bluntly.

“Right,” there was a pause as he picked up a glass and began holding it to the counter with one hoof, and polishing it with the other. “So, how’d you get up here anyway, if you don’t mind me asking.” I took a big gulp as my muscles tightened, I hadn’t thought about the drive up to the Mine, or the battles when we got there. When I spent all my time thinking about Perm’s lies, or Rosey’s smile, or their sheaths- I could forget about recent history, for awhile.

“Long story short: A bunch of us were sent far to the north, after intelligence found out the source of small arms and explosives that were being used to kill ponies. We found a number of Insurgent fighters on a northern road, we engaged them, and killed most of them. I took a prisoner though, he spoke Equestrian, had a different feel than the rest of them. I interrogated him. He gave us the location of a weapons cache, big old mine even further north, way further north than we had ever intended to go.” Fuck, this was going to be my debrief, half of it anyway. This stallion kept his frown in check, he didn’t look like he was feeling anything, all you could tell was that he was listening. “It was a trap. We wanted- we wanted to just go in there, stomp on some yokels and get back to our racks as soon as we could.” I looked down.

I felt like I had done this before- No, that was Perm. Someone down at the other end of the bar burped loudly. That was different at least. Half of my muzzle broken into a smile. “We dispersed to clear the mines, big mistake. When they attacked, the group I was leading got attacked. One of us died right there. I told the rest to go and detonate that entrance to the mines. I went on ahead, trying to slow them down-”

“That was brave of you,” he told me patiently. I laughed.

“It was stupid. By any fucking metric, I should be dead. But, I’m not, for some reason. So, there I was alone and trying to get as many of them as possible. Keep em’ from pursuing the rest of us through the other entrances. Eventually, I came into a big room, and I pretty much stumbled into a group of three, in the dark. It was a standoff, even if they had most of the cards. I thought I was fucked, and I was ready to bring the whole room down on us. I think that was what I wanted, one hell of an end, right?”

The clocked ticked above his head, still more time to kill. When I looked up to finished the mug I realized he had walked away. A good thing. I fished in one of the pockets in my undersuit, I pulled some of the coins out and dropped them on the counter. When I dropped out of the stool, my hooves pounded the floor. It was still an hour ‘til I was supposed to meet them, but I couldn’t stand this place. Somehow this fucker had gotten my mind back to that time. That moment.

I looked back when I got to the door- he was still making drinks for a bunch of stained oil ponies who had just gotten in. He was being polite, he hadn’t really wanted to know. No pony ever wanted the real story, everypony just wanted to hear pleasant things, the things that left them alone. Pleasantries. The door swung shut behind me. I didn’t belong in this place, with these ponies. That stallion was going to tell them all about us, that we enslave, that we oppress, and all from the safety of bumfuck nowhere.

These ponies had it so easy. If they were even half as numerous as Rose said they were, they could have foals with whoever they wanted, and only a tiny fraction of a them ever had to serve in the security forces. What did they have to fear? Fucking nothing.

I walked the path to Rosey’s place with a glare on my muzzle, if I had to sit in the waiting room until he was done with the day, well, I’d fucking do it. Better than talking to these ponies. The Bar wasn’t far from his place, and I hadn’t eaten anything after breakfast today, so I was starting to feel a bit better. It didn’t matter, I was fine, I had a job to do…

I pushed the door open, I guess walk-ins were a thing. No bell went off or anything like that though. Maybe these ponies just didn’t lock their doors during the day.

My head shook as I looked to the examination room. Empty. Was he done with the day? Had he left to get groceries or something? Wait. My ears spun towards the door of his bedroom. I could hear ponies saying something. So, Rosey was talking to somepony.

It took a second to trot over there, my breaths were low, buzzed me wanted to hear what they were saying. Maybe Rosey had a cute pony in there and he was chatting them up… I wonder if they’d let me join in. My mind wandered a bit as I imagined a threesome with Rose, or some other pony. Then I was at the door. I turned my head and laid an ear softly against the door. Hearing isn’t my greatest skill, it turns out blasting things open at the minimum safe distance isn’t good in the long term.

“I know, I know. She can lash out, and I knew just from looking at her that she buries feelings. Every feeling of alienation, inadequacy and guilt, it’s all pushed down deep. It’s not ever her fault, if half of what she’s told us about where she’s from is true then well… I’m surprised she’s as well adjusted as she is,” Rosey said plaintively. Yeah, he’s talking to someone’s friend, and this is pretty fucking personal- I was half a heart beat from walking away when I heard the other voice speak.

“I’m in no shape to help another pony. Not that I lack empathy for one such as yourself, healers do they best they can. But I’m no healer, I’m a scientist and a traveller at best, and a killer at worst.” Permittivity sighed as he paused.

“If you can imagine yourself in my place, what’s stopping you from trying to help her. She needs support, and you’re the only one she has any attachment to out here. And I’ve said it before Permittivity, you can empathize with her, you know what-”

“To what? Take lives, lose loved ones, to wish for an end? To attempt to hasten that end? Those things I can soldier through. It’s the moments of quiet, the embrace, those moments that normal ponies feel… I know that these things are fleeting. Every bond with another person can be broken in an instant, a stroke of chance.” His voice picked up.

“Say that all you like, but I’ve seen how you look at her. She means something to you,” Rose countered as I stood there wondering what he meant by that. “Look, I barely know either of you, but I know that at base you’re both good ponies. I’m not asking you to throw your life down, or even doing anything that you’re deeply uncomfortable with. Icepick is going through a hard time. She’s never been around ponies that weren’t like her-”

“She has no idea who birthed her, nevermind who sired her, the idea that ponies here have foals together, of their volition. It’s unsettling to her. All she knows is her society, endlessly martial, though not needlessly. I’ve seen her opponents, lived among them, if only briefly… They have something to fight for, to free themselves from under the hoof of the Rangers.”

“Maybe all of that is true, maybe everything is going to drive her to drink or worse, maybe she was already straining under the stresses of her role and what she’s seen. None of that matters, you want the best for her, you don’t want her hurting herself, or even hurting at all. I know you have feelings for her. A blind pony can see that.” I didn’t want to believe him. I wasn’t the right kind of pony for that stuff. I was Icepick, the big mare, good in a fight or a rut, but I was just that. I wanted to scream that he was messing everything up, that I was having to really think about things for the first time since I walked back from that little village along the Gilache. Or the time I was a captive-

“I know you’re afraid of attachment, but so is she. That’s why you’ve been fighting.”

“And so what if I am afraid of getting ‘attached’ to a mare I hardly know, one who oscillates between violence and intimacy,” I could hear him scoff through the door, even as I thought about what he said. My forehead pressed against the door and my eyes shut as I realized he was right. I couldn’t control myself, I had always been that way. Whatever healthy is, I’m not-

“She would do it for you.”

“I doubt that.”

“If she knew that you were in dark place-”

“Enough, I know what state she’s in, I know that she’s all too willing to throw herself upon the sword.”

“So what’s your hang-up then, you already seem committed to helping her as best you can,” Rosetta spoke up.

“I-I, I’m not sure, frankly. A part of me doubts my ability to help anyone, another thinks that it’s all a fool’s errand, that time and effort could be better spent elsewhere. But, those are excuses!” Permittivity stopped, drew a sharp breath and started again.

“I understand, I’m not oblivious to my own inner machinations,” Perm sighed and I could hear a creak from the chair. “That wasn’t an answer.”
A minute passed, then another, all the while I heard nothing but silence from the room. In one of the corners, the gearing of a clock clicked along reminding me of when I was supposed to arrive. I half expected the door to swing open and the stallions to give me some really shitty looks.
“Fine: I swear that I will render aid, and help her find peace, as much as anyone can have peace after-” Perm stopped and let out a breath. “We should greet her at the door.”
“Thank you. You won’t regret this,” Rosetta said as he pulled himself from the chair. I pulled myself away, my stomach churning at eavesdropping on my friends. In spite of that, I made my way out the door and pretended that I had just gotten to the entrance. Perm opened the door and spotted me standing behind the door.

“You got here early,” I said to him as I trotted back into the sitting area. In my peripheral vision I saw Rosetta enter from behind Perm and give me a smile when he saw me.

“I’m all manner of things,” Perm frowned for a second before shifting his eyes up to mine, “The least of which is being punctual.” He beamed as he said this. I caught the shift in his eyes and the tensing in his neck.

“Hey, now that you’re here, I’ll get the water boiling,” I watched Rosetta as he spun around and trotted into his kitchen. I stepped forward and closed the door with nudge, as Perm took and released a deep breath. He was thinking about what he promised our host-

“Are you okay, you seem tense,” I asked him when I got in front of him.
“You’re right. Sometimes, I let my accumulated burdens fill my mind. I become calm as I try to focus on what needs to be done next. He merely brought them to mind,” his eyes crossed for a moment before frowning at me. “Did you drink before coming here?”
“Perm, you don’t need to worry, once we get back to Ramsgard, things will be easy street.” He softened at that, a little.

“You’re aren’t any less of a pessimist than me, yet you sound so confident about the future,” he sighed, and the hint of a smile showed on his muzzle.

“Being buzzed helps,” he shook his head before turning towards Rosey’s kitchen.

“Typically ponies ascribe their faults to alcohol,” he brushed past me, running his shoulder against mine a little too hard for it to be accidental. “Not their merits.”

“I like to think that things will work out in the end, even if I can’t see how they will. This though, all we need to do is get to Ramsgard, and watch as the insurgency is decapitated. We’ll be heroes with just a bit more walking from A to B.”

“Statues raised in our honour?” He said to me, lips curling into a smile as he watched me.

“Yeah,” I smiled back and stepped closer. For once he wasn’t covering his body in cloth, his fur gleamed softly in the yellow light. His muzzle was right in front of mine. Perm’s warm breath brushed against my cheek-

“Will these statues be beside each other?” I watched his ear flick as he asked that, lips opening a bit, and his voice getting a little more husky. Damn the Torpedoes, there was a stallion right in front of me! I could deal with this part, I lived for this part! My foreleg lifted and rested on his shoulder. Perm looked at me, his eyes widened and his shoulder tensed… He had just opened his mouth to speak before the sound of the door opening caught both of our attentions.

“I-uh, what kinda noodles do you want? The long stringy ones, or the bendy tube kind?” Rosetta said to us halfway in the room, half out, with his ears flicked down.

“The Bendy ones,” I said to him as I let my leg fall to the ground once again.

“I-I concur,” Permittivity responded after clearing his throat.

“Alright, they’ll be done pretty soon,” Rosetta rubbed the back of his head with a hoof before cracking a smile. “The noodles, I mean.” For a moment we all exchanged glances with one another. Perm was chewing his lip, eyes moving between mine and Rosetta’s with deliberation. My eyes locked on his. What was he feeling? I turned my head to watch Rosetta step backwards out of the room.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re getting into,” he said to me.

“I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” I shot back.

“If only that were the case.” He looked away before sighing.

“You say shit like that, and never qualify it!” I tilted my head at him and squinted at him.

“I like being around you Icepick, we’re… Kindred spirits. However, I hesitate to commit to any sort of courtship-” I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off. “-Say that it’s just fulfilling a sexual need and I’ll call you a liar. You’re a normal pony, it’s the odd ones that don’t feel any attachment. You’re exceptional in a lot of ways, but not in that one.” He sighed as he finished, there was a frown plastered on his muzzle.

“So,” I shot back. I stared him down and took a deep breath, my muzzle didn’t close. “It’s- I’m not angry that you won’t give me a chance. Fuck, I’m angry that you aren’t giving yourself one. Shit, I know you’re scared. Hell, I don’t even know what you ponies think a kiss means. But, I see some of these ponies, they look content, and a lot of them are with someone.”

“I’ve given myself many such tries, and each leaves me more broken than the one before. If it was their fault, if it wasn’t a self-inflicted wound then I would be all manner of happy to give us a chance. The sad truth is that I’m not built for one. I’m exceptionally good at ruining a good thing, Icepick… If I truly thought you wouldn’t be hurt in the process, I would’ve met that kiss in a heartbeat. Perhaps in time-” He pressed a hoof to my shoulder as I opened my mouth to interrupt.

“I heard you talking to him. About me. About fixing me, bringing me out of my shell. I fucking hated hearing that. Because it sounded a lot like those crazy thoughts you get when you’re tired or feeling like shit. Like the thoughts that keep me up at night- Perm, he said the same things to me, asked me to help you. All I know is, we’ve fought a lot, we’ve disagreed… You’ve made me laugh though, and fuck, it’s easier to fall asleep with you close. If that isn’t something-”

“It’s easier this way, Icepick, I left my people for a reason, more than fame or glory, recognition, or any plan for immortality, I went away because I couldn’t stand the person that I was. For now, our goals overlap. I have a purpose.
But, don’t mistake the person I seem to be for someone you would ever want to love. I’ll try to be a better pony, and you’ve already helped me a great deal-”

“Whatever. I know you think I can’t handle the outside world, that I can’t deal with your dark and troubled past-” My eyes rolled as I said that. “That I don’t know who you are. If I didn’t know who you were, I wouldn’t have trusted you. If you didn’t prove to me that you mean well, that you cared for me, I never would’ve gotten this close to you.”

“I was afraid you would say that.” Permittivity sighed. “Ponies are complicated, Icepick. I can have the seeds of love for you, I can be watered and in a temperate climate, sometimes all the factors are there and yet the produce is withered beyond recognition. Do you want the truth, Icepick? I don’t think I deserve a relationship. I don’t deserve you. I consciously destroyed the last relationships I was in. I loved them, and they loved me back. Suffice it to say that I’m less than the ideal candidate for love-”

“I don’t know the first fucking thing about what you call love,” I poked him in the shoulder with a hoof. “But if it’s what you’re talking about then they’re pretty shitty ponies to just break things off, if they really wanted to be with you.”

“I-I have my doubts about that-” The sound of a rifle shot in the distance caught our ears. Perm tensed and eyed the far corner of the room. His saddlebags were sitting there. I caught his eyes.

“No.” I stomped my hoof against the floor.

“Accidental discharge?” He asked, right before a second shot followed it.

“Fuck!”

“You heard that, right?” Rosetta said as he ran into the room.

“Icepick isn’t that deaf,” Perm said as he levitated his bag over to us, he unzipped the pockets and shook the contents onto the floor. There were solid clunks as junk hit the floor, but every useful thing was surrounded in his glacier-blue magic.

“I need to get to my armour,” I told the two of them. Permittivity nodded without looking-

“What are we going to do? What’s the plan?” Rosetta asked, breathing quickly, eyes darting from mine to Perm’s.

“They wouldn’t attack a town if they didn’t have the numbers on their side.” I yelled at him as I picked my jumpsuit off the ground and started putting it on. The sounds of a larger firefight echoed through the building.

“The radio transmitter,” I butted in. “Rosetta, can you zip a girl up?”

“That will be a tempting target, but it’s in the center of town,” Perm said in a low voice. “We can try to get a message out, if one isn’t already being sent,” he turned to face Rosetta. “What is the town contingency plan?”

“We don’t have one, why would we? Who are you talking about?”

“Some Arabian fucks, followed us across the Celestia damned desert.” This town is fucked, but if I could make it to my armour we could get away…

“How many guardsponies does this town have?” Perm was throwing his plating on, his rifle was sitting on the ground beside him.

“Not many,” Rosetta said as we heard the crackle of gunfire pick up. Someone was firing an automatic weapon now. “They’ll try to keep the sheriff’s office safe, half the town will be heading there.”

“Okay, Perm and I will head to the storage container, so I can get armoured up and-”

“No, we don’t have time. I’ll head with Rosetta to the radio station, after we’ve sent the message, we’ll head to the Sheriff's office.”

“I still don’t understand why they’re here, why would they attack us?” Rosetta shook as he asked us this.

“Because we came here,” Permittivity said to him.

“Because you’re Equestrians.” My voice lowered. Permittivity scowled at me, before looking at the floor.

“I-I…” Rosetta muttered before nodding. Perm racked his rifle and jammed his sidearm into his holster. “I’ve never fired a gun before, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be.”

“You can triage, go grab what you need as quickly as you can, I’ll be by the door,” Perm said to him before heading to the door.

I followed him, consciously taking deep breaths and holding them.

The moment we stepped into the darkened streets he turned and looked me in the eyes. “How bullet resistant is this armour?”

“That’s what you ask me, right now?” I glared at him.

“That wasn’t an answer, besides it’s best not to dwell on such things,” as he spoke we both heard more gunshots from the west, they were getting closer.

“It’ll probably stop most rifle rounds if they’re not point blank or tungsten cored. I just- we brought this on, you know?”

“We can’t change the past, and giving ourselves up wouldn’t necessarily spare the town, as you said before this is an ethnic conflict as much as it is one about us in particular-” He said before I threw my legs around him. We both stumbled back before coming to a stop.

“Yeah, yeah, justify it as much as that brain lets you. We’re both terrible ponies-” he lost some of that tension as he got into the hug. “And I know you plan on it, but really, don’t die. I’d be the only one who could give you a funeral speech and I’d throw so many expletives in it…”

“I don’t like you because you’re eloquent- and it pains me to seperate from you, but I know you’re too stubborn to die. And yes, before you ask, I would use quite a few flowery words at your graveside,” I heard the sound of Rosetta walking through the doorway.
“Good thing that isn’t going to happen-” I started to say before he pushed his lips against mine. After I got over the shock, I pushed back, and pressed my tongue against his closed lips… And it was over after what felt like no time at all. His head pulled back and I was left looking into his eyes for what felt like the first time.
“Hopefully we both live to regret that.” His words were music to my ears. I just rolled my eyes and tapped his helmet with a hoof before falling back to my hooves. I turned and looked over at my shoulder at Rosetta sprinting down to meet Perm.

“That’s the way I’ve lived my entire life,” I yelled in parting.

He shook his head, before forcing himself to grin.

Making my way down the streets I saw ponies peeking out of windows, looking at me but not making any kind of aggressive move. The Arabs seemed to have kept their assault localized to the southern and western parts of the town, which worked for me. Well, it was letting me get to my armour-
A shot rang out and hit the dirt ahead of me. I junked and ran to the nearest wall, bending down to grab my gun with my teeth, I spotted a mare wearing a hard hat and a reflective vest. She had her gun held out to her side in a halo of yellow magic, floating it like that I was surprised she was able to get that shot close to me at all.
“I’m not one of those assholes!” I shouted at her as best as I could with a gun between my teeth. She stopped for a second as after got my body around a corner of the building. “I’m a Ranger, the only thing I’m good at is killing those fucks! Besides, I’d be pretty fucking stupid to get this far all on my own?”
“How do I know you ain’t lyin’-” She mumbled something to herself before speaking again. “Okay, you’re probably right, and you’re prolly a better shot than me. I did hear something about a Mare Ranger being in town. But, where’s your stuff, all your wearin’ is that black jumper?”
“All of it’s in a storage container by the train platform,” I yelled back. “I’m heading there, if I get into it I can give the Arabs a much bloodier nose.”

“Arabs? I thought we just had some desert cult attacking us for our booze,” the mare said back to me. I holstered my gun as she kept going.

“Nope, they wear cloth and speak in a weird language. You wanna come with me, safety in numbers?”

“Yah, ya seem to know what yer doin’. I’m kinda in the dark here muhself,” she said with a sigh as she watched me trot up to her. The Chitter of Gunfire had picked up, and I was pretty sure I could make out the sound of Perm’s rifle.

“It takes all types,” I said back to her even as I screamed internally at this place. Any rational society would have sandbags, or machine-gun towers. Or at minimum some kind of concrete citadel. But no, they had nothing. They better have some better have some kind of Army, or we’ll have to come up here and protect them… I stopped for a second and thought about that for a second. I thought about what Perm had said to me when I had first come here, and my conversation with the barpony. This place had everything the we needed. We don’t know how to deal with equals-

“I’m jus’ glad we have a Ranger in town,” Axis had gotten on my flank and kept up with me as we made our way to the train depot.

“We just try our best to keep ponies safe,” I said as I shook my head and tried to stay vigilant of threats. “That’s the way I think about it. They better not hurt him though,” I said the last couple words under my breath. I heard her take a deep breath after I said that. Maybe that last fight had made my hearing even worse.

“You got your special somepony in town?” She asked giddily…

“Yes- I mean- I think so,” I shot back quickly, uncertain of the term, uncertain about him, and scared of how it could go wrong.

Axis chuckled softly after my shaky reply.

A little while later we arrived at the Container, I pushed the key in the lock and turned. She swung the door open with her magic as soon as the padlock popped open.

“Thanks,”

“No proble-” She had started to say as she cast a light spell with her horn.

When her eyes landed on my armour her expression went blank. Her mouth dropping open was a cute touch. With a flick of my hoof in the right spot and a flash of a talisman I kept on my body the armour whirred to life, the ratcheting open softly.

“I thought you was a Ranger,” her hooves shuffled loudly under her as she spoke.

“Knight Icepick of the Sall’han Steel Rangers,” I told her as I worked myself into the suit. I felt the back close around me, the helmet was sitting on a nearby crate. I hooked a forehoof on the helmet and placed it on my head. I gave it a few degrees of spin to lock it in place, the loud hiss of the overpressure system turning on felt familiar. I took a deep breath and felt normal for once.

“Uh, I- you’re not the kind of ranger that I thought-”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about those Desert Rangers, haven’t met one yet,” I said quickly as I went over all the pre-fight check. Ammunition, okay. Munitions, fully loaded. Armour condition, ninety-eight percent! “We’re late already, guess that makes us the Cavalry.”

They hadn’t tried to flank us, that I could see and hear. Far off I could already see the collateral damage being done to this town. Buildings burning, yells of pain and anger, and the ever loudening sound of gunfire. Those fucks looked like they were gonna raise the town. Tegarni would love that, filling the streets with corpses.

Axis was staying close to the ground, as trying to stay close to the buildings. I had asked her earlier how many magazines she had on her.
Only a spare. “If you wanna stay behind me from here on out, I won’t hold it against you,” I told her simply. We were maybe block away from the sheriff's office now.
“I’ll be close,” she replied. The smoke from the fires was being pushed our way, the wind wasn’t gonna help.
The next few moments were simple enough. I kept my pace from behind and watched for the defenders. I wasn’t sure exactly how to signal to them. I approached down the main road, and the sheriff's building was to the left. I moved down that road, keeping my head low. I was watching for the ponies that were shooting. From the corner of an adjacent building, I spotted a barricade made out of food wagons pushed together and on their side s. It was built up a couple meters to the front of the office. There were ponies peeking over it to take shots at the Arabians who were slowly pushing forward in small groups.
I decided to push around the nearest building and flank. Neither side seemed to have noticed me. Arabians could learn small unit tactics, learn to use radios, but they were never prepared to- Just before I made my way around the corner, I saw Perm in the doorway to the Sheriff’s office. At least he knew how to use concealment. A flash of an explosion near the barricade caught my attention.
Everyone closeby shuddered and writhed as the wounded began to scream and moan, while the ponies that weren’t had to try to hold back the advancing Arabs.
I tore my eyes away and ran around the back, I made it to the front of the shop before turning the corner and running smack into two Arabs. They had only just turned around a moment before, the normal sound of my armour’s servos working drowned out by the ambient gunfire. The closest one of them was clutching a large bag, the other had been taking shots at the office with an automatic weapon.

I bowled into the one with the sack, knocking him to the ground before stomping his barrel with a foreleg. His companion was stunned as I felt the pinned stallions chest collapse under the strength of my armour. The other pony turned around to aim his rifle at me, but just before he had a chance to get killed by his own bullet ricocheting off my armour a shot from behind us caught him in the chest, followed by a second piercing his skull through his left eye.

I looked over my shoulder. Axis was gripping her pistol tightly in her magic, her eyes were locked on the stallion underneath me. He was still trying to breath, his chest cavity was red with blood, and his mouth hung open more blood had forced itself up his esophagus spectling the his lips with red as well.

I stepped up and grasped the bag of with my other hoof. My eyes shot open when they saw the sheer amount of explosives that were in the bag. Plastic explosives, dynamite, an assortment of radio detonators and detonators too. Fuck, what were they planning to do? Blow the town up? Or were they starting to always have sappers come with them?

I moved forward, to the corner eyes searching for anyone that had heard those shots. My sabaton left a bloody trial in the dirt behind me. Bang! I heard another pistol shot from behind me. Axis had pushed the gun against the choking Arabs head and pulled the trigger. This mare had just killed two ponies. Her tan fur glowed like bronze in the firelight, her face was caught in a grimace. She wasn’t thinking about it right now, but she would. When you kill for the first time, you remember everything about it… The ground shook beneath me.

Straight ahead of the barricade, someone had thrown a grenade back at the Arabs. Immediately, they laid down a hail of bullets at the doorway. I made out a scream from inside the building. I turned my guns towards the nearest Arab coward in the shadows. Firing a burst at them, I swear I saw one of them piss himself in fear when he saw me. The second burst caught another of them in the chest.

From the other side of the barricade the shots crept up in their intensity, even as I moved to the other side of the alleyway, a tentative rifle shot struck the wooden beam in front of me. My shots caught him in the chest. Someone hiding in a house further back fired me. They were solid hits against the breastplate, they pinged off the lightly curved surface. I ducked back against the nearest wall. Axis yelled out when she saw me get hit.

“It’s nothing that wouldn’t buff out,” I yelled back at her. Her just flipped her ears down and shook her head. I mean, she couldn’t make out words right then, she’d just had a machine gun fired like a meter away from her, and she wasn’t wearing any ear protection. She’d get the picture. I flicked a small switch on the inside of my helmet. Axis had turned around and started watching the other corner of the building. I watched a line of tracers flow from the same building that I had fired from. I leaned out and watched them fire again.

They were in the bank. It was one of the strongest building in the whole town. Concrete and brick in all the right places. The Arabs had busted out the windows and set up a machine gun in one of them, not a prissy baby machine gun, like a single pony could carry… This was one of those belt fed heavy fucks. And it was tearing through the carts and the building itself. The counterfire was slowing down, as the casualties on our side grew. These Arabs were led by Tegarni, they had pushed the Rangers back, they were the best opponents I had ever traded fire with-

At this point we had maybe a dozen ponies left standing on the barricade and a few more guarding the wings of sheriff’s office. The Arabs outnumbered us. My thoughts were cut off by the rattle of that machine gun. It cranked out another burst of fire, blowing holes through the thick walls of the brick building. But, I knew those rounds would shred me. If I stepped out of my concealment, that gun would cut me down. My breath caught in my throat. If he turned the gun on me, I could die. The blood started pounding in my head as I tried to think of a way out of this. I was paralyzed, remembering the Arab I had chased through Ramsgard and shredded. I would feel it. I would have time to know that I was going to die. Everything was moving so quickly. after a deep breath I began to debate whether to try to move up a building to get more even with them or to wait for them to switch belts-

In the corner of my eye I spotted Perm running out of the building. His horn was glowing brightly but flickering in intensity, with a ring of steady light circling the bottom. The crack of a rifle shot and a puff of upturned dirt near his leg made me start to shake. No, no, no! He ran past the barricade and stopped in his tracks. The machine gun started turning towards him-

A blinding bolt of lightning struck the metal sign on the side of the bank. My visor polarized before I was got hit by the full brightness. I blinked as I heard the firing die down. Even I had an afterimage seared into my eyes. Fuck! I stopped my blinking and moved out of cover. Everyone else, Arab or Equestrian, had a bleary expression on their face, or a was covering their eyes or ears. I just hoped that I had primed it right!
The armour shuddered as the rocket picked up speed in the tube, blowing hot exhaust out behind me. It wasn’t a hard target to hit. I was maybe fifty meters away. Mark Forty-Seven missiles were meant to render zebra war bots and armoured vehicles inoperable. Brick was soft compared to steel, so I had to modify the impact fuse to be more sensitive-

The explosion tore the wall from its foundation; half of it collapsed right then. My eyes shifted towards the other Arabs who were peeking above their concealment. One pushed himself out of his cover and started blowing through his magazine. Another Arab behind him took the chance to run to a position further back, before aiming at us and cracking a shots off. I fired at him and missed my shots, but one of the barricade ponies got caught in his center mass.

I let loose a burst towards one of the side buildings, and another as a pony ran out of the door. They were falling back. I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. Another line of machine gun fire in their general direction, another couple Arabs running with their tails between their legs. It was when I glanced back at the group that I shuddered. Perm was lying crumbled on the ground ahead of the barricade. There was a growing patch of reddened sand around him. I wanted to yell something. He couldn’t just die. If there was any kind of order or sense to the world, the stallion who had popped into my life-

The thud of an explosion made me look away. The top of the sheriff’s office was in pieces, smoke was everywhere. Most of the remaining ponies looked around startled by the explosion from nowhere. Far away I heard a low thump. Another explosive fell in the middle of the ponies. Everyone holed up behind the barricade was knocked off their hooves. Fucking mortar fire! I had to get to him, I could use a potion from my armour! I was about to run forward when I heard a gunshot from behind me.

Axis had put a round in an Arab’s chest. She yelled and threw herself to the ground as another one popped around the next building behind us. Another mortal shell exploded in the square. Fuck! Some stupid part of me wanted to charge out there… to carry his body out. No! He’d want me to live, and I want to live. I thought as I wheeled around and charged at the ponies who were trying to envelope us. My gun fired, the pony who was going after us fell to the ground. We had lost. I had failed. And every concussion that rocked the area, only made me know the truth.

I could either fight here, on their terms, the way Tegarni wanted me too. Or I could get away. Maybe Axis knew where to go. My head turned to watch her get back to her hooves. She looked scared. Upturned sand and cordite fumes had flowed over her. There was an exhausted look on her muzzle. But, I could see the hate in her eyes. That was a start. We could use that…
I motioned for her to follow. I chewed my own lip and started jogging forward. We need to get out of this town. If I could draw them out, bit by bit, make sure they were confident- Maybe.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I waited for Axis to catch up. The first warm tear fell down my muzzle-

Author's Notes:

Hey, this is the 4th anniversary of my first fimfic story being published.

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Prophecies, Presumption & Pity (XII)

I jerked awake, and felt agony peppered over my body. The worst was a feeling that throbbed on the inside of my barrel, from the edge of my chest through to a place just behind my ribs. My eyes snapped open and I tried to yell. No sound came out, my lungs didn’t fill with much in the way of air. I noticed a red unicorn stood above me, in between gasps. His horn glowed, and his eyes were sallow. No- He wasn’t red, he was stained-
“Rose-” I managed to say. His eyes opened and his magic ceased.
“Save your strength,” he said firmly, before lighting his horn.
I tried to scream, and my legs jerked as he dug into a wound on my barrel. They were stopped by a pair of restraints. What was going on? My head turned and I saw the forms of ponies laid down on anything that could be found. Many were bandaged, many other looked to be in the process of expiring- The smell of antiseptic, blood and excrement hit me at once. I had been here before…
I retched, covering the ground near my head with the sparse contents of my stomach. Another piece of shrapnel was pulled from my body.
“Sorry,” Rosetta said to me, as I felt ever more lightheaded. There was a chill throughout my body, the only warmth came from the obsidian against my chest. It pulsed with my heartbeats. “I’m so sorry,” he said before pushing a needle into my body. The pain lessened. Time passed, and I laid there wondering if this is what I had wanted all along. Some far away part of myself wondered why I hadn’t expired already. I wasn’t sure how much blood I had lost, but it should have by right kept me unconscious. There had been no transfusion. That was what had saved me last time…
Someone stepped into the room. A tall stallion, kerosene flames reflecting off of his coat. He cleared his throat with a sharpened cough.
“Physician, will he live?” I remembered him. The person Icepick and I had failed to kill. That explained the restraints, he was the kind to take few chances with his own hide.
“I-I believe he’ll pull through,” Rosetta said to him. “The bullet travelled through without hitting any major organs. And I’ve retrieved most of the shrapnel. It’s just, he’s lost so much blood.”

I closed my eyes and lied as still as I could; the painkiller and the exsanguination helped in that regard. The sound of Tegarni’s voice almost made my breath hitch.

“This is a healing poultice, do you know how to use them?” Tegarni said after a few seconds with only the sounds of dying ponies filling the room.

“Healing magic in a bottle, they replace blood and mend tissue,” Rosetta replied, his voice undulating. “And are very rare.”

“I need him to live. He has questions to answer,” I heard him grasp something from a saddle bag. The soft ting of glass being set on the wooden floor followed. The door shut moments later. That stallion had always thought something was queer about my appearance. He was the most skeptical of my story. He had always seen me as an Equestrian, when most of them believed, rightly, that I wasn’t one of these centuries old colonizers.
“I got as much out as I could. I stitched the hole in your diaphragm back up, your abdominal cavity needed some work too. Drink this.” My stomach churned at the thought of something being added to it. And yet when he pressed it to my mouth and slowly poured it down my throat… It was ambrosia- I was having life poured into me. My lungs filled steadily, my wounds knit together and my veins felt more full.
And then it was over. I was better. It was as if I just had days of bedrest and a liter of blood back inside my body. “What happened after the shelling?”
“We surrendered- He saw that I’m a doctor, and told me to save your life-”

“I don’t know. She isn’t in the plaza, she isn’t in here. She’s gone.”

“Good-” I coughed up something warm. “I was worried she’d try to do something romantic, something stupid.” She could make it home. She could live. I was under no illusion that I would live past any convenience for Tegarni. Somehow I was okay with that. Whatever I had set out to do by running into this other world, I think I had accomplished it. I had solved at least one mystery, and fought with all of my being for other ponies. And I was certain I had found what I was sent here to find-

“Like the stunt you pulled?” he said dismissively as he made his way to the other side of the room.

“Yes,” I mouthed under my breath. The crawling at the edge of my vision had returned. “But I lived, again.” At that thought the obsidian pulsed harder. That chunk of glass might’ve made the difference… Once again, I wasn’t allowed to die. I was always living by the grace of someone else. As I laid there, listening to the anguished moans of wounded ponies, and breathing in the smell of those who were expired or close to expiring. I was no-one. Even if I succeeded in subjugating this world, I was just another cog in a game played by forces greater than myself. I could have that statue erected in my honour.

I could play along with the power ruling my home from the shadows, in a bid to protect them all through martial supremacy. That statue could be mine, I could be immortalized. Sombra’s obsidian alighted at that. It was as if there was a piece of that great figure embedded in the glass, pushing me that way, loaning me the strength and power I needed to carry out his orders-

“You aren’t from here, I know it, Tegarni knows it. Icepick told me, she was convinced she was going insane, having dreams through the eyes of a unicorn stallion living in a wildly different place. She thought they were signs of mental illness; visions reminding her of Equestria. The world she was taught to love, but that was always lost to her.” He spoke like anyone past the point of exhaustion did. Numbly and heedless of any consequence. The confidence of mere alcohol is nothing compared to shock of seeing the lives of people you knew and love die without any warning.

“I had no idea, I didn’t mean to make things harder for her,” I sighed and felt my lungs seize for the thousandth time that night.

“Why are you here? I know that you fought in a war, I know you have more magical ability than any unicorn I’ve ever seen. Why would you come here, and try to obscure your origin?” Rosetta asked me before turning back to the Arabian that was under his care. “Well, that’s another one gone.”

“I’m an explorer. I came here to learn about the lot of you, the Arabs, the Rangers and the ponies of Paradise Lost. I don’t want a war. But I fear one has already begun.” I felt my neck muscles lose their battle with gravity. The feeling of being at death’s door was becoming too familiar for comfort-

“Sure- You’re just a normal explorer pony. You just happen to be in the memories of a mare you had never met, and know how to drop bolts of lightning from the sky-” I felt the darkness at the edge of my vision close in once again.

I was awoken with a crash, I there were many Arabs around me. I was sprawled on the ground in a different building, one that had escaped the many ravages of the attack. They must’ve picked me up and dropped me on the ground.
“We meet again, Permittivity, if that is your name.” Tegarni pushed past the his guards to stand above me.
“It is my name, it would make sense to you if you had more than an elementary educat-” I felt the impact from his hoof against my visage. My mouth filled with warmth, I looked up at him after a second. This was going to be my death. He wouldn’t hesitate if he was riled up. I smiled.
“And where exactly did you get your education, I’ve never seen an Equestrian call lightning down from the cloudless sky,” Tegarni snarled at me. He ground his hoof into the ground. He was a physical beast, not a psychological one. There was only so much he could do to me.
“A fine institution, but nothing more than a standard school. I’m just a normal pony, I’m no more magical than you or him,” I said to a stallion standing beside him. My tongue was steeping in the blood, I had always liked the taste of iron. Maybe ferrous things have an attraction to me…
“Then how did you appear in a storage room filled with magical technology? Just tell us the truth, it’ll be less painful that way.” He licked his chops as he mouthed the words. This one was a sadist.
“I was testing equipment to make jumps between magical gateways, the gate misfired, and I was thrust into your midst. From then on I was a prisoner among you until I took the opportunity to escape.” The next strike from him broke skin on the surface of my face. Warmth crawled down my face in a viscous line, turning my burnt orange fur darker in the low light of the room.
“Gateways? You truly expect us to believe the jump between parallel planes of reality could be accomplished by accident?”
“Again, your lack of lateral thinking astounds me. If there is demonstrably more than one universe, one timeline, then the odds of there being an uncountably large number of parallel worlds is also likely. Moreover, if there are a nigh infinite number of them, then the minute odds of an accident become more likely to happen, in at least some instances. You just need to use your-” The next one stuck me in the chest. A solid kick to an area that had just been shot is horrifically painful, I doubled over, and threw up once more.

“You’re no mere technician. You fight like an animal, no-one other than a warrior or a psychopath will skewer a stallion with a length of rebar.” He looked down at me and my dry retching.

“You caught me, I was once a soldier. Corporal Permittivity, Serial Number 111-157-37. That doesn’t make my being in the wrong place at the wrong time any less likely. I’m not an oddity where I come from, we once had a war that would make your little war of liberation look like a tribal honour spat.” This time he didn’t strike me. Tegarni merely rubbed his chin with a hoof.

“That seemed genuine… For some reason I believe you just told me the truth. You spoke plainly, and it looked as if you had a weight lifted from you. Please tell me more, Permittivity was it, if you are indeed not of the Equestrian stock then tell me where your bloodline resides?” He was beside himself. What did it matter, really? There was the power of Sombra, and then there was the role the Destroyer was set to do. He was the Destroyer, he was going to burn and pillage the only ponies who could possibly hold the line against the Imperial army.

“I’m from the northern part of what you would call Equestria, there is no Equestria where I come from. There was a war between my home and the southern states. I was a conscript.”

“There was no war between the Zebra Empire and Equestria in your world?”

“There is no Zebra Empire, and Equestria is merely an ideal of national unification, but there skirmishes and naval conflict between the Celestians vis a vis the Zebrican Freehold.” He was growing ever more surprised as I spoke, I was giving him answers, answers he never expected, honest ones.

“What about Sall’han? Our home, is it free?” Tegarni softened, he was having a harder meeting my eyes. Bearing in mind, I was the injured one. Perhaps he was the more damaged one in his mind. The Destroyer had to be broken, an avatar of the most self-immolation of Equine-kind…

“No, it was taken centuries ago by principalities and kingdoms of the west coast of Equestria. Everyone there speaks Equestrian, a large part of the natives were affected by a plague brought by the colonizers. Millions died.”

“What? That’s-” He looked at me. My heart was pure in that moment. For that single second I understood him. This is why he would damn his people.

“A holocaust. One that wasn’t intentional, but one nonetheless,” I finished saying to silence. Everyone in the circle knew that this was a sacred thing to him, if not to them all. What was power if not the control over others’ lives? That was what I had been sent here to find. It was our mission here, to gain leverage over others. To dominate others, to further the great game. That was what happened here. This stallion desired power. To free his people. But it was still in the service of power. Power was what he wanted-

“Tegarni, sir, there’s been an assault on the perimeter, with a push towards our mortar crews!” A breathless stallion ran up to the circle and yelled this at the solemn commander.

“What? Is it Icepick?” He asked the stallion, who nodded affirmatively. “I’ll lead the counter attack. Crescent Moon is in charge of the garrison duty.Somepony put this stallion under guard in one of these buildings- Don’t let him expire.” I enjoyed being an afterthought. Granted, it was better than having my guts spilled. “Squads three through seven with me,” he barked after a second. The gunshots came closer again. I just hoped she wasn’t doing a suicide run. Or worse, trying to reach me-

“Yes, sir,” what appeared to the lower officers said in response. Many of them moved to follow Tegarni. Just before he left, he took the time to look me in the eyes and speak a single sentence to me.

And then he was gone. Only a fraction of his soldiers remained. One of them, somewhat smaller than the rest came up to me.
“We’re moving you to one of the interior buildings. Any sign of magic or resistance will be met with your death, or worse,” they said. Their voice must have been damaged, I swore it sounded feminine. I was surprised by this even as a pair of stallions hoisted me to my shackled hooves and began to follow me. Behind me were another set of stallions, each of them armed and ready to kill me. The walk was painful, whatever else had happened, I wasn’t going to in top shape without weeks of rest.

Or more of that healing magic. Something inside me craved it, to stop the pain, to be myself again. Perhaps enough of it could make me whole again-

I was kicked in the rear by a stallion. The building ahead of me beckoned. It was a small family home, perhaps three bedrooms. My hooves stepped me through the doorway. Inside was another set of stallion, and that shorter commander. They all looked at me with suspicion, eyeing my horn like it was an avatar of a destructive god. They were almost correct, I suspected. The horn was a false flag though, I was merely a stallion. My token from Sombra, that was the source of many things. Many unnatural things. Things to bend worlds and the ponies that lived within them…

“Do not think that we will let our guards down,” I heard Crescent Moon’s voice from across the room, as I came to rest on the wooden floor. Crescent Moon, under that garb was a mare.

“I would never expect that from a professional military, which you are,” I responded before falling onto my side. It was nigh impossible to sit on my rump while in fetters.

She motioned to the rest of the ponies around us. “A lot us are simply freedom fighters who learn on the battlefield.”

“If I may ask, are you from the research base, Oasis Station? Because you all speak Equestrian, and you’re in charge of the fighting force itself?”

“You’re out of your element asking these things-”

“You called yourselves freedom fighters earlier, but tell me this, where are the ponies who lived in this very house? What gives you the right to impinge upon these ponies lives?”

“I don’t have to answer you.” One of the stallions besides me moved to strike me for talking, she motioned him to stop. “You killed friends of mine, and Icepick has been a terror to Arabians for years. That’s all aside from intelligence you have in your head, intelligence that would mean the end of our fight.”

“You didn’t issue demands or give us a chance to give ourselves up. Your forces just attacked these ponies,” I had to ask her, she seemed less averse to this.

“It wasn’t my choice, and even if you aren’t an Equestrian – that much I believe – I think collateral damage to ponies is within the bounds of war, because this is a war for the very survival of our people. You told Tegarni that in your version of the world, Arabians were culled by a plague and are a minority within our own lands. If that isn’t reason enough to fight against the Rangers with every weapon we have, I don’t know if there is anything to do but fall upon our swords,” Crescent looked at me. In her muffled voice there was a pang of regret. She knew that this was at best a necessary evil. She reminded me of Icepick. Icepick would die for her people, but I don’t think she would ever be able to reveil in the suffering of innocents. Maybe there was a lesson here. Some common Equanity…

“Just don’t cause more pain to these ponies, that’s all I ask. I don’t know you; you’re an enemy, but you seem to have a conscience. It kills a person’s soul, to harm the innocent in pursuit of a goal, no matter how just.” My voice trailed off as I realized what I had been saying. I was a hypocrite. The medallion on my chest buzzed at that thought. A rush of magic flowed through it. My memory of that weapon to end all weapons came back to me, my memories of Maidenpool shelled half to splinters, and the mangled bodies of my parents before they were inturned. “No, no!” Startling everyone in the room with my exclamation was a terrible business. “Get it off of me, please!” I motioned with my magic and tried to pull the amulet out of my clothing. A gunshot was fired that travelled just a few centimeters off of my chest. My magic died as I felt more and more of those visions. The hospital, the trenches. A world set aflame by hundreds of those weapons-

“Are you mad?” Crescent asked me as I felt my skin crawl. This is what would happen again if I didn’t succeed. All of the ponies I had ever known would succumb to a death. There was no other way-

I opened my eyes as I felt a jerk from around my neck. Crescent Moon had wrapped a hoof around the necklace around my neck. She pulled it up and off of my body. My memories ceased playing, but I instantly felt weaker. Darkness swam at the edge of my vision again. Breathing became harder. I felt my muscles deaden.

“What is this?” Crescent Moon asked me as the obsidian hung loosely from her hoof.

“Don’t put it on,” I managed to say before consciousness left me.

I yelled when I felt the cold water splash over my face. My eyes darted around me. Crescent was standing above me, a cup lifted over my form, with her guards around her watching me intently.
“Enough sleeping, tell us what Icepick is planning. Now!” Crescent yelled at me.

“I have no idea. I would have assumed a banzai charge at the weakest point in your lines, but given your questioning, I would assume you’re worried about more than that. She isn’t captured or dead, is she?”

“No, she attacked our lines before running off to the east,” I nearly smiled that that. She could be a very dangerous mare.

“There’s nothing out there, only a few oil derricks to my mind,” I told her before thinking more clearly. “You should know this, there are ponies here that have spent more than a hoof-full of days in this village.” She left the room, leaving me with the guard stallions who were at this point in a state of semi-relaxation. Some of them smoked acrid tobacco, the same kind that the ponies of this town did, many others played games of dice while others merely sat there clutching their weapons, with a glassy look in their eyes. They had fought hard and well, but that didn’t mean they went without losses of friends and ponies they had known for their entire lives. I couldn’t speak their language, I knew little to nothing of their culture or their struggle… I knew this though. Perhaps Sombra had manipulated me in a number of ways, perhaps he had been subtly messing with my mind for a long time. But, the feelings of war, the hell it wreaks on a person… I hadn’t needed manipulation to remember my time at the front. Crescent trotted back in with purpose after a few minutes.

“You were right, there are a few oil derricks out there to the east. Icepick fled there, she’ll be caught soon enough,” I looked at her when she said this. Crescent Moon was probably correct. Tegarni was ruthless, and we were disarmed- I was quite literally in fetters.

“Will we stand trial? Or will it be summary executions? Will you lead many of these town’s ponies off in chains?” I asked in rapid succession, so much so that my lungs were trying to catch up with my words.

“If I have any say in it, you both will be tried and likely imprisoned. You were a guest among us before you escaped,” she said before shaking her head. “I don’t know about Tegarni though, he will given a chance to rectify a mistake he made years ago, a mistake that reminds me of your escape actually. Icepick was once captured in a raid by him, she was knocked unconscious by a grenade blast and captured. Days later, she broke out and killed half a dozen of us, she’s a monster–”

“Do you know what it’s like to be a prisoner? You’ve never been one before. You’ve never been on the edge of dying. You don’t know how it feels to be powerless,” I responded. This wasn't the whole story. I knew there was more here. Maybe I would have a chance to ask her about it, help her make peace. My eyes felt heavy, and moments later I felt a tear drip down the bridge of my nose.

“I don’t fear death, but I will regret it; I know now that I have things to atone for. I was given a chance to help someone heal, some divine purpose, if I were to believe in anything other than enchanted rock.” My eyes locked onto hers. Crescent Moon could hardly meet my eyes.

“As one warrior to another, I promise to protect the innocents as best I can. I’ll try to get a trial, or at least a chance to say goodbye to Icepick. She is the reason for your tears, is that true?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she began to say before we heard an earth shattering explosion. It shook the very foundation of the domicile. Every head in the room looked to the east, I was barely able to glean more than a flash of light from my position. Crescent looked around the room and said a command in Arabian. All the stallions armed, and steeled themselves. Moments later a secondary explosion rocked the room, and a peel of smoke began to drift into the air above the site of the derricks. My mind called back to a conversation I had had a day ago. There were more than just derricks there. There were thousands of barrels of oil stored there too.

A stallion ran into the room with a radio on his back. In his hooves was a crude telephone hoofset. He hoofed it to Crescent Moon, I knew in some part of my mind that the explosion was the best opportunity for me to escape. Not that it was a good one – there were still half a dozen stallions in here, armed and scared, which were not exactly a good combination for an escape.

I managed to pull myself into a sitting position though, bracing my back against the wall behind me. My eyes watched Crescent Moon as she listened to the telephone. Her expression went from worried to dour. The conversation continued and I tried to think if I could possible subdue the guards in the room or make a run for it. Magic wasn’t my forte, and I knew deep down that I had been borrowing a lot of my strength from that obsidian chunk.

“No!” I heard her say into the communication device before dropping it on the floor. She yelled in Arabic at the stallions around her. The stallion carrying the radio set it on the ground with hesitation, before leaving the room with the rest of them, marching out seemingly to try to make some kind of defensive action. As soon as they left the building she ran over to me, desperation written across her face.

“Destroy the radio, please?”

“What?” I asked suddenly. She must be going mad!

“Do it if you want the ponies here to live; we don’t have much time.” If this was a way for them to fake my escape as a way to kill me, well, I didn’t have much of a choice. My horn flared as I put enough charge through the radio to fry the most sensitive elements. I nearly passed out from the exertion, but when I reopened my eyes she was leaning over my legs, a key in her mouth.

Moon unbound my fetters as I tried to realize what was going on. If they wanted to shoot me why were they letting me go? Some kind of sporting chance in their honour code?

“What are you talking about? Do you want a reason to kill me?”

“Do you have a numbness in your skull? Tegarni is going to put this whole town to the sword for the defiance displayed by the oil workers and Icepick. Once he gets back here, the ponies he left under me will join him and follow his orders.”

“I don’t have much reason to trust you, but if you’re telling the truth I have to help.” I didn’t feel like I needed to add that if this was a ploy they could’ve killed me anyway. “Why the change of heart? Did you not realize that Tegarni was a monster until now?”

“We all make mistakes, Permittivity. I’m sure you’ve made your unfair share of them,” she said as she ducked undernearth my forelegs to undo my hind leg fetters. Maybe under other circumstances I would’ve found the position of her under me arousing. But, I didn’t really have the blood to spare. The Fetters fell from my legs and I came to my hooves. My legs were weak and my breathing was heavy, but I knew that I could keep going with the aid of adrenaline. I cast a glance to the open window, and all I could see was a cloud of acrid smoke billowing out from a fiery center.

“Alright, there should be a train stopped a few miles to the north of the town, hopefully you people haven’t noticed it yet,” I said to her. Hey eyes widened and she swore something.

“First she kills three quarters of our fighting men before running off into the desert with the workers, now you’re telling me you were implementing an evacuation plan?”

“If this is a ploy, I will boil your innards before I stop drawing breath,” I added resolutely. “The original plan is back on, then.” My voice wavered as I realized we had basically no ponies left to draw their attention.

“What is that plan?” Moon asked me, suddenly worried.

“We distract your soldiers, while the civilians run to the train. Now, things are more complicated though. I need you to tell your soldiers to go to stay away from the south, and to tell Rosetta–the Doctor–to get all the remaining ponies and run to the south.”

I found my guns and equipment lying in a pile in the next room over. This had been their general occupation building. It was roughly in the center of town, and spared by the violence. Now, as I searched through my bags, I realized that I was about to put myself in harms way once again. Maybe the only way I could ever live with myself is by dying for some other pony, some ideal. I was beginning to realize that if I didn’t risk my life for others… That was when I couldn’t live with myself.
“Found them,” I said under my breath as I popped open the hardened plastic. I floated two of the pills into my mouth before swallowing the rest of my water. The next few minutes consisted of me examining my equipment. Everything was intact, though I could see an exit and entry hole bored through my clothing. And then there was the mostly dried blood covering it all. It didn’t matter, maybe it would give me an edge, them seeing a stallion dressed in bloody rags and fighting like a demon.
I felt the stimulants begin to affect me shortly thereafter. My rifle still had a number of magazines, not surprising considering my late entry to the firefight. My magic racked the slide and chambered a round. There was no signal, I only hoped that a rough estimate of ten minutes would be enough time for her to order her fellow Arabians and get Rosetta marching.

I moved on legs that were steeled. I wasn’t sure when the plan was going to start. The question to my mind was this: did I want to try to ambush the surviving elements coming back from the oil explosion? Or did I want to start a firefight to the north western corner of the town?
The wound in my chest ached as I pulled around the corner of the building I had been sticking close to. I spotted a pair of Arabian stallions smoking and guarding a building. The closest one to me saw my form and barked a command when he saw the rifle levitating in my magic beside me. The three round burst from the rifle threw him to the ground, even as the stallion beside him bolted to the other side of the building. As I fell back around the corner and waited for him to return fire, I realized that if Tegarni and the survivors weren’t already going full steam ahead towards the town, they would be now. That was alright though. My magic rifled through my bag and found what it was looking for, lifting it up to my muzzle.. The pin was pulled a second later, and after cooking the high explosive for a moment I tossed it behind the other stallions cover.
My ears rang at the explosion, even from meters away. Splinters and shrapnel shot through the air. It may be that Icepick had the shrapnel cutiemark, but I could toss a bomb if I had to. I turned my head and looked at the house. The stairs were gone, and shrapnel and splinters peppered it and the surrounding buildings. In a moment a home was now marred, perhaps forever. On the bright side, if my ears were ringing from the bomb, everyone and their mother would’ve heard it too. The horrible thing was, all the most defensible buildings in this town were already gone.

I made a snap decision. I ran to the east. The hotel Icepick and I had stayed at was that direction. And it presented a fitting target; get there draw their attention, pop some shots off, and pray…

I had found a few sentries rushing towards my position, and with a bit of luck I was able to put them down. When I made it to the outer eastern perimeter of the village I was truly able to see what had been started by Icepick. A massive column of fire still spewed into the air, probably from an oil well itself set aflame. I knew sunrise wasn’t that far off, but in the mean time it cast a ghastly pale across the town. It didn’t need the help. The streets were empty and full of burned buildings, with cartridges and anything that hadn’t been nailed down from the multitude of homes destroyed. I had seen this before. I had been in the offensive into the northern Celestian lands. We had done this to them, it had been an orgy of violence and looting. I had seen enough of this. The ponies involved changed, the miniature changed. But the substance didn’t. Lives were ruined.
In the course of a few hours I had snuffed out half a dozen lives, and had had mine nearly snuffed out in turn.
My ruminations stopped when I spotted a pair of stallions staggering out from the east. They seemed to be trying to run, but they didn’t have it in them. Haggard and bleeding, I could make out the limping nature of their strides. My body pushed up against the little outbuilding I was huddled against. I raised my rifle before pushing the stock against my shoulder. They were perhaps two hundred meters away. The rifle rocked against my shoulders as I put several rounds into the closer one. My grip loosened as I watched the other stallion bend over his companion. I could only make out his movements as because of the fire burning brightly over the horizon. He rolled his friend over, and checked his breathing. He didn’t run, he just watched as his friend expired from the three or four bullets I had run through him.
I couldn’t watch any more of it. My legs carried me south, inside the outermost edges of the town. I hoped to find Tegarni. Him I could kill without remorse. That other stallion watching as the one pony he had hoped to escape the horror with died… I couldn’t kill him.
Minutes passed, and the deadness of the town that I had spent days examining was only more apparent. I hadn’t heard a single gunshot since then. Only the wind and my pounding heartbeat filled my ears. The uncertainty involved with all of this was eating at me. Obviously there hadn’t been a mass attack on my position, but then again, I hadn’t seen more than those two stallions coming from the east…
I heard the crack of the gunshot as it passed a few centimeters forward of my hoof. I spun around as a follow up shot peppered the air above me. Moments later I was pressed against a building as the shots stopped for the moment. I had been lucky to not be caught out in the absolute open, and luckier still to be fighting opponents that weren’t very drilled at marksmareship. They had been firing from the central square of the town. I was only a single stallion, therefore I could be flanked at any time.
I turned myself around and ran to the other side of the building, peeking around the corner I saw nothing. And so I bolted to the next corner. What I saw inside made my stomach churn. About half a dozen Arabians stood around near the barricade that had been the source of so much fighting. The tallest one stood in the center, unflinching as his subordinates aimed their guns at me. I ducked and primed a grenade with my magic as I waited for the inevitable gunshots.
They never came.
“Permittivity, you’ve made a mess of things,” I heard Tegarni’s voice cross the distance without any kind of strain or difficulty. “But please present yourself. You’ve proved yourself hard to harm, perhaps because of your learned skills, perhaps because of a peculiar piece of volcanic glass you were wearing.” Shit.

The guns weren’t aimed at me when I looked back at the circle. Sitting near Tegarni were a pair of ponies that I could recognize. Rosetta looked wounded and bloodied as he sat there stoically. Next to him sat a seemingly unharmed Crescent Moon. When she turned her head, I saw that she had a blackened eye socket. I don’t how they were captured, but some part of me was pleasantly surprised to see that there weren’t many Arabians left under Tegarni. And it was only two ponies left under them, hopefully the rest got away and were walking towards the train-

“No words for me, none for the Destroyer Of Equestrians? Or have you already given up trying to save their lives? Accepting things as beyond your control has never been your strong suit, but maybe you’ve gotten over it? The number of wonderful things this rock can tell a pony like me- Well, it can change the world. Not that I had no mechanisms to do that before now, but this certainly greases the wheels.” I stepped out into view. My teeth were grinding against one another as I held my rifle, my pistol, and a grenade in my magic.

“Oh, the suicidal hero! He shows his face. Well, I don’t know how you want this to end. There are six of us. And that armour won’t protect these two ponies.”

I had gotten close enough to speak to him comfortably.

“Palaver with me Tegarni. I know this won’t end well for either of us if it comes to blows, because I won’t make the mistake of not shooting you first a second time.”
“So we’re at an Impasse, but let me make an offer. Give yourself up to me. I treated you better than you’ve treated prisoners in the past. Give yourself up to me, and I’ll let these other little ponies go. Even the one who betrayed me,” Tegarni answered after a few seconds. I watched Rosetta’s eyes as Tegarni spoke. There were still fire in them. I knew that he was just as likely to shoot them the moment I disarmed as I was to send enough current through his smarmy form to give his grandchildren blisters. At this point, I think that they would have been content to give their own lives.
“They got away didn’t they, the townsponies,” I said to him. My magic was beginning to strain. Peels of sweat were beginning to run down my face. “If you hadn’t asked Crescent Moon to do that, you still would’ve succeeded, but your hatred and vulgarity led to your failure. Even if I die right now, and so do they, you’ve lost. Icepick knows where your base is. You’ll still lose. Only losers hurt those who are weaker than themselves. There is never a good reason to hurt others like that."
“I know what you came here to do. Now you are just afraid that someone else will have that power,” Tegarni looked at me before laughing. “You brought a god into a world bereft of them, the killer of gods himself, into a world that self-immolated-”
“Sure he did, and he’s also got a pair of wings under that body armour,” I heard a voice yell from behind Tegarni, up walked a number of armed and dirty ponies, and my knight in silver armour. “Now, I heard all of it, and I gotta say, your arithmetic is wrong. Between Permittivity, Me, Axis, and her ‘friends’, we got about twelve guns to your six. So, I’ve got a fair deal for you. You can let Rosetta and the other mare go… Keep your guns on them as you walk away… And we’ll let you leave. Mare’s honour. It’s the best deal you’re gonna get,” Icepick yelled through her armour speaker as the first peel of dawn began to break over the horizon, rapidly outshining the burning well.
“Icepick, my old friend,” Tegarni began, before seeing the light glinting off so many firearms aimed by irate ponies. “I will accept this for now. Just remember, our next meeting will end in blood.”
And so, with tension that would not be replicated for a long time, Tegarni and his surviving cohorts stalked off with their tails between their legs. A number of the oil ponies surrounding us trailed Tegarni ‘till he was far enough away we were sure he wouldn’t circle back. Icepick ran at me as soon as they cleared the nearest buildings. She tossed her helmet off as my legs buckled beneath me. I took a deep breath as I fell to my knees. The pills were wearing off.
“Perm!” she yelled at me before falling to her knees and holding me with her hydraulic gauntlets. “I-I thought you were fucking dead, so don’t you dare die on me now!” Her blue eyes were filled with tears as she tore off my helmet, letting it rest on the sand in the same manner as she had left her own.
“I-I don’t plan on dying,” I told her weakly. “I nearly did Icepick, but unfortunately we both have to live with that kiss-” Icepick cut me off by bending her head down and pressing her lips against mine. My own forelegs held onto her steel shoulders for support as I let my lips open. Her tongue followed instantly. I felt a warmth and comfort I had lacked for so long, something I had denied myself, something I hadn’t deserved for so long. My tongue tried to keep up with hers, but all it did was slide and play alongside hers. It was still nice. We broke apart a few seconds later. She was smiling and I spotted a tear or two going down her muzzle.
“You better not die on me. I plan on getting laid again sometime this decade-” Icepick stopped for a second as she heard a cough from the mare she had called Axis.
“Icepick, I think the stallion deserves a bit of a rest,” Axis, my saviour and newest acquaintance told her in a neutral tone.

“I loved that Icepick, I love that you saved us, and I love you, but I’m barely staying conscious right now,” I told her and her expression shifted.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking-” I laid a hoof on her cheek as I pulled myself back to my hooves, groaning and straining as my muscles fought back against me. I pecker her on the cheek before walking over to Moon and Rose. She had a glassy look in her eyes, the thousand yard stare. Rosetta looked between her and I, in much the same way.

“Permittivity, we did it,” he started before tears formed at the corner of his eyes. “They’re saved. We can go home-”

“Speak for yourself, Colonizer,” Crescent Moon interjected.

Author's Notes:

Sorry it took so long guys. Things have been rough.

Homecoming (XIII)

“Who the fuck is she exactly?” Icepick asked after Crescent spoke.

“The mare that prevented a massacre,” Permittivity replied simply.

“Icepick please, she’s given up a lot to help us,” I told her as she stomped over to us, that other mare following from behind, a worried expression across her face.

“Rose, she attacked an innocent town.” Icepick seemed to seeth while putting a hoof around Permitivitty’s shoulders, keeping him standing.

“Yes, but you’ve done the same. Icepick, we know about the murderer who killed a dozen of us with her bare hooves. The one that leveled a tenement to get at a bombmaker. We know the stories about the wheat-maned killer. So, I ask you, please, don’t be a hypocrite. Let me live the rest of my life, content in the fact I prevented the outright slaughter of innocents.” Icepick snorted at Crescent's words before spitting in the dirt. Permittivity nuzzled into her neck before she went forward. I couldn’t hear what was said but I imagine it was some kind of plea.

Regardless they walked off to a nearby building, probably to find a place for him to rest. That left Moon and that other mare nearby.

“So the townsponies were able to get to the train?” I asked her, knowing the answer but just looking for someone less contentious to talk to.

“They’re probably speeding back to Paradise right now. So, I guess that leaves us waiting for the Rangers to come and pick us up,” the mare said with exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Are you hurt at all?” I asked her, trying to remember my duties as I felt my own eyes droop as the adrenaline started to wear off.

“No doctor, I just really need a bath and a day off. My name is Wellbore Axis, by the way,” she replied before extending a hoof towards me. I shook it and smiled.

“I take it you met Icepick earlier. She’s an interesting mare.” I looked back at Crescent Moon, the mare who had saved us.

“Yes, she is, if a little prejudiced. I think she had the right idea though, she’s probably gonna try to rustle up some breakfast.”

“Crescent Moon, we’re gonna follow Icepick and Perm, and try to find some breakfast; you’ll be safer in a group,” I said to her. She looked up at me, before sighing.

“I may as well get my last meal as a free mare,” Crescent responded and picked herself off of the shrapnel and cordite strewn battlefield.

Moon and I followed Axis as she tracked Icepick and Perm’s hoofsteps through the sand. I mostly kept my eyes on the tall mare, making sure she was alright. I liked to think that I could understand her, but I knew in my heart that my home would always be a train ride away.

Icepick had kicked the door open to the other bed and breakfast in the town. It hung limply off its hinges.

“Our story is that it was already like this, right?” Axis said,nudging my withers with her own lightly.

“I doubt the break in will be the highest of their priorities,” I flatly stated.

“Right, just trying to lighten the mood,” Axis said quietly. I didn’t like the somber tone to her voice.

“I appreciate the effort. These have just been the longest twelve hours of my life,” I forced a smile as she looked at me.

“I feel the same. I’ve had accidents, spooks. Had a drill nearly take my head off before... just never for this long. Made you all shaky, right?”

“Yes, having a gun pointed at my face made me shake a lot-”

“Can the both of you either enter or let me pass?” We both turned to see Moon standing behind us impatiently.

“Sure.”

“Yeah,” we both uttered before walking through the door and realizing that the power was still on. Some tables were turned over, a lot of the chairs had clothing left on them, and some food and drink were still left on the dozen or so tables in the eating and pub area. Icepick and Permittivity were nowhere to be found-.

“There is clearly an additional level to this building,” Crescent told us offhandedly as she nosed through the kitchen cabinets.

“Right,” I said with a yawn. Axis glanced at the Arabian mare trying to make breakfast.

“I’m gonna help her,” Axis said to me before I set off to find the stairs. Moments later I found Icepick and Permittivity behind the restrooms. I hadn’t ever stayed the night here, so it was odd exploring this part of my now empty town. Minutes passed as I tried all the myriad doors in the place. Finally, I came across a door that wasn’t fully shut at the end of the hall.

“You can sleep if you want, I’ll watch over you,” Icepick said lightly.

“I’m just on edge. I took some stimulants; nasty old habit of mine,” I heard Perm say to her, with a chuckle following his words.

“Just try not to take them for fun is all, I’ve seen what they can do to ponies,” Icepick responded gently. I cleared my throat and knocked on the door.

“May I come in? I’d like to check on Perm,” I asked through the door. A few seconds of silence passed before they spoke.

“That’s a good idea,” Icepick said to me through the door. “The door’s not even shut, we’re kinky like that,” she finished and I felt a flush come over my face. Some part of me thought that was absurd. I pushed the door open with my magic and spotted the two of them on the bed, both were stripped down and facing each other. Somehow I knew that moments before they both had their hooves wrapped around one another. Icepick just smiled and spread herself out on the bed, forelegs behind her head. “What’s up doc?”

“Uh, food is being cooked I think?” I made sure not to look at her exposed mound as I walked over to Perm’s side of the bed. It was strange being around these two when they were nude, because they always wore at least some clothing. Even at this time I realized that these two were comfortable around each other now in way they weren’t around others. However, the idea that they didn’t mind me being around them in their vulnerable state, it was pleasant.

“So, how do you feel? I don’t have much experience with healing magic and its effects,” I told Perm, to which he flipped over onto his back. Damnit his sheath was now in sight too.

“Like Tartarus. There’s a deep pain and an itch from the spot where it entered all the way to the exit point. I’m exhausted and waiting for the stimulants I took to wear off. After that, I hope to get ample bed rest for days as my body heals.”

“That’s unfortunate, even if your plan is a good one, ‘though I’d say a week or two of taking it easy would be even better,” I said as I looked over his form. The entry wound was healed over, the only sign of it being a complete lack of fur.

“I wish I had that leisure time. As soon as I can, we need to leave for Ramsgard. We think Tegarni is up to something, something big,” Permittivity said with a sigh before pushing himself onto his side. The patch of missing fur where I had stitched up the exit wound was larger than the entrance wound. Somehow the magic had sealed the wound and done something with the silk stitching. “But that’s for the future, after your armed forces investigate this place and take us back for an interrogation.” He stopped speaking as Icepick pulled herself closer to him, and wrapped a forehoof around his barrel. Her unshorn hoof drifted over his stomach and she looked at me.

“I know it’s odd how the healing magic works. I’ll only have the memories and perhaps some scar tissue on the inside of my barrel, though if I had more of the potion even that would be left as it was ante-injury.” His hoof drifted down to rest on Icepick’s as she pulled her body up against his more fully. Upon the simple white pillow, both of their heads rested. Her nose was lightly pressed into his wavy chocolate mane.“I just wish I had had some of that when I was injured in the past. I think that being without such obvious scars would have spared me some of the trauma.”

“But scars are sexy on stallions,” Icepick said before nuzzling into his neck. Permittivity was silent after that. His muzzle contorted as many emotions fought out inside of him at once. My time was done here, these two were happy as they could be beside one another. Not perfectly happy. There was no such thing. And I wasn’t one to contribute to their happiness in any case.

“She’s not wrong, you look like the wrong pony to mess with,” I said wistfully. “I mean, Icepick doesn’t need the help, that’s before knowing she’s the mare who torched a whole army.” I laughed at that. Neither of them did though. I had hoped I would be able to understand after this. I had tasted the adrenaline, had seen ponies die. But there was still a distance between them and I. Maybe it was some weight on their withers. Perhaps it was psychic damage that occurs when you consciously take a life. Whatever it was, I guess should have been happy that I didn’t have it.

“Rosetta, I’m glad that you helped Perm and I. More than that –you led the ponies here to safety,” Icepick told me after that moment of dwelling in my own head. “After this though, I’m not sure that you should follow us, we’re only going to hurt you.” There it was. I wasn’t cut out for the rough and tumble. That’s why I had moved out here, to prove that I could be a tough pony. I could be like my father.

“I concur; don’t feel obligated to see this through. If I were a sane stallion, I would’ve taken the first chance I had to hang up my guns, clearly that would have benefitted my health, if nothing else.” Perm said, ending with a dry chuckle.

“I-I, I want to see this through. I need to see the pony that put a gun to my head and ruined my town put down. He’s clearly a threat to everypony in all of Sall’han now.”

“He always was Rosetta. I may have been the only pony to see it for a long time, but he always has been. I mean, the public egomaniacal speeches are new, but that’s just an extension of his crazy, not a new form of it.” Icepick said before sniffing a bit. “Damn that smells good.”

“Indeed,” Permittivity added. “I just wonder what Tegarni meant when he said he had the ability to make the world turn.”

“I think they’re cooking pancakes and hashbrowns, that’s what this place serves-usually served,” I caught myself halfway through speaking. I had no idea what Tegarni wanted, but I wanted to stop him. He had killed this town, maybe not all the ponies in it, but he had made a happy enough place into a place that would be picked at by vultures.

“I know what you’re feeling Rosetta,” Permittivity said before resting a hoof on my withers.

“I do too,” Icepick added.

I just looked at his hoof. Maybe I did know what they knew now. The alien feeling of a place changed irrevocably. Not erased, no weapon could do that, just changed in the way only ponies can do. Not withered by entropy and time, not destroyed in a blink by a hurricane or an earthquake. No, the smell of cordite and evacuated bowels, of fire and screams, followed by ashes and quiet.

“This is war,” I said solemnly after a moment.

“Only a taste of war,” Permittivity stated, a hitch in his breath.

“We’ll do to them five times what was done here,” Icepick added. “But you don’t need to be there, you’re better than it.”

“How was he?” Axis asked as I walked into the aroma filled kitchen.

“Exhausted,” I responded as I watched her swish around some potatoes in a pan.

“She wear him out that quickly?” Axis shot back with a crooked smile stretched across her muzzle.

“N-no, he was shot remember?” I stuttered back. My mind shifting to back to his sheath and her exposed marehood.

“That ain’t any fun. But yeah, I remember, she wouldn’t stop talking about it. Thinking back, it was probably because of him that she had the idea to blow the tanks and the rig,” Axis said with a look of mixed admiration and dismay on her face.

“She burned dozens of ponies alive because she thought her husband was dead?” Crescent Moon asked, incredulity dripping from her voice.

“Honey, that stallion isn’t her husband,” I looked at Moon’s muzzle as it twisted in shock. “They’re just really sweet on each other,” Axis finished as she dumped a bunch of potatoes onto a plate and flipped one of the pancakes over.

“They weren’t chosen by their families?” Crescent looked at Axis and I, and saw only the beginnings of a smile.

“Permittivity is an orphan, and Icepick never knew her mother, and her father could have been any one of the Rangers, I think,” I told her. She shook her head.

“That explains so much, no wonder they’re lost-” she said while watching Axis flip another pancake.

“They at least have each other, eh, I wish I had a stallion like that,” Axis interrupted her before adding, “Or a mare like that.” She laughed as both of us blanched. “Hey, when you’re stuck out in the fields with a bunch of filthy stallions all day, they rub off on you.”

“You’re depraved,” Crescent Moon said. “You’re also depraved.” She looked at me. “You’re all depraved and decadent.”

“Hey, I like giving ponies the benefit of the doubt, but you gotta concede that you can’t cast judgement till you’ve tried it,” Axis shot back while wiggling her flanks back and forth while raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t call other’s depraved for the little things, and Axis don’t tease her. She’s probably never had an environment for healthy sexual exploration,” I told both of them as I felt my stomach rumble.

“Fine. As an apology, here’s a plate o’food,” Axis said before lifting a plate of pancakes and hashbrowns into the air with her magic. She looked at me for a moment before I picked it up with my own magic.

“Now apologize to her,” I shot back as I set the plate on the counter. I knew that this was breaking all of the health codes. I couldn’t give less of a damn at this point though. Fringe benefits of societal breakdown. When the bullets fly, ponies care less about food poisoning.

“Aye-Aye Doc,” she said to me, adding a mock salute with her dirty spatula.

“Carry out,” I told her in a mock official voice. One that I had heard from Bajada one time when she was talking to a recruit she found in the street. I don’t think I did it any justice. Then again, I was using it for a dad joke.

“How many pancakes do you want Crescent?” I heard her ask as I took another bite. It wasn’t until I had food in front of me that I realized how ravenous I was. I had worked through the whole night, and I hadn’t slept for damn near forty hours. Not that the sleep I had had two nights ago was anything special. Somehow my memory magic had led me to replay Perm’s memories over and over again before I awoke. Maybe using my brain as a conduit to transmit memories changed it.

“-really, they’re made of flour, and you cover them in sugar and butter?” I heard Crescent asking Axis.

“Ayep,” Axis replied.

“And this is a breakfast, not a dessert?” Crescent shot back, curiosity and incredulity dripping from her voice.

“Yeah,” Axis told her quickly, before flipping the nearly done pancake. I looked at her before chuckling a little bit. Equines were still good, essentially. That was something that hadn’t been stripped from me.

“That doesn’t make any sense, it’s a dessert.”

“But it’s not,” Axis told her as before placing a pair of pancakes on a plate. “Here’s your dessert.” She snickered at the Arabian mare. Who in turn, just rolled her jade coloured eyes. Picking up my fork, I watched the tall mare settle against the counter. She must’ve rediscovered her hunger as well. I smiled as she dug into the rich food, my own pile of potatoes grew smaller all the while.

“So Rosetta, what part of Paradise are you from? I’m from dockside.” Axis’s voice was wrought with curiosity. Maybe it was the sheer familiarity of the question, something that was asked around this town all the time.

“I’m from stable side, my father was from dockside though,” I told her simply.

“So what brought you out here? I came out here for the work, obviously, says the filly with the wellbore cutie mark,” I looked at her for a moment.

“I came out here to be myself,” I told her simply. Her false nod was enough to tell me that warranted further explanation. “I knew that if I stayed in Paradise I would never reach my potential.”

“Alright, I believe you,” Axis said to me across the void of communication.

“You make a good pancake,” I told her simply. My stomach attested to the veracity of that statement.

“Thanks, my mom taught me well.” Axis told me simply. There was a smirk of pride on her muzzle.

“What do you mean by Stableside or Dockside?” Crescent asked inquisitively.

“Paradise was founded by two seperate bunkers; one was filled with personnel and sailors from the naval base, and the other was founded by the tourists and people living in the resort town. When they opened up, work was done to resettle the town and get it functioning again. Basically, dockside is the north side of the city, with most of the docks and maritime activity. A lot of those sailors grandchildren still work on the sea and run the desalinators, hence the name dockside,” I told her in as few words as I could.

“I guess it was naive to assume you were from a monolithic society,” Crescent said after a few seconds.

“Nah, we got the stable side softies like him, and the tough ponies like me,” Axis told her before flipping her own pancake onto it’s plate with practiced magic. I just rolled my eyes. She wasn’t quite wrong. Neither was she right.

“Yet you live harmoniously?” Crescent asked with renewed interest.

“Mostly, I mean, everyone over the age of eighteen elects representatives to the council. The council decides the budgets of the Rangers, the health service, and the corp of engineers.” My words struck her like a baton to the knee.

“You’re very different than your people to the south.” Crescent Moon looked away, out the narrow window and into the empty dining room. “You speak the same language, you look the same, you even bring the same technologies to bear on our land…”

“It’s freaky, I know. You’re just as weird to me as Icepick,” Axis told Crescent with a faint note of humour. I heard a growl from Crescent.

“Don’t compare me to her!” she yelled back. Her body tightened and she turned to face Axis.

“You wanna fucking go?” Axis replied, her own body squaring up to fight the other mare. “I’ve been fucking nice to you, so listen to me and get it through your warrior princess mind. You and her are both violent fucking mares, hell bent on being right with yourself. The only difference is the flag you wave and whether you’ve slept with no stallions, or a lot of them.” Crescent sneered in response. “No, I just made you a nice fucking breakfast, don’t ruin it by being sensitive to a few words.” Crescent and I stood there stunned when she finished and just went back to her food.

It was silent as we finished our food. I knew I wasn’t the only pony that had gone through a lot. Minutes passed as the silence continued, until I heard the sounds of other ponies walking in the door. I felt the urge to duck instantly, to hide. With a conscious effort I managed to not do that. To stand tall and to watch as some of the oil ponies came back in.

“We saw some trucks driving in from the north, they’re probably the Rangers,” one of them said to us before loudly sniffing the air. “You make breakfast without us?”

My eyes drifted downwards as I tuned out. We had saved the ponies, yet the town was gone. My thoughts wouldn’t stop circling that notion. Worse still, I would be asked to answer for what happened. I had been the one to talk to the strange ponies upstairs. I hadn’t realized what their appearance had foretold… Even they had been horribly surprised that someone else had crossed the desert. Maybe it was because none of us belonged here. We weren’t desert dwellers, Icepick came from green lands, Permittivity came from cold lands, and I was from a place that had been made green by our own hooves. They had made a journey that was thought impossible, or at the very least pointless.

Now we knew that those blank spots on the maps that we had left myopically unfilled had monsters in them. We had made the same mistakes as our ancestors had. Long ago they had made maps and filled in the unexplored areas with monsters and serpents, to explain why they couldn’t cross the deeper seas. Except, by crossing the sea, invading this other land and setting up shop, our much more recent ancestors had created those monsters. The image of Icepick firing her missile launcher into the bank filled my mind again. A dark thought crossed my mind: Arabians were just the closest threat in the sands beyond, and not even the most dangerous.

Someone tapped me on my withers, I looked over to see Axis giving me a curious expression. “You look you saw a ghost.”

“Only the ghosts of the past,” I told her as the rest of the oil ponies, shuffled in and began to make their own breakfast. I was sure that their pancakes would be inferior to Axis’.

“Yeah, you know what the cure to those are?” Axis watched from the corner of her eye as Crescent slid past her and made her way up the stairs. She probably didn’t want to around the armed rowdy oil ponies.

“Enlighten me?”

“Doing stuff in the now; the present isn’t dead. Set in stone. Whatever words you wanna use. Drinking, working, sleeping-” she pulled herself forward as she starting listing things, pausing as her muzzle ended up next to my ear. It twitched as I heard her take in a deep breath. “-Rutting.”

I balked and she watched me back up a pace while laughing softly. “Damn, Icepick was right,” Axis told me with that same loose grin on her face. Her imperfect teeth were framed by a boxy muzzle for a mare. Her emerald eyes made all of that work though. For the first time I really looked at this mare. She was beautiful through all the sweat and pain she had just endured. Just like a dockside mare, my mom would probably say.

“About what?” I managed to choke out as I felt energy and nervousness return to me for the first time in what felt like years.

“A few things. She’s wrong about a lot too… ” She stopped as everypony in the place heard the deep rumble of a large engine echo off the buildings down the street.

“I see,” I mumbled.

“You don’t know how much she talked about you two.”

“Us two?” I asked.

“You and funny accent,” Axis told me with what started as a laugh before falling to a more somber tone. “I’d be surprised if she didn’t jump his bones up there,” I flushed consciously as I remembered seeing them fully unclothed together up there. “You didn’t walk in on them did you?”

“No!” I paused and looked at the floor. She half smiled, half questioned me. “I’m like ninety-percent sure I didn’t.”

“Ninety?” Her eyes glowed at that, somehow making me squirm by thinking about those two attractive ponies going at it was the funniest thing ever to her.

“Neither of them look flustered, and I would’ve expected Permittivity to show some embarrassment,” I finished and stopped myself before I embarrassed myself with the defensive blubbering. I heard footsteps come around the corner, which I assumed were just the steps of the miners-

“Why would Perm be embarrassed?” Icepick asked me with a yawn.

“Uh,” my mind blanked, it really wasn’t any of my business.

“We were wondering if you jumped his bones up there,” Axis said in a deadpan tone. She looked at us with a confused expression for a moment, before looking at me intently.

“Honestly I’m a little pent up, and you didn’t help matters two nights ago, so the thought crossed my mind. But, he’s hurt and currently sleeping like a rock. Besides, I might just take things a little slower this time around, maybe act a little like the rest of you prudes-” She finished with a slight smile. There was a warmth sloughing off of her…

I would’ve just been the latest in a long line of rolls in the hay. I didn’t want that. Icepick was used to using ponies, and being used by them. But she could be better than her.

“Watch who you’re calling a prude! Us oil ponies invented Ponoleum Jelly,” Axis said with a smirk and flick of her tail.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the debauched,” Icepick replied with a smile and a nod towards the other mare. “Rosetta on the other hoof still blushes when giving mares examinations.”

“I was checking you for blisters and sunburns, and yet you kept talking about the cold steel of the speculum while smiling like a wolf! That isn’t a normal examination!” When I met both of their eyes, I realized I was fighting a battle that was already lost. I was the shy, cute stallion. No amount of frontier medicine or living like an ascetic would change that. Though some parts of me blanched at that thought, another wondered if it wasn’t a good thing in a way. It had almost certainly gotten me together with Bajada. Maybe it was time to make peace with it. Having been through a battle, and my entire life had been uprooted by the will of others. I was lucky to be alive, but to realize that I was refuge now… Well, it kinda taught you to not sweat the small stuff.

“I would’ve checked to see if she was in heat, personally,” Axis shot back. Icepick gave her an odd look.

“I have an implant, I don’t get those, and can’t really get knocked up.”

“Lucky mare, I have to take potions to not pop out a foal when I’m in heat,” Axis shrugged before looking back at Icepick with worry in her eyes. “It’s reversible right?”

“Of course, it wouldn’t make sense for the Rangers to sterilize themselves.”

“You only have them to keep the gene pool viable,” I said, piecing it all together.

“Keeping future Rangers from having fifth legs or missing muzzles is kinda the point, and worth it.” Icepick said before looking at the ponies cooking. “I did kinda come down here to eat.”

“I can help ya out, I’d like to show you that if even I can’t shoot worth a damn, I can at least flip flapjacks with the best of them,” Axis replied before motioning Icepick to go over to her.

Rangers seemed to think of things in a scarily pragmatic way. Everything was a means to facilitate the end.

They had a different name for it. Icepick had used a different one, the five year plans. The rebirth of industry, the renaissance of science and the repopulation of Equestrians. Those things in a vacuum were laudable goals. It takes a strange kind of pony to say that they would rather not have them. The possibilities swirled out before me. The idea of a military conquest seemed eminently plausible… Paradise wasn’t on a war footing, and we lacked their pre-war armaments, if Icepick’s power armour was anything to go by. Most of our old war material had been bent into plowshares long ago. Our military was a glorified police force compared to theirs. And if the rest of the rangers were anything like Icepick, we wouldn’t last a week, if they went after us today.

But, that would never be their plan. War kills too many, clearly, and they enjoyed the idea of rebuilding Equestria. A war against us would be a dire thing, to be avoided to by their leaders.

“Unification day,” I spoke out loud. I saw a number of the oil ponies look over to me. “I’m just thinking out loud. But I have a question for you all? Do you like the mare in the powered armour?”

“She did more than her fair share to help barbeque those fucking Arabs,” A large sunbaked stallion said to me.

“I mean, she led us out against the rest of those fucks, armour or not, that takes fucking guts,” another said.

“I know you did your part Doc, but you didn’t charge ponies with guns when your gun jammed,” came a voice in the back. I had had a gun pointed at my head many times, but I guess these ponies didn’t believe that required as much valour.

“Would it surprise you all to know that there’s an entire city full of ponies like her?”

“Are they all hot amazons?” A stallion who had been burying his muzzle in a pile of pancakes yelled out. Hoots and hollers rang out among the tired ponies.

“Not all of their mares are as big as her, and they have stallions too, but they’re largely warrior ponies that descend from Equestrians too-” I was cut off by a burly mare wearing stained trousers and smoking.

“You’re saying I can get one of them in stallion too?” Her question was met with even louder laughs, as one of her friends smacked her on the flank. “It was a serious question, if I start walking south, can I get a hot buck with that same accent?”

“I would recommend taking a ship instead, but conceivably yes,” I told the grinning mare. “I would be irresponsible if I didn’t tell you that they don’t really believe in the same things we do,” my words caught their attention. “Southern Rangers don’t vote in elections, their military and their government is the same thing, and well, they treat the Arabs like shit.” For a few seconds the assembled ponies evaluated what I said.

“How many of them are there? And how many Arabs?” The first stallion asked me, his brow furrowed in thought.

“From what she’s told me, they outnumber the Rangers by a lot.” I answered honestly, because the truth would be known eventually, and I needed to know right now where these ponies’ hearts and minds stood.

“I don’t blame them then, if I had a bunch of sword swinging savages who hated my guts outside my window, I wouldn’t hesitate to put them in their place.” The mare from before answered honestly. “Honestly, if the executive council doesn’t vote to go to war against the Arabians after this, I’m gonna see if I can’t join those ponies down south. At least they’re fighting these fuckers.”

“No, no, they’ll vote for war. If they don’t avenge this massacre then we’ll vote in a new council.” That opinion was widely shared if the sense of the room could be believed.

“They’re Equestrians too, and if it comes down to it, we need to support each other.” That too got agreement.

“That’s what I thought,” I said to the assembled ponies, the harbingers of what was to come. I nodded at the pony who had heard me say the words that had begun this whole experiment. Time to ask the important question. “This sounds a lot like what ponies said before unification.”

“Maybe it does, I wasn’t there. But Is that a bad thing?” The mare who had first brought up strong warrior stallions spoke up once again. “I don’t know more than one Southern Ranger, but she seems solid enough. And well, would unifying necessarily be a bad thing? Maybe we shouldn’t jump right into one government, but allying, that’s a reasonable first step. I’m just glad we’re not alone out here.”

“We were taught that we were the last pillar of civilisation,” I said to her, but mostly to myself. “They thought the same thing. We both thought everyone else had perished in the bombs.”

“Has anypony ever tried to cross the ocean again?” Someone spoke up in the back. “How do we know that those first reports weren’t over blown, we know that there were lots of stables, and military bunk-”

“We’ve listened on the radio before, and it’s always been dead silence. Besides, if ponies had rebuilt there, they would’ve made the trip over. We still have the fuel civilisation needs.” And from there the debates continued. I had heard enough, even if the bevy of theories and pre-war history knowledge displayed did reflect well on our education system. They were as intelligent and broadly self-interested as any good democratic constituency could be, needed to be, and yet they didn’t realize the power dynamics involved. Icepick’s cause was something they could be amenable to.

In the face of this, in the face of the war to come… and the deal with the devil we would collectively make. No, that we would vote for.

The brick sailed through one of the few windows that hadn’t been ravaged by the fighting. Under normal circumstances I would’ve paid good money for what I was about to loot, but these were not normal circumstances. My best friends and dearest clients were ponies from another world, figuratively and literally, respectively, my home was a bombed out husk and I knew now that the world of my childhood would never be the same.

My aim was true. The broken brick sailed into the plate glass window of the general store. Behind the counter, at the top of the shelf was a bottle of the same type that I had given Icepick and Permittivity as a present. There was a certain poetry that I would be taking one as I left this place. Some bitter part of me saw thought that if they had never stumbled into our town, we would’ve been left alone… But I pushed those thoughts away as soon as they popped into my conscious mind.

The bottle opened with a rough tug from my telekinesis. As I lifted the bottle up, the brown liquid absorbed the light flowing into the building as the sun rose into the sky. If I had been a more routine alcoholic, this would be a reward for saving all of those ponies, or living through the dangers involved in that. I didn’t believe in rewarding behaviour, because at base I didn’t believe that ponies had a choice in the matters that defined them. Some magical, causality defying spark of magic in the minds of ponies had always seemed odd to me. Moreso that most believed in it. No, I wasn’t rewarding or denying my achievements. Whatever that meant. I was merely calming my nerves, giving euphoria to a brain that sorely needed it.

If anyone could self-medicate, it was the pony who wrote the prescriptions right? Physician heal thyself!

The bottle tipped back in my loosely held magic, and the burning, barely aged liquid tore a swath down the back of my throat. It was exactly what the doctor ordered! I chuckled dryly at my own joke as I started my walk to the outside of the place. Only a block or two away was the inn where everypony else was staying in. Everyone there but Crescent Moon was in company that understood them. And even then, Permittivity knew what it felt like to be an outsider. Her and him shared more than that though, I knew it.

The sounds engine noises became louder and louder, even as I drank and stumbled down the street. My hooves kicked up amble dust in the waxing light. I would venture to guess that it was around nine in the morning by now. And so it was that when I turned the corner to the inn, I saw the large military trucks parked outside of it, slowly guiding the ponies out and into the covered beds.

One of the rangers at the doorway looked at me, before blinking underneath their goggles and face cloth. They began bounding after me, the only thing my mind could pick out about them was the fact that they were rather short. Some part of me picked up on that fact, just as they made it within a pony’s length from me, skidding to a stop and throwing up coarse sand with their booted hooves. With a swipe from their hooves they pulled down the cloth from their face.

“You look like shit,” she paused after making that wonderful pronouncement, “but you’re breathing,” before I could say anything in response she pounced on me. Bajada wrapped her hooves around my neck and squeezed as if to make sure I was real. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get here sooner-”

“I’m not even sure you all could’ve turned the tide.”

“Are we talking about me and the rangers? We’re the badasses,” Bajada began to start on one of her stories of valour. By now, I could see through it. She had fought some bandits and the desert itself. She hadn’t gone fetlock to fetlock with an enemy army.

“Those oil ponies deserve medals,” I told her. “But we only made it through this thanks to the help of a few outsiders.”

“Lightning ass and big blondie?” She asked me derisively.

“You don’t know them, hell I barely know them,” I told her. Out of everypony I knew, she was the only one that would voice those same gut instincts that I suppressed. She was a base mare.

“But I know that they’re good ponies, and that they did their best in the battle a few hours ago. Can anyone else you know sacrifice themselves to drop a bolt of lightning from the skies? Would anyone else you know try to trap their opponents in a rigged oil field… Would anyone you know sacrifice themselves and their legacy to help ponies that hated them?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? How drunk are you? ”

“Crescent Moon? Didn’t you find her? Second of all, I’m not drunk, yet.”

“No, we didn’t find a Moon, and yeah, sell me some fucking sand, it wafting off your breath like a dockside drunk,” Bajada finished as my mouth fell open. She had slipped the nest. Not that I blamed her. And good luck finding her. I sighed and looked away. Before pulling my bottle from my coat again and taking a pull right in front of her.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re still blaming me for everything,” Bajada said to me, before pulling the half empty bottle from my magic and smashing it with her booted hoof.

“No. I’ve matured a bit. You’re only a symptom of greater maladies,” I laughed at her as I felt the first of many tears begin to stream down my cheeks. The accumulated sweat and crud began to flow with those same tears. “It’s all fucked, and you don’t even know it yet. None of them realize it yet. None of us anyway,” in my mind Permittivities drunken words called back to me. He understood power. Maybe he was right, and all other morality was nothing more than a fairy tale to let ponies live with themselves, everything that was necessary could be apologized for in the future. After the memories of the dead fade, and the victors write their histories… All the matters is that someone is left alive to write.

As Bajada balked at me and the remaining ponies in sight watched as she tensed up like she had been struck, I smiled. I may not have lightning bolts or fancy armour, but I had something I had been given by a stroke of chance. I knew the fulcrum from which this whole thing would lift. The idea that I was a confidant and council to the two transients that already changed so much, and I know would do more than shake things up, well, I would have to guide them. There was a better way. I had been brought up right, and if anyone was built to steer things, to save ponies, it would be me.

No-one else knew what I knew, or could change what others knew- Maybe war was necessary, but I would do anything to limit the suffering… I had to.

Permittivity came to mind again, as did Icepick, they were made for each other, and I was made to shape them into the ponies I knew they could be. It was almost enough to make a rational stallion believe in irrational things-

“-get on the fucking truck before I have to drag you home to your mother personally!” Bajada finally broke through my reverie. Mentioning my mother helped her, the bitch knew what buttons to hit-

“Fuck you, I’ll get on the damn truck, but only for my friends,” my words mollified her, even as I felt that familiar, comfortable warmth fill my form.

“You’re gonna feel really shitty tomorrow,” the mare who had broken my heart said. My smile wavered a little, but only a little.

There was work to be done tomorrow, and what was work without a hangover. Mildew had taught me well. Even if it had taken a little while for me to understand why he was the way he was. The world broke weak ponies. The world broke the good ones.

When I entered the truck, I had many eyes on me. There was still ample enough room, and casks of water to drink. I assumed that these ponies knew how to hydrate themselves. Still, I ambled over to Icepick and Perm, who had found the corner nearest the cab to lay down in. They gave me concerned looks.

“Are you worried about Crescent too?”

“Not nearly as much as we’re worried about you-” Permittivity began to speak but Icepick interjected.

“You smell like the inside of a sadness factory that was sprayed with whiskey, Rose. I know you’ve been through a lot, but this isn’t the time to get sloshed.”

“Yeah, tell that to me half an hour ago, and to my harpy of an ex,” I rambled out before smiling broadly. I much preferred the warmth of alcohol to the sober heat that would have surrounded me otherwise.

“Oh, you’re calling me a harpy now, that’s very fucking original!” I heard Bajada yell from the end of the vehicle.

“You what’s not fresh, your rotting cunt!” I yelled back to the astonishment of many ponies. Where had this stallion appeared from? What happened to the doctor? Did he finally snap, hours after the moment of greatest stress?

“She didn’t say fresh.” Axis said flatly from the darkest corner of the truck-bed. She didn’t look at me. Bajada was smoking and didn’t give the slightest shit about my retort. Icepick and Perm were fiddling with the pipbuck attached to his foreleg. I just laid down beside Icepick’s powered armour and waited for my body to fall into an unconscious stupor. The truck began to move. Moments passed and my vision began to swim. I knew I wasn’t going to be conscious for a whole lot longer. Exactly to plan. But something familiar began playing from Permittivity’s Pipbuck.

"Hello ponies of Paradise, it's your host, Disc Jockey! But as much as I want to open today’s broadcast on a lighter note, we have to talk about the subject I told you about at seven. The attack on Copper Springs." It was him. The mudslinger. The Propagandist.

"Well, the stories are filtering through from the first train load of ponies to make it back to Paradise. 'They came out of the desert.' ‘They just killed and killed’ 'The Steel Ranger steel ranger fought for us.'- Wait, a Steel Ranger?” He paused and after an audible shuffle of papers he cleared his throat. “Okay folks, I read over the paper that was teleported onto my desk and yes, it does say Steel Ranger…” He continued on with the news report, focusing on the unprovoked nature of the attack and the way potential political ramifications. Eventually he got made it to the end of his ramblings. “I don’t know what any of it means, even if it is my job to speculate. Every piece of information is still making more questions than answers. All I can say is that these will be dark times. We all know the lessons of history, the old world was destroyed by war. We’re the last city in the world. We have a responsibility to carry the torch of civilization. Finally, as with any news story, if anyone knows something interesting, a perspective left unseen, some detail that only you’ve noticed, you can call us at our number, or visit our offices. Anything that adds colour. And with that, I’m passing the torch to Salient Query.”

“Why is he talking if he doesn’t really know anything yet?” Icepick asked the assembled ponies.

“It’s their business model, the first ponies to get the news out have an advantage, even if the details are scant,” Axis told her before pulling out a hidden cigarete and staring at it.

“So, is does he work for your council?” Icepick asked before motioning for Axis to give her the cigarette. Permittivity snorted and pressing the tip of the it to his horn with his magic. After a brief blue spark and a telekinetic passing of the torch back to Axis Perm turned to say something to Icepick. Before he could though, she gave him a blink and you’d miss it peck on his cheek. The scarred stallion looked down, though I could tell he enjoyed it.

“No, he doesn’t work for the government, he works for a radio company. All they do is get a license and try not to curse to much, or say ridiculously untrue things about ponies and they’re good.” Axis told Icepick before passing the cigarette to her. I would’ve said something about the health effects of tobacco, but that would’ve been hypocritical given I was on the edge between alcohol poisoning and one hell of a hangover.

“That’s really weird, I mean, we have news reports and a station that plays music, but they’re run by a special division of the rangers.” Icepick’s once again seemed so naive, but that was an illusion, if anything she was better at adapting to a changing world than anypony I knew. If anything she was just alien enough to be exotic, and just close enough in demeanor to Paradise ponies to be intriguing.

“Up north we have independent presses of which censorship, especially during times of war, is common. At least that’s what you determine when you compare the illegal press releases to what’s allowed,” Permittivity said to Icepick and Axis, he had gotten over the very public peck and was back to bring some of that same dynamic into the mix. He wasn’t the kind of pony make others laugh, and he was always more distant than Icepick was. Whether that was some inherent quality of his or an side effect of him hiding his true origins was another open question. The two of them together though, between their magical link, similar backgrounds, and their (often volatile) chemistry with one another made each other work. Co-dependency is when you need another pony to make you feel normal, maybe what they had was they needed each other to become their best selves… They were powerful ponies, and they made me question whether there was some grand plan, but I couldn’t forget that they were ponies.

I couldn’t forget that they were driven by hopes and dreams as much as anyone is. Even if they had both snuffed out many people with dreams of their own. They were levers to move the world, I was sure, but I couldn’t forget that they were pones.

That was the last thought I remember before I slipped beneath the surface.

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the wait. It's been rough, but the next chapter is already halfway done, and that one will have a little extra Interlewd...

If you really liked it, feel free to pm me here or on discord.
Sunnydontlook#1132

If you wanna buy me a Kofi, the link is right: https://ko-fi.com/sunnydontlook

The Proud Tower (XIV)

The light of the sun at midday assaulted my eyes as the three of us walked out of the building we had been disarmed and debriefed in. It had been something I was used to. Rangers rarely walked around our bases fully armed, and keeping guns around in private? Well, that increased the odds of suicide by a lot. But walking down the streets of Paradise with Permittivity and Rosetta, I was kind of wishing for at least a service pistol. These weren’t Rangers, as much as they looked like us. Not that I had any reason to distrust them, I had been staying within a small town of them for a few days. It’s just, all these ponies walking around with loose order, all on their own business, not ordered from above…

It reminded me of the Arabs of Ramsgard. The look of the city itself didn’t help that impression. Adobe, and businesses going about without any queues or requisitions. Granted, I hated queues and paperwork, and adobe was honestly the best thing the Arabs ever invented…

Then again, I was bigger than most of these ponies, and other than the odd Ranger of theirs, I was definitely more trained, and without a doubt more experienced than them. And it didn’t hurt that the second most dangerous pony in the city was currently walking with me. Well, more like leaning against me for support. Still, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that he would fry any fucker that tried to hurt me. I tried not to acknowledge the butterflies in my stomach that thought created. Maybe we were what these ponies called a ‘Power Couple’?

All I knew is that we drew some eyes to us, the filthy unicorn stallions and the large earth pony mare who was wearing strange barding. But, not too many. The wave of refugees and the news of the attack had many ponies preoccupied, so really, we were just a threesome of unfortunate ponies, in a city now filled with them.

“We’re almost there Perm,” Rosetta said from ahead of us. He had mostly walked off being drunk. Now he had a determination to him, each step was just as powerful as the last. Maybe he had just needed a drink and a good nap. Maybe.
“Good.” It was about the extent of his energy. The poor stallion had stayed up for half the trip back, before finally passing out against me. I stayed awake though. I didn’t want to lose him again. About a block later we came to a large plate glass storefront. Behind the mostly clean glass was shelf after shelf of books. There was a closed sign in Equestrian lying loosely on the door.
“This is where your mother lives?” Permittivity asked Rosetta.
“Yep, I’m the son of a Mercenary-Librarian.” Rosetta knocked on the door repeatedly, knocking on the aged wooden door again and again. Maybe a minute passed before it swung outward and slammed into the wall behind it. In the doorway stood a pissed off looking mare, who had the look of someone who had been crying moments before. “Sorry to bother you.” For a moment she eyed the group of us critically, before focusing on the exhausted, whiskey perfumed stallion who had been knocking on the door.
“Rose! I was so worried about you!” She paused and looked back at Perm and me. “Do you know those ponies?”
“Yes mom, they’re friends. And one of them really needs to rest and eat,” Rosetta told her quickly. “Now, I’m asking a lot of you, but treat them like you would me. I have to report to the health office asap.” And without another word, and nothing but a parting wave of his hoof he had left the three of us alone.

“He could never just meet ponies the normal way,” the mare muttered under her breath before forcing a half-smile while looking towards us. “This way, and uh, I apologize in advance for the stairs.”

“Don’t apologize, you weren’t the pony that did this to me,” Permittivity said weakly. As the mare held the door opened, she pursed her lips and asked cleared her throat-

“Who did that to you? I don’t even know your names,” the mare asked as I passed by her. Her eyes crawled over me in an appraising way, a way of looking that I was very familiar with. This mare had more than a little attraction to other mares. Oh shit. Was Rosetta’s mom checking me out? As I met her gaze as it came close to my barding covered ass, I realized that this older mare… had game.

“An Arabian stallion with a high-powered rifle.” Permittivity stopped walking for a moment, before flashing his horn and beginning to lift his duster before deciding better.

“You were there at the attack? They were really Arabs?”

“Yes, and yes. I’m Permittivity by the way, and the mare currently helping me stay upright is Icepick.”

“We’re not from around here,” I added.

“I gathered that,” She laughed nervously before looking at him again. “So what happened to the stallion that shot you?”

“He was either liquified by the warhead on the end of my missile, or he was crushed by the building falling on top of him,” I answered on his behalf, to which he gave me a withering look. What!? I was just being honest.

“Sure. Where did my son get a habit of bringing stray soldiers home?” She asked herself while shaking her head. “I’m Page Turner, by the way. Owner of this fire hazard of a shop.”

“Is the flat upstairs?” Permittivity said with a new spell of exhaustion racking his voice. I could feel his legs beginning to shake.

“Yes, Permit-”

“Perm is fine, everyone else calls me that,” he said as he began to walk up the stairs. “I apologize if that was short of me. I’m in a great deal of discomfort, even if your son did an excellent job of patching me up.”

“He was the one that operated on you?”

“And many others. He did the best he could and saved so many ponies. Your son is a brave stallion, Page Turner. He stared death in the face many times in the last day. Both the death of others en mass, and his own.” She followed us as we rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, Perm and I’s body scraping against the old paint covering the walls.

“Did he smell like a bar because he used alcohol to sterilize things?” she asked as she followed us up and around the corner to the actual flat.

“I wish it were so,” Perm began before I cut him off.

“He dealt with combat badly, and uh, he drank half a bottle of whiskey.” I told her straight up. No use beating around the bush. “I mean, it could’ve been worse. He didn’t, like, jam a syringe of Med-X into his leg…”

“That was not the height of tact Icepick,” Perm angrily whispered to me as we stopped in the middle of her living room. There was a kitchen and a small dining room to the right, and a set of doors down the hall.

“I’m still proud of him,” she said moments later as she passed by the two of us, before starting down the hallway. “So, the elephant in the room. How did you meet him? He’s never mentioned you before?”
“About a week ago, the two of us came out of the desert after following the radio signals that Copper Springs emitted,” Permittivity said before coughing loudly. I hoped he wasn’t getting an infection in his lungs. Or maybe all the smoke he inhaled was doing it to him. I was lucky that my helmet had a respirator.
“And then what happened?” Page Turned asked us, with an edge of irritation directed at Perm.
“He examined the both of us, to make sure we weren’t going to die, and that neither of us were obviously crazy,” I finished for him. “He started talking to us and got to know us pretty quickly. Rosetta made me realize that this windbag of a pony is actually a pretty good stallion.” Perm began to blush as I complimented him. Which led to another coughing fit.
“The spare bedroom is on the right, feel free to lay him down,” Page said to me with a slight smile on her face. Where did that come from? Up until now she had only looked annoyed.
“Thank you again for letting us stay on your son’s behalf,” Perm told her as we made our way down the hall, his magic managing to pull open the door.
“I mean, you’re obviously ponies from a different land, I have to give you a good impression, right?” she responded, but in a tone that told me she was telling herself that too.
The room had a made up double mattress, not too big, not too small, and perfect for holding a healing Permittivity. I helped him over to it and watched him as his blue magic pulled the sheets up. With a gentle push, I laid him down and watched his face lose some of the pain it had been showing.
“Thank you, Icepick. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Pssh, I know you would do the same for me. Besides, the moment you kissed me you became mine.” I paused and bit my lips as he looked at me with a new nervousness in his eyes. “That wasn’t weird, right? I’m still getting used to the whole idea of-” I had been standing with my head close to his, kind of leaning over him, but the feeling of magic over my body caught me off guard until I felt his muzzle press against mine. At that moment the magical push stopped, and I felt my entire body relax as he kissed me. Before I knew what I was doing, I lifted my legs and pulled myself up onto the bed, laying atop him as his tongue pushed against my lips. This time I decided to let him in. The feeling of his tongue pushing into my warm muzzle had me gently moan, especially as I felt his fore hooves drift up my body and onto my flanks…

I practically tiptoed into the kitchen, hoping to find an empty room, where I could get a few glasses of water for a sleeping Perm… And a partially dehydrated me. As I rounded the corner, I found my hopes to be in vain.
“How long have you known him?” Page Turner asked me as soon as I stepped into the kitchen.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but that’s a complicated question…” I trailed off and looked her in the eyes, with as much sincerity I could muster.

“Try me.”

“I first met him about a week and a half ago,” I paused and rubbed the back of my neck with a forehoof. “But I’ve had dreams as him for about a year, maybe a bit longer.”

“Yeah, that does sound kinda crazy, but-” she paused and sighed. “-I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. And you didn’t say it, but I saw you cringe like a filly before the belt when he mentioned his injury. You thought he wasn’t gonna make it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I thought he was dead,” I told her simply. Reliving that moment in my head made my voice lose all emotion. It was just flat.

“And you love him right?” she asked me quietly, a tenderness in her voice that I hadn’t heard from her yet.

“Yes,” I answered quietly. It wasn’t quite news to me but telling someone other than him felt weird. Especially a stranger.

“Good, that explains the moans and the bed squeaking,” Page Turner said without breaking her vocal stride. “You’re gonna change the sheets later, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I laughed nervously. I wasn’t sure how prudish these ponies were compared to Rangers. “Honestly, I was gonna ask if the both of us could use your shower later…”

“You have dried cum between your legs right now, don’t you?” Now Page was smiling viciously. My laugh changed to something approaching a hysteria as she asked me about the stickiness between my legs barely covered up by my tail. “Ehh, I won’t give you any more shit, but I have to ask: was it good?”

“It was our first time, he couldn’t really do much more than lay there and use his magic and hooves. We both smelled like cordite and fire, and I had to be careful not to fuck up his bandages…” She looked at me funny for a second before I finished. “And I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

“By Celestia you’re adorable, even if you sound like a love-struck filly. I can see why my son would like you. You’re just dripping with genuine emotion and spunk.” Page Turner lost her composure as she realized her entendre.

“That and my dynamite ass,” I looked at her critically for a second. “And yes, I saw you staring.”

“Hey, I wanted to see your cutie mark is all!”

“Sure.” I leveled at her.

“So, what the tartarus is your cutie mark?” she asked with exasperation. “Nice subject change,” I told her before snorting. “It’s uh, an expanding shrapnel cloud.”

“I take it your special talent is baking?”

“No, more like barbecuing,” I licked my lips and smiled at her. “Seriously, how is Rosetta your kid? He’s so sweet and becomes as red as a tomato every three seconds.”

“What is it surprising that his mom can quip with a mare half her age?”

“I’m more surprised she hits on mares my age,” I shot back.

“I would never hit on you! For three reasons: first, I know you’re with that stallion sleeping off a bullet and an orgasm; second, you seem straight; third, I’ve seen the way my son looks at you.”

“What?”

“You don’t see it? He has a crush on you, at least.” I nearly slapped myself.

“Fucking hell!” I stomped my hoof and snorted angrily. “I offered to fuck him, and he turned me down, but he has feelings for me?”

“Calm down!” Page Turned said to me, laying a hoof on my shoulder at the same time as she hissed her words. “He probably knew that you and Permittivity were already into each other. Besides, he’s not one for casual stuff.”

“He told me that second thing, and I didn’t even think about the first, I mean, he basically got us together.” I looked down at me hooves and thought about the first conversations I had had with that stallion. The stallion who had slept beside me, who knew the most about Perm besides me. The one who’s town was now gone. I mean, if he… Perm would… Fuck!

“I don’t know you that well. But my mother once told me something, and it’s stuck with me. It will always work out in the end. If it's not alright, it's not the end."

“I wish I believed that. The world ended once. If that doesn’t prove something, I don’t know what else could.”

“The old world was unhealthy in many ways. Its sickness manifested itself in its end. But here, we’ve used our second chance pretty well. We’re not perfect, but everyone has a say in how things are ran. And we’re peaceful, just like Equestria before the war.”

“Peace is all well and good, until war comes to you,” I told her before stepping around to look at the array of cabinets. “Which one has cups?”

“The one closest to the refrigerator.” I ambled over to it, making sure to keep my tail pressed tightly against my rump. “Being quick to jump into a fight isn’t a virtue. War is the great destroyer, every pony in Paradise knows that.”

I took two glasses down and pursed my lips as I began to fill them from the sink. Before long I had them both filled with lukewarm water. I took a sip and thought about what she was saying. “Maybe it is, but so is sitting idly by while barbarians nip at the edges of your territory. [RM1] That’s an even more sure way towards destruction.”

“You are such a soldier,” she told me as I carefully walked out of the kitchen with both glasses held against my chest with my foreleg.

“How would you even know?” I asked with a burst of anger and a flick of my tail. I’m sure she caught a glimpse of my cunt, but I didn’t care. At that moment, I was more annoyed at her naivete than her fillyfooler tendencies.

“Icepick, Rosetta’s father was a Ranger,” Page said sadly as I opened the door with my mouth. I felt a chill run down my spine. That made a lot of sense. Of course she didn’t like soldiers…

Several days went by with a welcome stillness to them. Rosetta had come back the next night exhausted but relieved that his friends and his mother had gotten along well together, and to a long conversation about dropping them off like he had. The person I had really started to like was Dalliance, Page’s… marefriend[RM2] ? Her and I got along. For one thing, when she checked me out, she was a lot subtler about it. Secondly, she knew how to cook. Something, I had never really gotten any practice with.

We were waiting for something to happen in the government of Paradise, for them to actually get a ship over to Ramsgard or something to really confirm our stories. And so, things fell into a kind of rhythm, Rosetta was busy during the days, and nights working at one of the larger hospitals on the other side of the city, Dalliance was gone during the day to work at her job, leaving Perm and I to explore the nearby city. Permittivity and I sleeping in Rosetta’s old bed. Him sleeping on the couch, and Dally and Page passing out together in their bed. I swear they were intentionally loud when they fucked. Probably Page trying to get back at me or something. It didn’t help that the beds had exactly a wall between them…

The sound of knocking on a door assaulted my sleeping ears. I looked over my withers at the door. Behind me was a just as annoyed looking Permittivity, who just happened to have his crotch pressed up against my butt. We liked sleeping like that, and it never ever lead to any fun morning accidents. Nope. I sighed and shared a look with him.

“You’re closer to the door, and you aren’t recovering from any grievous wounds.”

I just groaned loudly and cleared my throat as I dropped onto the floor.

“Coming,” I said to the pony on the other side of the door.

“Yo,” was all Axis said as the door opened.

“What? I was wondering where the fuck you were!” I practically yelled as my discount shield sister tried to dodge my embrace but wasn’t fast enough.

“Icepick, I’m uh, glad to see you too, that’s why I came.” My hug was eventually accepted and reciprocated, the smaller unicorn not quite able to squeeze back like I did. Hey us, Rangers might be an odd bunch, but a tight hug was something we did too. “Hey Perm, how’s the mortal wound doing?”

“Well, according to the resident doctor, I have another five or six decades to live.” I let her go and backed up a little to let her inside, before I walked over to the bed. Letting myself lay on top of the blankets and rest my head on his hips was nice.

“Damn, I should get shot too, sounds like it improves your bill of health.” Axis looked around the room before locating the lonely chair in the room. With a push of magic, she drew the chair to herself and closed the door.

“I actually wouldn’t recommend it, it hurts a lot.” Was all Permittivity said before pulling himself up to a sitting position and wrapping a foreleg around my withers. I was basically sitting in his lap anyway, so I decided to just go the whole distance. That foreleg over came down to rest on my stomach, gently holding me.

“I mean, you didn’t even scream when the bullet hit you?”

“Suffice it to say that the wind in my lungs was knocked out of me.”

“Dammit Perm, I want to like you, but you’re so much less fun than your marefriend,” she paused and cocked her head, appraising the scene before her. “I’m pretty sure you’re together now?”

“Correct, he’s been my patient for the last week,” I looked at her and then shifted my vision to the cubby underneath the desk. “Rosetta even got me a real nurses hat.” I licked my lips as my brain recalled all the fun we’d had with that.

“I take it he brought his own thermometer?” She asked with a completely straight face. Damn she’d be a beast at poker. That gave me another idea…

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Permittivity said in a completely non-convincing voice. He was doing a pretty good Rosetta impression as he denied what he had very much enjoyed. I elbowed him gently.

“Yeah, he’s a lot less straight laced when you get to know him,” I replied gently diplomatically.

“Anyway, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go the market with me.” She shrugged and nodded at Perm as well. “You can come too, it’s basically right around the corner.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that, I’m supposed to get some exercise in.”

“I really should go out and see one of these markets, I’ve heard good things about them. Are they like, open air with tents and stuff like in Ramsgard?”

“No, it’s air conditioned, and actually it’s a pre-war shopping pavillion that got put back together,” Axis told us with a smile on her muzzle.

“Does it have ample fans? Effective ventilation?” Permittivity asked with a start, and genuine curiosity. This flat didn’t have more than a window air conditioner because of its construction. But if this prewar building was anything like the way most things were made in Equestria, it would certainly need something more powerful than that.

“You don’t actually know what air conditioning is, do you?” I asked Perm with a smile on my face. He squeezed my stomach gently, pressing against the little bit of belly plush.

“Beg your pardon?”

“He’s from a place that required a lot more heating than cooling, right? Up to the north?” I nudged him with a hoof as he pursed his lips.

“Yes. That avenue of technology is less than necessary where I come from.”

“So, you must be burning up down here, and when you wandered through the desert?”

“Until you’ve nearly frozen to death, you’ll never understand how much easier it is to survive heat.” he squeezed me softly as he mentioned the heat. “Even if some of us would love to share body heat.” I leaned back against his chest and felt his heart speed up.
“Guilty as charged.” It was all I said. It was all I needed to say.
Axis stared intently. The two of us looked back at her gawking.
“What, this porno was just about to get good.” Both of us looked confused, we weren’t being porny, were we? Permittivity coughed softly and before nuzzling my neck. “Okay, this romance paperback was about to get good,” she said loudly.
“Who’s insulting paperbacks in my house?” Page Turner yelled through the walls.
“Certainly not me, ma’am,” Permittivity yelled back.
“I didn’t think it was you, Perm,” Page Turner yelled simply. “You’re a nice- how old are you exactly?”
“I’ll be twenty-four in a few months,” he replied, just as simply.
“I thought you’d be older than Icepick and my son, you always seemed more mature.” At this point Axis and I were exchanging smiles and trying not to laugh.
“I know, ma’am.” Perm yelled back, and at that point I thought it would be the end. I couldn’t let that stand.
“You know, you could come into the room, Page,” I yelled out for the first time.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude Icepick,” was all she scream-replied back before we heard another door shut.
“So, do you wanna get some air?” Axis said after we both took in that revelation.
“I would race you to the street, but I have to help this lug.” I told her as she got up out of the seat, the moment she turned her head though, Permittivity nipped me hard on the back of the neck. I guess I deserved it. Even if I hadn’t been the one insulting paperbacks.

Yeah. I needed some air. This house was making me go mental in new and interesting ways.

“See you at the street then, love birds,” was all that Axis said before leaving the room.
“You know I have a stronger mouth, and yet you started it something you can’t win-” Before I could say anything more he pressed his muzzle against mine. Maybe we were love birds, maybe we belonged in a trashy pre-war romance, but he certainly knew how to turn my brain to mush with just his mouth… After we parted lips I glared at him. If he didn’t also know how to turn me to jelly with his other parts…
“Are you going to let me get dressed?” he said with a smirk as I sat in his lap trying to think about him rationally.

“Fuck you Perm!” I told him as I climbed off him, even as my mouth curled into a smile just as wide as his.

“We don’t have time Icepick, your friend is waiting.” I just sighed and started getting on my saddlebags.

“Honestly, she doesn’t seem like she’d mind watching,” I replied with the most normal tone of voice I could muster. His face lost its composure before mine did, and a few seconds later I laughed. I had won this round of tweaking the other, and with a shake of my ass as a consolation prize to him, I knew I was on the top of the world.

Only later would I realize, I was only halfway to high tide…

Permittivity was walking on his own again pretty well, without you know, drugs. So, when the three of us finally made it to the rebuilt shopping center I was surprised by the size of it. Apparently, ‘Malls’ like this were built all over equestria before the bombs dropped. Glass sides and steel intermixed in a way that was different than anything in Ramsgard. Rangers built in concrete and rebar, Arabians built in Adobe and brick but these ponies built the way that ponies did before the war. They restored the shops and the neon signs, stripped the reactors and desalinators out of their warships…

The moment we stepped inside the restored air-conditioning made me gasp. How much power would that How many bars of steel, or tons of fertilizer could be made with that much electricity? Inside was an array of things that I would never have seen the rangers making. To the right of us was an electronics store, not selling parts to old world radios and terminals, but selling new radios with phonographs attached.

“Don’t bother, Zephyr is a garbage brand,” Axis said as Perm and I gawked at the electronics store. That was just the main item featured through the windows[3] .`

“Axis, why is the radio that large when you have radios this small?” Permittivity asked her before waving his pipbuck [RM4] covered hoof in the air.

“Well, that Zephyr was manufactured a month or two ago, and your Pipbuck was made like, a hundred years ago at a facility employing magical gemstone etching and enchanting machines.”

“I see, your indigenous manufacturing isn’t as advanced as your pre-apocalyptic antecedents. It’s still impressive that you’ve built yourselves back up to this level.”

“Y-yeah,” Axis paused and shrugged. “I’m not really an expert, but we had examples and us dockside ponies are pretty handy at studying the old tech that was left behind.”

“You use vacuum tubes and earth pony tech don’t you?” I asked her, remembering the tour I had taken of the lorry factory in southern Ramsgard. Simple acidic batteries powered by induction. That and the internal combustion engines of the lorries themselves.

“Obviously. Okay, that was harsh, but, we don’t have an entire trained corps of skilled unicorns and gemstones to burn. And I take it you don’t either.”

“That old world tech is just as far off as it was a century ago,” I said to her.

“Is the main issue the juncture between regular magic and electrical engineering?” Permittivity asked with an expression of extreme curiosity.

“Maybe? I know the raw output of the generator on a set of power armor is electrical current, even if the generator uses an enchantment to operate,” I told him as we all stepped into the electronics store. No one gave us a second glance at this point.

“Customers!” We all heard a stallion say excitedly. “Are you here to buy, or browse? Maybe you’re all more on the fence?”

“I’m looking at phonographs. I’d like to be able to experience your culture’s music at my leisure,” Permittivity spoke up and met his eyes. He was a little taller than the other stallion, a short earth pony wearing a shirt and tie.

“Of course- your culture?” he looked bemusedly back towards Perm before smiling that plaster smile all sales ponies had.

“Yes, the culture of Paradise is indeed foreign to me,” Perm beamed at the other stallion. “But the basics are the same, the language, the phonograph, the telephone.”

“You’re quite funny, even putting on that accent, sir. But I can tell you want a phonograph with a high fidelity,” the sales stallion belted out. I wondered how much this stallion was paid. This wasn’t hard work. I rolled my eyes and threw a leg over Perm’s shoulder.

“He’s with me, we’re the ponies that arrived in Copper Springs, ya know? Wandered out of the desert. Then a few days later the whole place kinda caught on fire…”

“R-really?”

“No, my friends here are practicing for their roles in the community theatre.” Axis played off as the both of us stared at her with wide jaws. “They take their method acting way too seriously.”

“Oh, alright, well I can still get you that record player…”

After we had given Axis’s mail address to the pony and given him a fair few bits we were walking through the rest of the shopping pavilion. There were fountains, restaurants, and-
“A spa is a place where ponies go to relax and get a nice massage.” Axis told me with a smile on her face. “And usually you get an attractive pony to give it to you. There’s a ‘spa’ down by the docks where I usually go when I get home.”
“Oh you didn’t mention that part.” My voice might have taken on a purr as I replied.
“Maybe we can all go there later,” Axis said with a flick of her tail and a shit eating grin. She picked up the pace and locked her head on something across the central square we were walking through. Perm totally had his eyes locked on her ass when she flicked her tail. That didn’t bother me, I knew I had a better butt than her…
Then I saw the thing that Axis was trotting towards. It was a larger than life poster advertising a radio show, the same one we had listened to on the ride here. A silver-coated earth pony, with a wheat-colored mane stood beside a microphone with the number for the frequency.

“He could pass for your father,” Permittivity said after a moment. A smile across his muzzle.
“Nah, he doesn’t swear enough,” I told him instantly.
“I bet his bedroom barely even reeks of sex,” Axis said with another grin, just as she rammed her shoulder into mine softly.
“Hey, that’s mostly his fault,” I shot back, while pointing a hoof at Permittivity.
“I’m not the one that wakes the other up with oral sex,” he said while looking around to make sure no-one could hear him.
“Well, I don’t exactly hear you complaining,” I said simply, smiling at my victory.
“Touché.”
“So, is it normal for ponies who just talk or act funny to be important?”
“I mean, it’s a viable path to fame,” Permittivity said with a strange look on his face.
“It just seems odd to me. We award medals and heap praise on ponies that embody our virtues: being a runner or a physical champion, being brave on the battlefield, even pushing forwards the bounds of what’s possible in technology and industry. But, to be rewarded just for being a witty pony, or just because you’re pretty…” I trailed off and stared at the stallion who embodied the spirit of these ponies.
“Maybe it’s just rewarding different virtues. Wit, beauty, even avarice. Those are things that before the war we celebrated as well.”
“So you’re saying it’s the needs of the society are the main factor in what that society asks of its ponies?”
“I mean yes, but to some societies, the overarching needs of that society is a strange question-”
“Yeah, we don’t really have a ‘master plan’ for our collective efforts. Like, from what I can tell, y’all have a kind of internal prophecy about yourselves. We… Don’t,” Axis said with a hint of judgement in her voice.
“That’s so strange. What do you work for then? What gets you out of bed?” I asked her. The lack of compulsion, the lack of vision. The abandonment of their homeland. It seemed so anemic. Then again, they had families, they lived happily, on balance. They had no serfs, no slaves among them…
“Icepick, that’s a question that everypony has to answer for themselves, that’s the beauty of a place devoted to the individual,” Axis responded, a smile affixed on her muzzle. We both just thought the other was naive.

“I guess,” was all I said as I mulled over her words. An idea occurred to me. These ponies had a lot to learn, but those oil ponies could fight with as much valor as rangers. I also knew that we had as much wit and poetry in our souls as they did. Reflex didn’t inspire ponies just because he was an exceedingly good marksmare. He could joke and speak just as well as the radio stallion…
He wasn’t here though. Only I was. But at least I was getting an idea about how they ticked. They were so similar to us, and so fucking strange at the same time.

Minutes passed, and we set ourselves towards a new destination. Our chatting had died down for the moment, leaving me with my thoughts.

“I wish Reflex was here.” I told my friends as we walked towards the canteen–I mean, food court.

“Are you homesick?” Permittivity asked immediately.

“Not really,” I said earnestly. “I like this place a lot. Ponies living happily, I almost wish I had been born here instead. But Reflex could win you over. He’s everything a ranger should be. Intelligent, brave and he could even make our elders smile when he cracked a joke…”

“Shit Icepick, everypony that you talk to likes you. And honestly the rest of these Rangers don’t sound like could do that,” Axis said with an odd look on her face. “Is it because he’s a higher rank than you or something?”

“Yes, he’s a better ranger than me. He follows orders to the letter, and he’ll be in charge someday.”

“You really don’t understand us, do you? If anypony can win us over, it would be you Icepick.” Permittivity nodded at her statement. Even if his look was more conflicted than hers.

"You fought to save some of us, you're charismatic and well, I know you're fighting for more than just some abstract ideals." Axis shifted her eyes to the stallion beside me.

“Maybe,” I said before shaking my head. “I’m fucking hungry, I’m ready to enjoy the heraldry of a food court.”

“Be prepared for disappointment,” Axis said with a chuckle.

“I always am.”

“Okay folks, I’m here with a very special guest today. Say hello to Knight Second Class Icepick. Or as you may know her, the Steel Ranger.”
“Hey, Frequency, and I guess all the ponies of Paradise.” I said with a hint of nervousness.
“That’s flattering Icepick, but my audience isn’t that big.” He laughed and stared into my eyes. “Alright, first question, why are you wearing normal clothes and not that big suit of steel?”

“There are quite a few reasons for that. First of all, your floor isn’t exactly sturdy enough to hold up the weight of an armored suit. And let me tell you, falling through a story or three of floor isn’t fun. Secondly, I had it taken from me by your customs agency. Not that I mind too much, I can still beat up anypony without my armor.”

“Okay, I can see why they took the metal doom suit from you.” He paused to take a breath, a moment in which I took a sip of water. “So, I know why you came on my show, but tell me in your own words why you came to this musty recording studio?”

“Basically, I’m the only Ranger here right now, and I want you all to know a little about us. I want to make a good first impression.”

“I think you’ve already done that. From the reports, you came up with the plan to lead the Arabians into the oil fields. Which you did by going out alone and having them chase you…”

“Isn’t that what anypony in a set of mostly-bullet-proof armor should do?” I replied in a neutral voice.

“I would be too busy voiding my bowels if I was anywhere near there.” He paused for the audience to laugh before continuing. “So, about those oil fields. Do you feel any remorse for torching eight-hundred thousand bits worth of crude?”

“Honestly, I haven’t been paid in a month and a half, and I have no idea what the conversion rate would be. But uh, I’ll start paying up right after those Arabs pay- in blood preferably.”

“That went rather dark, Icepick. But I’ve heard you’re a lover as well as a fighter?” he asked with a lot of energy, really wanting to change the subject.

“Yeah, I was kinda pissed at the time because, I thought that the stallion of my dreams had just been killed by them. Not to make light of the suffering of the ponies or Copper Springs-”

“No, no, if someone hurt my family, well, that’s a different kind of motivation,” he said with a far-off tone. “But the important thing is that he lived, right?”

“Yes, he did,” I laughed softly and felt the beginning of tears well up in my eyes. “He took a bullet to the chest calling down a lightning bolt down on an Arab position. It was only because of him, that I was able to destroy the bank they were using as a bunker.”

“Do you get a thrill from destroying expensive things?” he asked with a laugh.

“Not any more than anypony else.”

“So, if you could tell anypony listening something, what would it be?”

“I’m not really an ambassador, or a politician. Frankly, before I was separated from the Rangers, I mostly just followed orders and tried to have some fun along the way. But I’ve done some hard thinking in the meantime. To the ponies of Paradise, I want to share with you all a vision of the future. From the moment of birth to our deaths, Rangers and inculcated with a purpose. Our mission is to return to Equestria, and to rebuild her. We’ve had stumbling blocks, we’ve fought wars with the warlords south of us, and we’ve been fighting the Arabians since before the sky was filled with ash. But we’ve always thrown ourselves into the task. Always advancing towards that goal. Five year plan after five year plan. I don’t want to think that you’ve forgotten our shared homeland. In a lot of ways, you’re truer to the spirit of what once was than we are.”

“So, you’re saying we can learn from one another?” he asked me when I paused to take a breath.

“Exactly. I cherish the freedom and happiness that you all have created through great sacrifices of your own. But we all have to remember what state the motherland is in. Even the Rangers of Equestria have forgotten what it means to serve Equestria. We’ve picked up chatter from the few remaining satellites in orbit. Those Rangers aren’t our friends. They’ve grown fat and decadent off of the technology of the old world. They could’ve rebuilt Equestria with the help of the Stable Dwellers, and if they had, then we could be having an entirely different conversation.”

“I’m not saying that I have this point of view, but, why should we spare blood and treasure to rebuild a society an ocean away?”

“Because we’re all Equestrians.”

“Alright, I can dig that. But in the short term, you think we should join you in the war against the Arab tribes?”

“Yes, they attacked you without even a second thought. Because their leader, a bastard named Tegarni, thinks of all Equestrians as monsters to be pushed into the sea.”

“That’s terrifying,” was all that he could say, so I continued.

“We’re already de facto allies. What I’m talking about is a combining of our strengths. You have the numbers and the beating heart of a restored Equestria. We have the lances and the will to make it happen.”

“Are you talking about some kind of political unification now?” There was skepticism in his voice as he questioned my vision.

“Not in our lifetimes, I think. But trade and an effective alliance would make the both of us stronger. We can build all the guns and equipment that you would need to build the army that could beat the Arabs once and for all. And your experienced engineers and industrial strength could improve the lives of every Ranger and Arab living with the floodplains of the Senegral[RM5] .”

“I see. That’s a rather compelling vision. But do you think that your higher-ups ascribe to the same vision?” His words caught me off guard. What would Churned Waters want with these ponies. They had everything we desired, a population that would make selective breeding unnecessary, factories and the beginnings of a railroad network that could span the distance… And in the far future, they had the hulks that could make a new navy.

“Yes. Right now, your council is sending boats down the coast, and they should hit Ramsgard in a few weeks. So, I don’t think the same pressures for unification are there, but I think it would be the height of idiocy for either of us to reject the other’s overtures.”

“I think I agree. Like you said, we’re all Equestrians, and there aren’t many of us left on this continent.”

“Maybe after this war is over, I might just make a few more of us,” I said with a laugh.

“Well, we better get that war wrapped up soon, wouldn’t want to keep you and that lucky stallion waiting.”

“Exactly.”

I exited the studio and took in the salty night air. It had been a week and a half since Perm and I had gotten a phonograph. But I knew he hadn’t been listening to records during the last hour. The studio was only a short walk from the dockyards. It wasn’t cold, per se – the nearby oceans and desert moderated the temperatures a lot, after all – but it did have my coat standing at attention. Minutes later and I was standing at the end of a mostly empty pier. Mooring ropes and crates lay around it. The smell of overripe fish filled the air just as much as the brine did.

A gravid moon cast a glow on the harbor as I fished out a lighter and a smooshed pack of cigarettes. With a flick the lighter came to life, and a second later the tip of my cigarette was the brightest thing before my eyes. I was focused on the horizon. Battered and half sunken vessels sat in the water, rusting guns that could lob a suit of power armor twenty miles perched atop their hulls. Would we ever be able to achieve that again? If you added up every equestrian on the continent, we numbered maybe two-hundred thousand. That was a rounding error compared to the past. I took a deep pull and held it in my lungs, before letting it out. Then again, we could avoid making the mistakes of the past.

The ponies of the past were titans, but also children. They were able to build fleet after fleet of mighty vessels and equip whole armies with magical armor. But in the end, they lost. They weren’t willing or perhaps able to attack when they had the power to wipe their enemies from the field. And we were still paying the price. My cigarette was nearly burned out by now. I took the last pull and dropped it onto the aged pier. I smashed it beneath my hooves and growled. We were going to pull ourselves out of this slump. We would be better than those that came before.
The Equestrians of Sall’han may have regressed, but we hadn’t entered a dark age. I wouldn’t let the last embers of Equestria die. Me, the fuck up, shrapnel flanks, would save Equestria.

[RM1]R O M E
[RM2]On a more serious note, who the fuck is Dalliance? Has she been introduced already?
You're gonna mention the differences between post war and pre-war electronics, vacuum tubes versus arcanotech transistors
[RM4]Wait, Perm has a PipBuck? Does Perm know?
[RM5]?

Author's Notes:

I hope you liked it!

If you really liked it, feel free to pm me here or on discord.
Sunnydontlook#1132

If you wanna buy me a Kofi, the link is right: https://ko-fi.com/sunnydontlook

Lapping Upon The Shore (XIVS)

Author's Notes:

So, basically this got edited before 14. I decided to make it it's own chapter.

In you don't remember the reference... Then realize that this chapter is basically Erotica. Though I contend that it adds something to the characters.

Enjoy!

The room had a made up double mattress, not too big, not too small, and perfect for holding a healing Permittivity. I helped him over to it and watched him as his blue magic pulled the sheets up. With a gentle push, I laid him down and watched his face lose some of the pain it had been showing.

“Thank you, Icepick. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Pssh, I know you would do the same for me. Besides, the moment you kissed me you became mine.” I paused and bit my lips as he looked at me with a new nervousness in his eyes. “That wasn’t weird, right? I’m still getting used to the whole idea of-” I had been standing with my head close to his, kind of leaning over him, but the feeling of magic over my body caught me off guard until I felt his muzzle press against mine. At that moment the magical push stopped, and I felt my entire body relax as he kissed me. Before I knew what I was doing, I lifted my legs and pulled myself up onto the bed, laying atop him as his tongue pushed against my lips. This time I decided to let him in. The feeling of his tongue pushing into my warm muzzle had me gently moan, especially as I felt his fore hooves drift up my body and onto my flanks…

What felt like minutes passed as we swapped spit, before stopping to catch our breath. “So, do you regret that first kiss?” I asked him while wearing the same smirk that always drove my superiors crazy. I felt comfortable around him. He hadn’t pushed me away when I showed affection beyond the purely sexual. Perm thanked me for helping him out, here with the bed, and with that save earlier. He wasn’t like other stallions; not too stubborn to admit he needed help, or to admit he had feelings. He made me laugh, he made me question everything and he wanted to help me be a better pony. He also made me want to hit him fairly regularly, but that might have been part of his appeal…

“I’m glad I lived to answer that question,” he said with a smile of his own. I felt him pull up my tail with his magic while he squeezed my flanks. Yep, he wanted me.
“And that answer is?” I asked him as his magic pressed against my marehood and spread me just the slightest bit apart. A slight moan punctuated my question.

“I think you’re the mare of my dreams.”

I felt my stomach go crazy as his eyes bore into mine. I couldn’t respond to that in any other way than to kiss him. Even that was nothing compared to the way he turned my legs to jelly with his teasing magic, his practiced attempts to bring my clit out into the steamy air.

I couldn’t let this unicorn defeat me, so even as he copped a feel and made me lightheaded, I lifted my hips up before pressing back forcefully against his crotch. His eyes opened widely as I felt a telltale hardness down there. Our lips parted and we just looked at each other for a moment. On some level, we both knew that we were on the precipice of taking this relationship somewhere we both wanted it to go. Even some far-off part of me realized that down the line, our foals would definitely have blue eyes. His breathing was a little too heavy, and even if he was hard, I knew I would have to do all the work. It would be enjoyable, but I knew that it wouldn’t be all that a first time could be.

“I-Icepick, would you like to-” he asked with a mixed hesitation and excitedness in his voice, and as I rolled over into the spot next to him and cut him off he seemed relieved. My eyes drifted down to his length. He certainly had enough blood to fill it up.

“Yes, but do really want this to be our first time?” He looked at me strangely. And his member managed to twitch in front of my eyes. Okay, I had to cop a feel. I stuck my hoof out and rubbed against the base of his hard cock. He groaned and smiled an easy smile at me. I did the same, even if my heart was thumping in my chest. Somehow, it was different being next to him. Every look he gave me, every touch and every moan he made drove me crazy.

“Honestly, I thought it would be me asking that kind of question, but perhaps not.” Maybe his cock and his brain were working on different wavelengths because his left forehoof drifted over to my stomach and ran a tight circle around my tits. A drop of pre dripped down his stallionhood as my hind legs opened up. Without missing a beat, he began to run his hoof over the inside of my hind legs before finally lightly pressing up against my pussy…

“Damn, are you pent up too? It’s been like a month and a half for me,” I said as my hoof picked up speed as it rubbed over his cock, and I pressed my body against his. Our heads turned to face each other, almost like that first night in Copper Springs. No, exactly like that night in Copper Springs, just with that sexual tension finally snapping like an over stretched rubber band. I felt my hoof grow wet with his pre, and as even as I spread it over his length I couldn’t keep up. Well, I had to do something. With his eyes glued to mine I brought my coated hoof to my lips and cleaned it. He swallowed hard as his cock twitched and spurted more pre.

“Not nearly as much,” he replied simply, before dipping his head over my neck and nipping at the skin. I moaned and ground my hips up into his hoof. He then moved his head back up to smile at me before bringing his own hoof over to his lips, mimicking me, before lapping at it like a thirsty dog.

It was fucking hot, so I took the opportunity to lock lips with him, and with a rub directly on his cock head, I forced his mouth open. The kiss became sloppier and sloppier as I took control and explored his mouth for the first time. And when I climbed on top of him, leaving my wet cunt to rub against his cock, he gave me the most smoldering look I had ever seen on a pony. He wanted me, and I wanted him, but for the first time in my life, I loved him. And I had a sneaking suspicion that he was falling for me too… And so it was that I lifted my body straight up and with a hoof guided his cockhead against my slit. Less than twelve hours ago, I thought I had lost the stallion of my dreams. Now, as I dropped my hips slowly - I looked down at him as my tongue lolled out of my mouth - I was finally bedding him, and it was exactly as good as I thought it would be.
I remembered the first time I had fallen asleep beside him; his light snoring and his unrelenting smell of stallion, and how I had initially hated him. Now though, he made me believe in fate. In a higher power… And hope. This city… these ponies would never have known about us Rangers without him.

When my hips hit his I took in a deep breath and just enjoyed the feeling of fullness. For a unicorn he packed a punch. He wasn’t the longest guy ever, but he was girthy… And before I had time to think further he drove upwards into me making me fall forwards and brace myself on his chest. Before the ornery stallion could do it again and break every doctor's order in the book, I pulled myself up and dropped onto his length again, my moan echoing across the former room of my friend. I had to thank him for not sleeping with me. The feeling of him pushing against my dripping walls made everything fall away, all the pain, all the alienation, all the doubts about his origin… I loved him. I loved his voice, his eyes that reminded me of pictures of glaciers, I loved that he was brave.

Permittivity groaned as I rode him, my hips slamming into his thighs over and over again as I felt my clit begin to wink out. Through it all, I was lost in his eyes, his scars and the feeling of his heart pounding under my hooves. I was invested in him, it was something that I couldn’t help but love. Endorphins started circulating in a way they hadn’t since Reflex…

And with a tempo that made the bed springs squeak, we continued. Minutes passed with the both of us becoming red in the face and increasingly breathless. His cock spreading me out even as I began to tighten up, my tummy increasingly full of tension, before-

“Icepick!” he moaned as I felt his cock begin to flare inside of me. All his previous stimulation had led to this moment, when I finally felt my clit wink out against his throbbing cock and stay there. I looked into his eyes and saw something I had never seen in them before: bliss. So, when I finally felt those twitches that signaled his end, he rammed himself back in me as hard as his exhausted body could bare. He chose that moment to squeeze my ass and send a touch of electricity through my clit.

“Perm!” I moaned out loud as that tension in my belly became the best orgasm I had ever had. Somewhere in the back of my mind, behind the mess that I had just become, I felt the thick squirts of cum filling my pussy. I fell onto his chest panting and looked down to see the wet white-streaked mess that was our joining. “Really, uh, Perm? That was fucking shocking.” I could feel him breathing heavily, even as his cock began to shrink inside of me. Maybe it wasn’t a fairy tale bedding, but we weren’t exactly a fairy tale couple.

Moments passed, and I rolled off of him and without consulting him, twisted and began licking up and down his dirty shaft, scarfing down my first serving of him. His cute desperate little half-moans filled the air and he got about halfway hard before he managed to sputter out, “P-please Icepick. I probably shouldn’t have rutted once, twice is pushing it in my condition.”

“G-good point,” I replied. I quit my ministrations and moved my head back up towards his, laying a hoof across his body as the afterglow began to hit me in full force. That fucking Arabian had stopped me from getting a second round. Then again, I had probably liquified him… Fair was fair, I suppose.

I gently nuzzled Perm and listened to him breath, even as his breathing became the deep breaths of sleep. Normally I’d hold that against a stallion, but not him. Not now. No, I was as content as I could ever remember being, even in a strange city, in a stranger’s house. My stomach was full of butterflies, and my brain was fuzzy. If these weren’t the signs of being in love I had heard about, that I had felt years ago for Reflex, then I would eat my saddlebag. The disgusting one that still smelled like decomposing head. That same feeling of comfort, that energy flowing through me that made me realize my heart was beating fast… It remained as I watched him sleep. My conundrum of a stallion. The one I would never lose again. Eventually, I yawned and managed to fade to black with my head on the same pillow as the stallion I loved. The same stallion who I had known for a long time, who had saved me, and been saved by me. The stallion that would maybe just stick by me because he loved me back.

Relief, Remorse & Reaction (XV)

The noise from the radio stopped. It hadn’t been the longest interview, but it had accomplished what it had set out to do. Icepick was magnetic. She was humble, yet defiant. She was the mare that would raise a thousand ships.

My legs felt weak as I sat there in a tavern filled with patriotic ponies. Before me was a stout beer. It reminded me of home. Then again, so did the revelry. I had been a student when the war had been declared. We were so innocent. I had sung among the loudest and lost the most in the end. I tipped my glass back and enjoyed the bitterness. No One knew what was coming. It was my burden to bear. A burden that couldn’t change anything. I had found my mark, and I loved her. The mare of my dreams would be the one that damned this world. She was falling in love with it, the freedom, the expression of one’s self. Icepick had pink streaks in her mane and tail.

Even if I told her what was to come, I doubted that anything could be done. Even if all the Rangers and every citizen of Paradise were to take up arms, it would be at most a match for one corp. It would just prolong the inevitable. The question for me was this: should I tell her and risk everything? Or should she find out when the ponies who spoke and thought like me came streaming out of an obsidian mirror?

I took another drink and thought about my mission. I had come here to prepare this place for an invasion. The vaguest of prophecies had been dropped in my lap. I still didn’t know how it was supposed to play out, or my part to play. At this point, all I had done so far is build a legend for my lover, and save her from her enemies at the same rate as she saved me-

“Why do you look so down?” A mare asked me from a few feet away. She had a glass of harder liquor in front of her, and she looked vaguely familiar.

“I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. Or even if there is a right thing to do,” I said quickly, like my guts were spilling out into the smoky room through a massive wound.

“Wait, wait, I know you…” She paused and finished off her drink. “You’re that stallion with the funny accent, the one that got pinged by an Arab and lived.”

“How do you know that?” I asked her, suddenly wary of the other patrons recognizing me.

“Oh, you were being cuddled by the big blonde and getting attention from Rosetta,” She answered without breaking her verbal stride.

“I apologize for only having the barest recollection of you, I was rather indisposed at the time.” The bartender moved by the two of us and filled up our glasses again, with her nodding at him to fill mine.

“I forgive you. I’m Bajada by the way.” She laughed as I downed the first third of my glass in a single gulp.

“Permittivity,” I offered her a forehoof as I tried to remember who this mare was- “You’re Rosetta’s old flame?” She met my hoof and drew it to her lips before leaving a kiss on it. I flushed and looked away as she laughed again.

“Did your knight marefriend not kiss your hoof? I thought y’all were old fashioned?”

“I usually kiss hers,” I looked down as I realized what I had just told this pony.

“Kinky, but uh, I’m mostly just fucking with you. I gotta get that out of my system before they send me out into the desert on a fool’s errand,” Bajada said wistfully, before staring at her glass. “You seem like the only person here who’s immune to the fervor, and you’re not even a Desert Ranger.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m only immune because I’ve been through it before.” My words fell out of my mouth, they seemed to dry my throat as they forced themselves past my larynx.

“Pray tell?” She asked simply.

“You don’t want to know. Suffice it to say, I can feel the echoes across time. A peaceful place enticed to throw its blood and treasure into the meat grinder of war for promised glory and riches.”

“Aye, I’ve fought bandits and brigands for a decade. But what she’s talking about is nothing less than declaring war on an entire people, that just doesn’t make strategic sense.” She took a deep drink before throwing the glass down onto the counter, only the thick glass preventing the whole thing from shattering. Her forelegs were shaking.

“It depends on your point of view Bajada,” I took another drink and looked towards the merry ponies drinking away their pay. “Subjugating whole peoples is something empires undertake. Sombra’s attempt at it started the whole war.”

“That’s ancient history, and he lost.” I burst out laughing at that.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Can I smoke?”

“Only if you share.”

“What if I told you that Sombra won? That he was the lesser of two evils, or three technically.” I had to pay attention to the rougher roads of the dockside district.

“I would say you knew shit all about ancient history,” she said before bumping into me.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” she said simply before stopping and dropping to her rump and retrieving a package of cigarettes from her pocket. I lifted one of them to my horn and lit it for her. The small trickle of hot magic felt like a second heartbeat as it passed through my horn. “Thanks.”

“Well, would you ever believe me if I told you I came from a world where Sombra won? Where your gods became elemental forces of destruction?”

“I’m drunk, so go on, your voice is nice.” She took very long pulls as if she wanted to burn her lungs. With a flick, I stole it from her and took a conservative pull of my own.

“Well, what if I told you that we were in roughly the same place you were before the bombs destroyed everything?”

“I would tell you to drink and be merry because once that box is opened, the world is gonna get fucked.”

“But what if there was a little bit of time before the other side finds out how to build the bomb?”

“That would change everything, as soon as we found out the secrets to megaspells, the zebras had already made their own.” A gust of wind cut through our meager clothes as she answered.

“So you’re saying those weapons should be used on them before they have a chance to fire back?”

“You know, you sound like one of my privates asking about a ‘friend’ with weird warts on their dick,” Bajada laughed and pulled out another cigarette, waiting for me to light it. “But I dunno, that’s a helluva question. As a soldier, I say fuck em’. Better one side dies so the other lives. As a mare, I think its a fucked up question.”

“Right,” I said before lighting the cigarette and taking the first hit. This time, I wanted to burn myself, wanted cancer to tear into me already. I had everything I truly wanted here, but I knew it would all be ashes in the wind before long.

“Gimme my cig,” she growled at me, before punching my foreleg. I obliged and stared at the streetlight ahead of me. “Ain’t that your little warmonger?” She said as a large shape drifted into the light. The moment it struck her mane I knew she was right. The new colour made her look a bit jauntier. It fit her well, pure blonde was a little austere for her. She had kissed me when I made that observation. Though, I was nearly sure we used any excuse to lock lips.

“I didn’t expect to see you out here,” I yelled towards Icepick. Her head jerked and she looked at me contemplatively.

“Same,” she said before walking over to Bajada and me.

“You know, if you wanna meet your fan club, you can walk right into that bar,” Bajada said with derision clearly evident in her voice.

“I’m okay, I just want to sleep,” Icepick said without any emotion. She looked and sounded exhausted. I wanted to join her. Some part of me wanted this next month to be enjoyable, even if the taint of what was to come would never be forgotten. What would she do, if she knew the prophecy?
I shivered in my jacket as I picked myself up off of the earth and strode towards Icepick.

“I concur,” I said quietly before coming up beside her. Bajada looked at the two of us, but there was no focus in her eyes. “Goodnight, and thank you for the willing ear.”

“Ehh, I’m drunk and your accent is interesting, so we’re even.” Bajada’s words reminded me of just how foreign I was to this place. Even if sometimes I was reminded so much of home that I forgot for a moment what I had come here to do. I said nothing to either of the mares. Icepick and I trudged home in silence. If anything was the base of our relationship, it was our ability to keep pace with one another, even if that was all we could do.

By the time we next spoke to one another, we had already crawled into bed. It felt like several minutes since the lights had shut off, but in a dark room, it’s rather hard to tell how much time had passed. Icepick rolled over in bed and faced me.
“You havin’ a hard time passing out too?” She asked me simply. Her voice was quiet, with just the slightest hint of vexation. Not at me, at her own mind.
“Yes,” I replied just as softly. With a hint of a smile, I grasped her form in my magic and pulled her into my forelegs.
“We haven’t tried rutting yet…” She asked mischievously, to which I pressed my muzzle to her hornless forehead, kissing my mare softly.
“So, I’ve known you for a decent length of time, and I know what your cutie mark means. My question is: how did you ever manage to obtain a cutie mark involving explosives?” I honestly wanted to know. And perhaps forgetting about the present would be a good thing. Even as my own sheath stirred at her offer.
“It’s sweet that you wanna know more about me,” she responded softly, looking away the whole time. I squeezed her and kissed the tip of her muzzle.
“I’ll tell you mine,” my voice had a gentle singsong quality to it, as much as my weary throat could deliver.

“You know that if you do, there’s a good chance I’ll end up calling you sparky,” Icepick answered with a giggle. I had never heard her giggle before. For a brief moment, it felt like both of our years had melted away. My glare was enough of a reply for her straighten up before kissing the end of my muzzle. “I’m just saying. But uh, I can tell you my cutie mark story.”

“Thank you, I’m quite curious about your past. You don’t really talk about it.” I told her simply, to which she frowned before running her hooves up and down my back softly.

“You realize that you’re like ten times more reticent about your past than I am?” I just smiled at her and nodded for her to continue. “You’re impossible.”

Moments passed as out breaths mingled in the small space, Icepick shuffling around to find the most comfortable way to cuddle.

“Alright so, I was only a late bloomer when it comes to my cutie mark. I was the size of most mares by fourteen, and well, I was barely sixteen when I stopped getting taller… So, I was thirteen when they took my cohort out to the range. I will say the introduction to small arms course was the best part of the Ranger educational experience.”

“They gave firearms to children? How is that responsible?” I asked simply, my mind going back to the first time I touched a gun. I had been twenty.

“There were plenty of range officers, usually. Anyway, if you’ll stop being a gun prude-”

“What?”

“You heard me. It was during the second month, we were being introduced to heavy weapons, pony portable missile launchers and recoilless rifles ya know, big boom booms? Anyway, I was at the end of the line, and my partner was a smaller stallion who hadn’t been paying attention to the notes. Maybe you could say he just wasn’t as good at absorbing the facts. Well, he had the launcher set up on his shoulder and he pulled the trigger. Nothing. He got scared shitless because a recoilless rifle isn’t supposed to not go off. Well, I yelled at him to keep it on his shoulder. I went to the ignition box and reconnected the wires correctly. After that, I pulled the trigger for him and the back of the thing spewed flame. Half of a second later it exploded the target at the end of the range.”

“That’s incredible,” I said quietly.

“Yeah, it turns out that there was a good chance that the warhead would’ve exploded in the tube if I hadn’t reconnected the fuse. But the moment after the thing worked as intended, I had that telltale glow from my ass. And for that’s how I got my shrapnel Cutie mark. I helped an explosive explode.” I snuggled her closer as she finished, throwing some light up with my horn and gently caressing the closest shrapnel covered flank. She sighed and pulled me closer with her hooves, before nuzzling my neck gently.
“That’s an impressive talent, and an exciting story,” I told her softly, just before kissing her forehead. “Mine isn’t nearly as exciting. I was in a classroom as opposed to a firing range.”
“Honey, I’m badass and you’re the egghead, we knew that already,” Icepick said after moving her head from my neck to look me in the eyes. My hornlight died as she kissed me on the lips. A moment passed as we kissed-
“As I was saying, we were doing a unit on electricity, having us rotate magnets around coils of wire connected to light bulbs. When it was my turn to spin it, I felt the electrons flow through the wire. When I focused on the wire my horn started to glow. When that happened, I saw all the current flowing. It was like all the wires were filaments. The ones in the walls were bright, the weak currents created by the magnets were barely lit. I got a little caught up on my first magnet though, spinning it with my horn wasn’t something the teacher took into account. I was the only unicorn in the class. When I burned the lightbulb out he took me aside and sent me to the headmaster.”

“That fucking prick!” Icepick said loudly, looking me in the eyes, and even in the dark, I could tell she was angry on my ten-year-old self’s behalf.

“I only realized later that I had gotten my mark using my magic to view the electricity I was creating, that made up for any punishment.” As I said this, she moved a hoof over to my flank, as if she was feeling the contours of my mark. Or it was purely amourous. It was hard to tell with her sometimes.

“So, electricity must have been pretty new to you all,” Icepick said a moment later, a slight smile on her face. “Earth pony engineering at its finest.”

“I mean, rediscovering the old ways-” She cut me off by pressing a hoof to my mouth. Not the one caressing my mark. Her other one.

“Relax, I know about your origins,” her words were as soft as her expression. “You don’t need to hide from me, stallion of my dreams. Gods, that sounded sugary enough to give me a cavity.” It didn’t matter though, my heart rate shot up and my muscles tensed. She felt it as I did.

“I-I…” The moment had happened, she knew. The stallion of my dreams…

“It’s alright, you probably have really good reasons to hide where you came from, first probably being no-one would believe you if you told them.” Icepick paused and nuzzle me again. “It’s okay Perm. I have to ask though, you uh ever have dreams about me?” I sighed and rubbed her back softly, trying to get my breathing back under control.

“Yes, I had many dreams as the mare in the desert. The mare of my dreams,” I managed to say after a silent moment. My voice was faint. Almost haunted. She would know soon, the real reason why I came. She kissed me on the lips and pulled her chest against mine. Her fur was warm against mine, it felt solid, even if nothing else was.

“Aww, so you felt me eat, piss and masturbate too?” She asked with a laugh.

“Um, yes? I take it the experience is mutual?” I said with a nervous chuckle.

“No wonder we’re so good together, walk in another mare’s horseshoes, that kinda thing. I mean, didn’t you wonder how I knew all the right places on you…” Icepick stopped to think and give me some room to reply. She didn’t see why I was here. She would’ve killed you if she knew that. At least, she would’ve then.

“I just assumed you were that skilled in the… coital arts?” She giggled again at me, before running her hoof along my flanks and withers.

“I mean, I am,” she flashed a predatory grin at me for a split second, “but being there when you fucked that cute Pegasus was pretty instructive.”

“Please don’t mention her.” I turned away. Her hooves drifted over me as I moved.

“Why?” She asked with a tone of nonchalance. I sighed and turned to face her once again. My horn lit up with a pale light, nearly glacial. Perhaps it was some fragment of home resurfacing. Some part of me that could never forget.

“It didn’t end well Icepick. For some time, I thought she was the one.”

“Oh,” Icepick sighed and looked me in the eyes. For what wasn’t the first time, I realized that short of albinism, we would have blue-eye foals. Even if she wasn’t the most tacit mare, she had a good heart. Then again, so did Trace. The mare who I had left without a note. What had happened to her? My mind reeled. It was too much. Whatever that necklace had been doing to me, it had helped me focus on the here and now. But, it was gone. And I was left to pick up the pieces.

“It’s not your fault, you only saw bits and pieces Icepick. Suffice it to say, she loved me and I broke her heart.”

“Why did you do that? What did you do?” Icepick asked tenderly. Her mood had shifted, my big mare was trying to soothe me. I hadn’t talked to anypony about it before. Maybe my communications with the doctor and Sombra counted. No, they really weren’t ponies.

“I wasn’t, aren’t right in the head Icepick. I’ve been unbalanced. What I did was easy to explain though. I came here.” I replied, letting my horn wink out even as my stomach churned. The pain was real. I would’ve preferred another rifle wound at that moment.

“You’re a good buck, and I’m glad you came. I-”

“She probably thinks I’m dead. I just disappeared to her, and to him.”

“What? You didn’t tell them goodbye?” Icepick bit her lips and pulled me closer to her again. I acceded to the contact, but I wasn’t truly in the mood to reciprocate yet.

“It was a short term… Offer. And I wasn’t in the right state of mind to refuse,” I said to her. “I’ll tell you why I wasn’t right in the head if you promise to give me time for how I got here.”

“I promise Perm, just tell me,” Icepick said.

“It’s about something you might not understand. I lost my parents in the war-”

“I know about that, you set up a funeral with your brother. Your taller, bigger brother,” She teased. I didn’t laugh though. The reminder that I hadn’t said anything to him either. It was like a lance through my innards. I wanted to get out of bed and hit the bottle of rum in my bag. I would’ve even liked to see my nephew or niece. I could’ve been a good uncle, maybe help shape them into a pony better than their parents-

“He’s a wonderful pony,” I looked up at her. Would I trade it all back if I had the option? Have one world become a dream. No, if things went the right way, the worlds would intertwine. And maybe this wonderful mare could forgive me. Maybe the Empire would build a mighty fleet to cross the sea… “Not without his flaws, but who lacks those?”

“Not me, not you, maybe Rosetta?” Icepick said with a bitter laugh.

“I was wounded at the time, these scars you see were fresh then, and I had just learned of the super bomb. The bomb that ended the war. The bomb that damned my world.”

“That’s why you said…” She asked softly.

“What did I say? It doesn’t matter what I once said. That world is gone, for me at least. I have nothing left there. At least here, I have had a chance to build something worthwhile. Something that can last. I’d love to be part of your life- for forever Icepick. If you wanted me.”

“I do. Perm, I can’t say that I’ve never felt things for other ponies before- but I know you feel the same.” She stopped and looked away. The pink in her mane seemed to glow in the light. “You can’t just leave your home though, it’s a part of you for better or worse. It made you.”

“You say that having fallen in love with this place. You’ve changed your mane, and your ears all to better fit this place. You can even go home again.”

“I haven’t given up my past. I’m still the soldier mare you met, well, either a year ago or about a month ago. Depending on how you count. And I know you like the ear studs, you’ve always loved my ears. That’s not the point, you devious verbal evader-” I stopped her with a hoof to her lips.

“I tried to protect you, and myself from what transpired in that other place. But, I’ll tell you what I tried to obscure: I committed suicide. I nearly succeeded as well.” I looked her in the eyes, and the moment that I saw a hint of wetness in her eyes, I choked up in sympathy. My own breath hitched as I remembered the smell of the coal gas drifting into my flat. “That world killed me. Rather, it forced to make a decision that would’ve been my last. Is that reason enough to forget it? I want to be a new buck. This world is my chance Icepick. Back where I came from, I was merely a casualty. Here, I’m a hero.” She said nothing to that for a long time. All she did was pull me to her warm chest once again.

“No, you were a brother, a son, and a lover.” Icepick said before letting out a long-held breath. There was a halting quality to her words. All of these concepts were ones that seemed alien to her, but she knew they were important to the ponies of paradise. And through them, she knew me.

“Yes, and I failed on all counts. That world is better off without me.” I said to her before letting out a breath. “Icepick, I nearly died in Copper Springs. And it would’ve been a valiant death. I was ready to die, I regret nothing about that night. I spent time thinking about how you would remember me. And to see you build a funeral pyre out of burning bodies for me, it made me feel… Significant. Now, do you see why I want to forget certain things?”

“I do,” she stared me down, eyes gleaming softly in the darkness. “But we can’t do that. Even if you made mistakes in your life, you can’t just give it all up because they’re painful. Trust me, I know how it is to hate your own past. But we have to recognize it, and maybe, just maybe, refute it. Permittivity, I want the wars to be done. I want to hang up my guns. And most of all, I want you beside me, after it’s all over.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to keep that vision alive. Through all the tumult and strife to come.” I kissed her nose lightly.

“We’ve had enough of that already. I just wanna skip to the happy ending.” I forced a smile onto my muzzle. A second later Icepick relieved me from that duty with a kiss. There was no reply in words.

“So did you pull anything out of a patient today?” Icepick asked Rosetta from across the table. The stallion changed from pink in the face to red in seconds.
“N-no!” He sputtered at the question as the rest of the table either chuckled or gave her a critical look. I was in the former category.
“Icepick, you know he of all ponies shouldn’t talk about work at the dinner table,” Page Turner said to Icepick, as she sat there chewing on her noodles.
“I mean he saves lives, let’s be mature,” Icepick replied swiftly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Page just rolled her eyes and refused to take the bait. Dalliance looked over at Icepick and winked at her.
“I discovered today that the fuel for your spark reactors is vacuum potential,” I broke the silence a moment later to everyone’s surprise.
“What?” Icepick asked after a moment’s pause.
“Well, I was reading a technical manual on the subject, and it mentioned the process of energy creation wasn’t dependent on converting, or combusting gemstones themselves. The Gemstones are merely used as a way to guide the vacuum energy into a usable form. Although eventually, the process degrades the conduits, hence their need to be replaced.”
“Oh that, yeah. I had my reactor chamber replaced like a month ago. The buck who did it told me that if you don’t have the conduit calibrated correctly and you turn it on, you’ll explode like a few kilos of TNT,” She spoke mostly offhandedly even as she revealed the fact her armor was a walking bomb.
“They miniaturized the technology to that degree?” I asked with considerable consternation.

“How else do you think they powered the walking death suits? Internal combustion?” Page barked, before rolling her eyes at us.

“It’s just impressive page, how far the old world managed to advance in so little time,” I defended myself with an appeal to ancestor worship, which normally would’ve been taken with some degree of reverence, but I misjudged my hosts.

“It’s not really that impressive. Really, it all comes down to necessity and demographics. They are only about two hundred thousand ponies in all the colonies and in the city itself. And we aren’t in the middle of a multi-decade arms race. Equestria was and had millions upon millions of ponies living within her borders. That’s a lotta scientists, engineers and magicians all working to make things better at killing zebras.” Page finished her explanation with a huff. Her eyes showed an understanding of the past that others lacked. Even if she had never been in a war herself, she knew loss.

“I mean, it wasn’t just killing zebras, it was also to kill Arabs, Dragons, Wendigos, and Buffalo,” Icepick added with a dry laugh. “I mean, you have to give them credit for holding on as long as they did. They were stupid in a lot of ways, but they fought half the world and were in the process of winning with one of their hooves tied behind their back.”

“No, that’s nothing to be proud of. War doesn’t lead to anything worth venerating. War leads to dead people and people who wish they were dead,” Page replied to Icepick in a voice that seethed with an undercurrent of anger.

“Well, Pacifism works great when the other side wants to leave you alone, but that isn’t always the case. Like when a bunch of Arabs trash one of your towns.” I put a hoof on Icepick’s shoulder, to which she shrugged it off and stared at Page.

“Sure, let’s start playing the fucking bugles and flying the flag. Let’s start a war against an entire ethnic group, and you know, the ponies that were here first.” Page had met Icepick’s gaze.

“I agree with my mother, I don’t know if a war is the answer for that attack,” Rosetta added softly.

“What? Rosetta, they burned down your home and killed your neighbors!” Icepick stood up from the table and pointed a hoof at him.

“They don’t speak for all Arabs,” he said simply. “Is killing more ponies really the answer?”

“Of course you’d think that momma’s boy that you are,” Icepick nearly yelled.

“Get out!” Page yelled back. “You come here from the desert, and just because you managed to impress a few ponies with a horrific act of violence, you think you deserve to us to fight a war.”

“Okay, well, when the fucking Arabs come here and start to rape and murder you en masse, maybe you’ll change your mind,” Icepick yelled back before looking at me. “Come on Perm, time to spend some of that war loot on a hotel room.”

“Icepick please, everyone please,” I said to the lot of them. The only pony who didn’t look at me like I had betrayed them was Dalliance. And she was busy massaging Page Turner’s neck.

“What Perm? Are you above it all? Above the anger and emotions on display here?” Icepick asked with venom dripping from her voice. “I’ve lost friends, and what amounts to my family to Arabs. That horrific act of violence you talked about, eh, it wasn’t even my plan. I straight up copied something they did to us. It almost got me too, if I hadn’t been off chasing a couple insurgents.”

“So that makes anything you do to them alright?” Page yelled back. “Because that kinda logic makes the whole world burn.”

“The world would’ve been saved if we had just dropped the bomb as soon as we had it, Perm understands that, even if he has to be drunk to admit it.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” I said softly, yet firmly. “I’m your lover, not your yes mare.”

“Whatever Perm, you know I’m right about the war, about the need to fix things once and for all.” Icepick said quickly.

“No, there will be no crusade. The Ponies here don’t really understand the logistics of war, the sacrifices.” Page stopped speaking for a second as she began to lose her composure. A few tears began to stud her cheeks in the artificial light, our meal forgotten. “I know what the cost is. Icepick, you’re a good mare, but you haven’t lost everything to war. The father of Rosetta lost his life fighting a warband of tribal ponies up in the northern wastes.”

Icepick was silent at that. She sat down in her chair and took a sip of water while looking at the table. After a moment she glanced at me, or rather my still healing chest wound. I didn’t have to dig into her mind to realize what she was thinking about.

“I didn’t know,” was all she said before leaning over the table and kissing me on the cheek. “I did it for him, it was a funeral pyre.”

“I see.” Page Turner said after a minute. The room had a lost its tension, in its place was an enervating stillness.

“I’m going to get a breath of fresh air, if you would like to join me Icepick, I would appreciate the company,” I said after a few moments of oppressive silence. I was not comfortable being compared to a dead husband and father of my friend. I may have been suicidal in the past, and a monster at present, what I couldn’t take was the thought that I might leave a psychic scar on ponies close to me.
“I’ll join you,” Icepick said simply.
“You can come back, I spoke out of anger,” Page Turner said to us as we started down the stairs.

“Alright,” I said to them as we made our way out. The streets would be interesting, as they always were here. Maybe they could shift our mood.

It was late. And I was on my way home from the university library. The moon shone brightly in the cloudless sky. There was just enough light to cast a shadow below me. A reminder of my impact on the world. I tried not to think about it, even as my lungs burned.

The walk home was my time to think. I detested it for that reason. Every moment I had to myself was a moment that I wanted less of. For that reason, I started trotting to and from work. Most ponies thought I was for fitness, hell Icepick thought that too.

‘I should have a monopoly on making you sweat.’ She said the first time I came in with moisture on my brow. She didn’t mind though, she had found a job with that pre-war mall. Icepick the security mare. They didn’t give her a gun or anything, in fact, she just stood around wearing a uniform. It was honestly a great way of advertising for them. That and the one time someone attempted to steal a piece of jewelry from the store, she managed to tackle them to the floor. That was fun to read about in the papers-

“Come here,” A familiar voice said in a harsh tone to me as a trotted past an alleyway.

“What?” I asked loudly as I stopped to look into the alleyway. If the streets in this part of the city were poorly lit, that place was like the void between the stars. Before I could say anything further, she treaded lightly into the street itself, checking to see that it was deserted aside from me, and pulled down her hood. The pony standing before me was indeed familiar.

I did as she suggested originally and stepped into the dark alleyway. The tension on her face as she went back into hiding was palpable. Why was she here if she had avoided taking the trip with us when she had the chance?

“I needed to talk to someone who could help. And you’re the only one I have anything approaching trust.” She stopped and grabbed my hoof, pulling me further back into the alley.

“Help with what? You understand how dangerous it is for you to be here,” I said as she pulled the both of us behind a dumpster. She sat down and I did the same, my eyes slowly adjusted to the low light as my body realized how close this mare was to me.

“I’m not an imbecile. I know that my life is likely forfeit if I’m discovered.” She was quiet, but the intensity of her words would’ve given any pony concern. “No, it is Tegarni that is the threat.”

“Threat how? He’s already attacked a town looking for Icepick and me,” I replied with curiosity.

“He found a zebra submarine from before the war,” She said tersely.

“One ship is a nuisance, not something to turn the tide of a war,” I answered quickly. That couldn’t be-

“It’s not the vessel, it’s the cargo. There’s a balefire missile still in its launch tube. He’s been trying to get it operational for some time, and it needs to be stopped.” She told me with a sober expression, her eyes piercing mine.

“Why did it take you so long to tell me? I’ve been here for over a month.”

“I made my way back to a base for my people, far to the south. There, my friend, the commander of the base, had just received correspondence from Tegarni. He is within Tegarni’s inner circle, hence the letter. It spoke of the missile and its rough location along off the coast. The submarine is beached on the edge of a rocky outcropping.”

“How was it not found previously?” I asked her incredulously.

“It is in the midst of many navigational hazards, rock outcroppings, and sandbars,” she answered quickly, though the vexation was showing on her face.

“I don’t know what I can do personally,” I answered honestly. I was just one pony. And if balefire was equal to the bomb used on the Celestians, then it could be used to change the world with one stroke.

“You’re an intelligent stallion, think of something, some ponies or some ploy. I’ll join you on whatever undertaking you think will work. For now, though, I’ve spent too much time in this alley. When you need to find me, don’t bother. I’ll find you. Just wear something green on your form at night. That will be the signal you would like to meet.”

“Alright,” I let out a deeply held breath. Well, if I wasn’t stressed before… Was this part of the plan? To let Tegarni destroy Ramsgard or Paradise? That would certainly weaken any resistance. “Why green?”

“It’s uncommon, and I like it. Green is rare here. Green is the color of life, and that is the thing that binds us all together.” She said as she turned to leave the alley. With one an indecipherable look, she threw her hood back onto her head and trotted away.

A stiff breeze seemed to carry her away. This time was always going to be an aberration. This was just a crack in the facade and not even the first at that.

“Hey, you’re home!” Icepick said loudly as I entered the house proper. It was late. Page Turner and Dalliance had likely gone to bed already. With a glance towards the kitchen, I spotted Rosetta making a drink.
“I need to talk to you and Rosetta,” I said solemnly. Her face warped when she heard my words.

“What is it?” She asked immediately, even as I started walking towards the kitchen, and our friend.

“Something of a problem,” I said morosely. Rosetta looked up from his shaker, eyeing the two of us critically. He usually liked to drink alone.

“What’s up?” He asked as he poured his concoction into a glass filled with ice.

“I have news from an unlikely, yet familiar source.” I paused and looked at that glass. I knew from experience that the active ingredient in it was liquor made from a desert plant. It was disgusting. “May I have a sip of that?” My hooves shook slightly as my mind went back to the information I had learned.

“Sure?” He knew as well as I did that I hated his drinks. Icepick stood beside me, placing a hoof on my shoulder and looking at me with concern. Neither of them were perfect ponies, but they were my friends. I drank half the glass and sputtered slightly at the taste. Who would add citrus to liquor?

“So, I was trotting home, after the librarians gave me a series of dirty looks. When I heard a voice from a dark alleyway. I stopped and looked at them. They removed their hood-”

“Who was it?” Icepick asked impatiently. The refrigerator opened with a hiss as she fished out a drink of her own.

“It was Crescent Moon,” I paused and took a deep breath. “She found out about Tegarni’s secret.”

“What? She’s in the city?” Icepick asked angrily, before popping the top off of her beer.

“Yes, but what she told me is worth the risk to her. Tegarni found something from before the war, a zebra submarine, equipped with at least one remaining balefire missile.” The was a silence in the room as I told them this.

“He could destroy Paradise.”

“He could blow up Ramsgard.”

They spoke simultaneously, fresh fear on their faces. I looked at each of them in turn. Icepick’s face was writhing in fear and uncertainty. Rosetta’s face was steeled.

“Yes, so we’re agreed that we need to stop it from becoming operational?” I asked them both. Rosetta nodded immediately. Icepick looked down before meeting my eyes.

“I really don’t trust any Arab. But even if there’s a one percent chance of it being real, that’s too much of a chance for us to ignore it.” Icepick said resolutely.

“The only issue is, well, even if we have her with us there’s four of us. And we have no way of getting to the island…” I stopped talking and thought for a second. “We might have a few more ponies we can recruit. I’d need to talk to that one mare, Bajada.” Rosetta scowled involuntarily.

“We can trust her, and she’d be willing to go out with us on this secret mission. Still, we need a fucking boat.” Rosetta said a moment later.

“Or we could tell the authorities in Paradise, or the Rangers, they’ve got to be here soon,” Icepick said with hesitation in her voice. “Hey, I’m just laying the options out.”

“Well, the biggest issue is, we don’t know where the island is,” I paused to let that sink in. “And frankly, I don’t blame Crescent for not trusting either government with a weapon of that magnitude. At least if we and a small group of ponies attack with some degree of stealth we can destroy the weapon.”

“Can we even do that safely? It’s a balefire bomb.” Rosetta asked pointedly, before knocking back the remains of his drink.

“Hey, if there’s a bomb, I’m the way.” Icepick said before turning herself, and pointing at her flank. “Besides, if I remember anything about Megaspells, it’s that they’re really really hard to trigger. Like, other than the egg itself. Those things are bloody dangerous. Or so I’ve read.” Icepick finished with a grin. Some part of her was utterly confident about the prospect of getting up close and personal with the weapon that destroyed the world.

“Sure,” Rosetta replied warily. Icepick just laughed, with a hint of self-consciousness residing deep inside it. Just another reminder that Icepick was well: the Destroyer.

I shivered again and walked over to the cabinet in search of the bottle of black rum I had bought a few days ago.

“I don’t think we can do anything right now. And honestly, the idea of leaving this place and marching in the direction of danger is terrifying.” I spoke honestly, before taking a straight pull from the half-empty bottle.

“Well, maybe for you pansies,” Icepick spoke with a false confidence. Both of us knew well enough to see through it. “I’m itching for some more action. I was getting bored.” Her hoof on my shoulder drifted down to my chin, she turned my head slightly, before kissing me full on the lips. Her tongue drifted into my mouth. “Damn, you taste like sugar, sugar.”

“It’s the rum,” Rosetta said from his position a meter away. The drink did usually make him less flustered. I passed him the bottle as Icepick looked at me lustily. He took a long pull from the bottle as well. Icepick smiled deviously before moving with lightning speed over to Rosetta. Before we could react she pressed her lips to his. Moments passed as I remembered my own past, and Icepick’s. She had a different way of looking at the world, I thought to myself, even as jealousy and arousal mixed in my mind.

“Not bad,” Icepick said after releasing Rosetta to sputter and back up a few feet and shoot nervous looks at me. She looked at me with a curious expression in her eyes. It would be just like her to ask for permission after the fact. “But nah, you’re naturally sweeter.”

I stood there in silence as Rosetta took another pull, he looked like he had done something wrong. I took the bottle in my magic and drank another sip myself after him. Icepick then stole it and took a drink herself.

“Oh come on, I’ve seen the way you both look at each other. And now it’s basically like you’ve kissed already. I just got to be the lucky middle mare.”

“Uh,” was all Rosetta said as he tried to wrap his mind around this scenario.

“Icepick let’s go to bed,” I said as I wrapped a tendril of magic around her shoulders and applied a bit of pressure.

“Rosetta, we’ll talk about this later, when we’re all a little less fucked up,” I said to him as I nuzzled Icepick and continued guiding her back to the room. I didn’t blame her too much, she was from a different culture. And Rosetta was a great stallion. I sighed and pulled the door open, before laying Icepick on the bed. With a hind leg, I managed to shut the door, just before I myself crawled into bed with my intoxicated marefriend.

“You’re a frisky mare tonight,” I said to her as she pressed her face into my chest. One of her hooves slid over the spot where the knife had been buried in my side. I had to stop myself from shaking in remembrance.

“Yeah, sometimes people have funny reactions when they learn their biggest enemy has a weapon of mass destruction,” Icepick slurred her words. Her meaning was clear.

“Yes, that is a lot of pressure dropped upon us,” I said as I stroked her mane softly. I could feel her warm breath being blown against my chest.

“I mean, it’s all gonna feel like a dream soon,” she said plaintively to me.

“What will?” I asked, knowing the answer in every breeze, in my heart, and being reminded of it with every quiet moment.

“This,” she said simply. I said nothing. My hooves continued to stroke her mane, one of them even drifting over to her ears. There was a soft coo from her when I folded her ear down. “It’ll all be gone, one way or another. The stallion of my dreams, disappearing back into the whirling winds… Desert or tundra, it’s all the same.”

“I won’t disappear,” I said. “I have nothing left in that other world. I’ll fight for this one with everything bit of spirit I have left.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Icepick replied. I blinked my horn to light and bent down. My hinds were nearly poking off of the bed, but my eyes were staring into hers. I saw something I had never expected to see in her eyes. Tears.

“I’ll be as careful as can be. Just because someone is ready to lose their life for something greater doesn’t mean they want to.”

“It doesn’t matter Perm,” she tried to blink away the bits of water in her eyes. “You’re flesh and blood, you’re alive. There’s always a risk in that. Being a pony is dangerous. At least when I’m in my armor, I’m protected. Even if I feel less like a pony than a ghost that’s stayed around for a century to wreak havoc on what’s left.”

“I hate it when you talk about yourself like you’re less than pony.” My reply caught her off guard.

“Not less than, just different.” Icepick huffed slightly. “You’re a pony that was made to adapt to war. I was bred and raised for it. And for some reason, the conditioning stuck Perm. Other’s are cowards, or stupid enough to think they’re actually invincible. They die. Ponies like me, we usually live long enough to breed. At least that’s the way it has been for a century.”

“I-” She cut me off with a hoof.

“I’ll be the last generation of them,” Icepick paused to let out a held breath. “Either Tegarni wipes out Ramsgard, leaving us a shattered shell. Or we manage to beat him, and all the normal ponies here breed with us. We start normal families, and we have the strength to defend ourselves from all comers.”

“Let’s aim for winning then, and living to see the fruits of our labor.”

“It’s not gonna happen that way. But, I would like to live another dream with you. Maybe we could raise some relatively normal foals,” She smiled at me with an ornery grin. “You taste like you could give me some kids.” I choked loudly before chuckling.

“You’re a lewd pony,” I told her simply. “Enough thinking for tonight, it’s clearly not good for us.” My lips met hers moments later. The beer and rum did make her mouth a little sweeter. I hoped she knew she was gonna have to cut that stuff out with a foal in her belly…

Relatively normal. That was the aspiration. Fitting for the two of us.

Author's Notes:

Sorry about the long wait. The next chapter is nearly ready to be published too though! So you'll have plenty of words to read soon.

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On My Way (XVI)

The knocking on the door was annoying, my head fucking ached, and my hooves were shaky as I unlocked the door with my hooves. What really gave me a migraine was the pony on the other side.

“Hey uh, Icepick,” Wellbore Axis said from behind the door. “Perm let me in.”

“Goddamnit Perm, it’s probably not even nine o’clock,” I yelled out into the house.

“Icepick, it’s noon!” Perm yelled back from the other side of the house.

“Oh shit,” I said in a softer voice. I looked back to Axis, who was standing there with an odd expression on her face.

“I would comment on you two being like an old married couple,” she flashed a shit-eating grin at me. Personally, I didn’t really know how married couples were supposed to work, other than them not fucking a lot apparently. Which I knew Perm and I didn’t have that issue. “But, you should come to the Harbor. Something big just blew in.”

“A piece of driftwood? A fishing boat?”

“No, a flotilla of rangers,” she bit her lip for a moment, “your kind of ranger.”

My yawn died on my lips. I looked at her for any hint of deception. I saw none.

“Let’s go!” I yelled in some kind of jubilation. Even as last night’s conversation filled my mind’s eye.

“Atta girl,” Axis said, just as Permittivity came around the corner wearing his saddlebags and clothes. He forced a smile onto his muzzle in sympathy.

The streets were busy, with a steady clamour of voices and ideas. When ponies recognized me for who I was, they seemed more strained. Their smiles seemed a little more like Perm’s when they met my gaze. All the while, Axis took point, pushing some out of the way with her voice and mollifying others with her resolute attitude.

“Your comrades have caused quite a stir,” Permittivity said from beside me. His coffee must have kicked in, he seemed a little peppier now.

“Well, if they brought in the Ember by itself, I wouldn’t be surprised if the ponies here started spontaneously singing a song ” I replied with a smirk.

“Huh?” He responded to that like a brick being smacked with a mallet.

“Well, first off, the Ember is a pre-war heavy cruiser that we’ve kept maintained. It has those 230-millimetre guns that make the deck shake…” I stopped speaking as Axis and Permy were giving me strange looks. “Or so I’ve heard-”

“That does kinda sound like the biggest ship they have parked out there,” Axis said while rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. “Is it parked if it’s a boat?” She added, to herself.

“It’s docked,” Permittivity added sweetly. I was starting to think he drank a cup of Shetland Coffee.

“I can totally see Churned sending an honour guard up here,” I said to them as we started walking again.

“Anyone, you particularly want to be in said guard?” Permittivity asked with curiosity thrumming in his voice.

“I’d love to know that my friends are well, alive! Yeah, that would be pretty good,” I answered automatically as the thoughts of coming home a hero flooded my mind. Then the inevitable caveat leapt into my mind. If there’s a home to return to-

“Iron Sight? Perhaps that Agave filly?” Permittivity questioned with a smile on his muzzle. Something about him today seemed very carefree.

“I would love to see Iron. Agave, I guess I could rub my success in her face,” I added with a laugh. Well, if he could be happy, then I could at least try to be happy too.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you as well, they likely thought you were dead given your last actions among them,” Permittivity said with a bit of hesitation.

“Yeah,” I said simply. Being dead in your friend’s eyes isn’t fun. There’s usually a good story in there somewhere though.

When we arrived, the Desert Rangers and Police had already begun to start controlling the crowds. I muscled my way to the front of the crowds, with Permittivity and Axis at my side, I waited with the rest for the smaller ship to come to the end of the pier. Eventually, a metal walkway extended from the front of the ship, on the side of the ship I spotted a bank of torpedo tubes and a small turret erected on the bow of the ship. It looked like a turret off of a tank, probably 90 millimetres in diameter. I couldn’t make out whether the barrel was rifled. If it was, then I would know for sure it was surplus from the Ursa Major line.

“Knights in shining armour,” Permittivity said in a low voice as the honour guard, just eight ponies descended the ramp and formed a double line at the hoof of the ramp. The stood stock still as one other pony wearing Star-Paladin markings on their armour made their way down. Beside them was a paladin first class. They made it to the bottom of the ramp, before walking past the honour guard and up to the Desert Rangers guarding one of the Paradise Council members. I was maybe twenty meters from them. The steel barricade having been put in place when the crowds were even closer to the pier. Then, they took off their helmets and I gasped.

Reflex and Iron Sight stood there with their helmets strapped to the backs of their armour. I couldn’t hear the words they said, but I was standing with my head and upper body over the barricade.

“Hey Reflex, hey Iron!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. The two of them turned to face me, their jaws dropping in sequence as they met my eyes.

One of the security ponies moved to stop me but Iron shook her head at him. Moments later that same security pony looked at me harshly, before unlatching the metal bars and letting me and Perm through.

“You’re actually alive!” Ironsight tried to keep a serious look on her face as I walked over to the first official contact between our peoples.

“Yep,” I’m the one that got this nice mare to send ships your way,” I added with my first genuine smile of the day.

“Yes, and you responded by sending quite a few of your own vessels here.” The council mare responded. She was one of the more outgoing members of the council here, Blueberry Bonds.

“We came here to send a message,” Reflex started to say, looking her in the eyes, his armoured bulk compared to her light business suit saying something as well. “Neither of us are alone anymore on this savage continent.”

“That’s all well and good, but was sending a battleship necessary?” She huffed slightly as her eyes drifted over to Ember.

“It’s a heavy cruiser,” Permittivity spoke up for the first time. Of course, it was in the most Pedantic way possible. “Battleships don’t carry torpedo tubes.”

“And who are you exactly?” Blueberry said to him, a hint of a suppressed scowl surfacing on her face.

“That is a good question,” Reflex added moments later.

“He’s my boyfriend, and he’s also the one that knows critical intelligence about the Arabs,” I said while looking first at Blueberry critically, and then Reflex curiously.

“Oh well, let me just grab my husband, he has critical intelligence on what the ants are doing to my front yard,” Blueberry said scathingly.

“They burned down one of your towns!” I said loudly enough to rouse the attention of the nearest Desert ranger.

“Yes, so we must go on a crusade to destroy all the myriad bedouin tribes floating through the inhospitable desert,” the councilmare said.

“That won’t be-” I was cut off by Reflex.

“If only they were ants to be crushed by a single stomp of a sabaton,” Reflex said wearily. “Alas, we aren’t that lucky.”

“Ah, the diplomatic warrior,” Blueberry said with a sigh. “Just tell me what you want out of us.”

“I’ve heard that you’re headed by an executive council, we would like to discuss a bilateral trade and immigration treaty with them, everything else can be left for a more formal diplomatic process,” Ironsight said cooly.

“That’s agreeable, we should be able to set up an emergency council meeting tomorrow,” Blueberry told Ironsight courteously enough.

“Are the two of us free to leave our armour and weapons on the ship and tour the city?”

“As the acting representative, I give you that privilege as diplomats. We’re a free people, with nothing to hide from you.” Blueberry finished before turning her back.

“Wait here Icepick, we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Alright, I’ll keep these Desert rangers company,” I said just before the security began to disperse. “Well shit,” I turned to Perm. He was watching my old friends walk back to their small ship.

“That’s a yacht, not a warship,” Permittivity said thoughtfully.

“Why do you say that?” I asked him curiously, before leaning against him, laying my head on his shoulder and sniffing his mane.

“The hull is welded, and the armour plate is riveted to the preexisted hull,” Permittivity said quietly, before rotating his body out of my heads reach.

“I see,” I said quietly. The heady smell of salt in the air made me remember the last time I had been to this pier. The salt must’ve smelled the same to my ancestors crossing the ocean, not knowing they would never go home. It would be horribly ironic if Tegarni managed to balefire bomb Ramsgard…

“What are you thinking about?” Perm said before nuzzling my neck softly.

“Oh, nothing, just the thought of my home city being wiped out by a single enchanted dragon egg.” I paused and let out a deep breath as he looked at me sympathetically. “I’m starting to understand why the ponies in the past were mental. I don’t know how you stay sane knowing everything you love and fight for could be immolated at any time.”

“Yes,” he said simply. Because of course, he would. His world hadn’t yet blown itself up the first time, but they had no idea when their enemies would gain the power of megaspells. “It’s a poison to your mind. Everything becomes justifiable when it takes hold,” he finished just as a cold breeze blew in from the harbour.

“We’ll tell Reflex and Ironsight,” I told him. His lips slipped into a neutral position.

“Would you like to take them out to dinner, something tells me we won’t have the opportunity for fine dining soon. And well, the last of the specie is burning a hole in my saddlebags.”

“That, that sounds great.”

A moment later, as my lover and I stood side by side, my friends walked down the ramp wearing nothing more than light jackets and saddlebags.

“Hello! Are you looking for a specific book? We just got the newest reprint of Daring Do!” Page Turner said to Ironsight as she led the four of us into the bookshop.

“So you’re selling books? New books,” Ironsight said quizzically. Her brother stepped in and smiled at Page.

“Haha, sis, good one.” Perm and I stepped into the room, just watching how these ponies would interact. “Could I look at the book, I’ve only read one of the daring do books, and it was in very poor condition.”

“That’s interesting, sure,” Page said as she levitated out a copy to Reflex, who deftly grabbed it with a hoof and inspected the dust jacket.

“The workmareship on this book is really impressive, it looks as glossy as the pre-war books must have when they were new,” Reflex hoofed it back to her before clearing his throat.

“I’ve read it,” I spoke up as I walked up to my friends. “It’s only got a few places where the ghostwriter had to make up missing words or pages.”

“I take it this is a rare book?” Reflex asked nonchalantly.

“There were only five damaged copies, across multiple additions, left in all of paradise. Hyperion collected all of them, rewrote the missing sections, and then started printing these books a month ago.”

“And Hyperion is a private company?” Ironsight looked rapidly between her brother and Page.

“Yeah, it’s a family business actually. They do this kind of thing all the time, reprinting old books from before the war. I sell a decent amount of the copies they sell to me Wholesale.” Page looked at me now. Who the fuck are these weirdos?

“Hey Page, these are my friends, Ironsight and Reflex Sight,” I looked at her as she realized that these were other rangers. “They’re uh, seeing the sights of the city, I was just gonna come in and say hi, before grabbing your son and taking him out with us on a pub crawl.”

“Are they the diplomats I heard about on the radio?”

“Aye,” I smirked at her before starting towards the stairs.

“Do you want to buy some books?” Page asked the siblings as I climbed the stairs.

“Not at this moment, although I’m quite happy that Equestrian culture is being preserved by your society-” Reflex said as Perm and I made it to the top of the stairs.

Reflex’s notion reflected mine when I had heard of Hyperion, but I had gotten used to thinking of a lot of the economic activity here being directed by private ponies. It wasn’t nearly as foreign to me.

“Well, when you’re looking for a bookseller to buy from, remember me.” Page Turner said with a smile before I heard the noises of Reflex and Iron trotting up the stairs after us.

Moments later I walked into the kitchen, spotting Rosetta and Dalliance chatting over a cup of tea.

“Rosetta, you’re being conscripted into the posse,” I said to him as Perm trotted into the room before fixing himself a glass of water.

“What Posse? What is a posse?” Rosetta said as he eyed the two of us. I heard the Rangers pull up the rear and look into the living room of the apartment.

“A posse is an appoolasanism, sometime they would lynch ponies,” Dalliance said idly.

“It’s never a good sign when Icepick talks about forming a posse,” Ironsight said with a probably faked shiver.

“And uh, who are you two?” Dalliance asked as she got out of her chair and trotted up to the siblings.

“I’m star paladin Reflex Sight.”

“Paladin first class, Ironsight,” my friend added awkwardly as her older brother smiled broadly at Dalliance.

“Ah, well, you kids better stay out of trouble, and don’t lynch anyone unless they deserve it,” Dally finished before going back to the table and sipping her tea.

“So what are we doing exactly?” Rosetta said as he walked over to us. He met Ironsight and Reflex’s eyes in turn. Rosetta and Reflex were about the same height and a little taller than Iron.

“Pub crawl,” I smiled at him and then each of my friends in turn. “After eating at Torpedo Joe’s.”

“I never should have explained the concept of a pub crawl to her,” Permittivity said with a sigh.

I had just washed up in the little fillies room when I came back to the large table we had stolen, in front of us was a basket of chips and a mysterious white sauce that tasted like fat and satisfaction. I spotted another pony who had pulled up a chair and was drinking with the rest of them.

My legs carried me over there steadily enough, I had only had two beers so far, and I went over to my chair. As my ass came down into it, I smiled internally. Still warm. Perm sat to my right, drinking his own dark ale. To my left was Reflex, drinking soda with vodka in it. He was delighted when the bar ponies showed him the small umbrellas for the fruity drinks.

“So uh, potatoes,” I said loudly.

“Indeed,” Permittivity said without looking at me. His eyes kept floating over to the mare who had pulled up.

“Potatoes are better in vodka,” the mare said, as I finally recognized her. It was that bitch from the truck. Rosetta’s ex.

“The best potatoes are grown at the source of the Senegral,” Reflex replied ready to jump in on a story about the time he had taken a gunboat up the river to explore the snow-capped mountains that kept our society fed.

“Aren’t the floodplains of a river the most fertile parts?” Permittivity asked when Reflex took a breath.

“Typically, except large parts of the Sall’hanian range is volcanic, so there’s a large number of volcanic nutrients adding to the fertility of the region,” Reflex said with an edge of annoyance at being interrupted.

“Are the volcanoes at the site of tectonic plates meeting, or a geothermal hotspot,” Perm asked him while staring the other stallion down.

“I am for sending an expedition to find out the answer to that question,” Reflex added quickly.

“And you have trained geologists ready to make observations and take samples on the way?”

“Weight and logistical constraints are eased quite a lot when old world vehicles are available,” Reflex shot back.

“Yeah, that sounds really really interesting boys,” and totally not a dick measuring contest. I reached a hoof across the table and laid one on both of their hooves. Permittivity and Reflex quieted down quite a bit when they touched me.

“Oh shit, look!” I nodded my head at the server, bringing in the beer battered fried fish.

“You had me worried there for a second Icepick,” Reflex said with a laugh as the server put down out plates in front of us.

“Why?” I moved my hooves away from the two stallions and looked at him contemplatively.

“Well, remember all the times we had dates go badly, because of like, guns being aimed at us?” I recalled about twice that this happened. Once had happened pretty recently.

“Yeah, but were those really dates?” I asked aloud. Perm’s smile made me pause though.

“I mean-” He started to say before I pressed a hoof to his lips.

“Not right now, I just want to have a nice dinner,” I looked at Perm who was smiling broadly at the pony he fancied his opponent. “And Perm, please don’t tilt at windmills.” My buck lost his grin at that. He probably regretted explaining that expression about then. I took the moment to look at Rosetta as he slugged back his drink and focused on the potatoes. A faint recollection of me kissing him floated to the surface. Then again, at least Perm liked Rosetta.

“As the lady wishes,” Permittivity said quietly.

“Yeah, what he said,” Reflex mirrored him, even as his sister and Bajada picked up their own volume.

“So, Icepick blew up a whole oil field?” Iron asked her with exasperation written on her muzzle.

“Yeah, and that was before she got on the radio and called for a crusade against the Arabs.” Bajada finished with a belch. Her own portion of fish was already half gone. That girl could teach me half a thing about packing food away. Then again, she had broken Rosetta’s heart. But was I any better? Memories of last night came back to me. I had played with both of my friend’s heads.

“That does sound a lot like her,” Ironsight added with a chuckle.

“You’re laughing about it?” Bajada was a little confused by my friend's reaction.

“Well, she basically said what we would’ve in an official capacity,” Iron admitted as I leaned back in my chair and let my stomach deal with all the protein and starch I stuffed inside it.

“We picked up the radio transmission from our ship,” Ironsight added with a more serious tone. “It’s more amazing that she’s become such a public figure here amongst your public.”

“So, you’re all kinds of okay with your PR being done by a low ranking NCO, who is literally inflammatory.”

“Just look at her, she’s a natural bridge,” I looked over at them and smiled softly.

“Honestly Icepick, I thought you were a goner when you charged into that mine alone,” Ironsight said before looking down at her food. “That wasn’t a smart move by any definition. It was horrible having to order the retreat. We came back with reinforcements, but by that time they were gone, and nothing was left of you other than shell casings.” There was a darkness in her eyes. I had done what Perm had, but worse. I was her friend, and I had acted suicidally. Maybe it took having someone I loved doing the same thing to me, to really understand what the problem with that was, but now I knew. Now I wasn’t alone.

“I’m sorry about that,” I looked at her and then over to Perm. “But that’s where I found him. And well, he saved me from Tegarni,” Permittivity flushed as I said that.

“Wait, he was at the battle too?” Ironsight asked with an odd expression on his face.

“Yes, I was in their servitude when your attack began, so I thank you for that Ironsight,” Perm leaned over the table slightly and met her eyes. I was only a bystander as I watched my two greatest allies measure one another up. It wasn’t a competition like it was between Reflex and Perm, no it was more an acknowledgement of the other’s role in my life.

“Yeah, how have things been down south?” I asked with a curious expression on my muzzle.

“The attacks have died down on Ranger facilities and industry,” Ironsight said with a neutral expression.

“That and the shipments to small arms to the rebels have stopped,” Reflex added a moment later.

“I think I know why,” I said with a dark expression on my muzzle.

“They do have ships, marepower, and firepower,” Permittivity said while raising his eyebrows at me. Rosetta looked over at us, though he looked away from Bajada. “We really ought to be talking about this in another place, but the gist is simple. Tegarni has a weapon of great power from before the war, and I know where he’s preparing it.” Permittivity said with resolve.

“How did you learn about this?” Reflex asked, his face caught between fear and disbelief.

“I can’t tell you until you agree to help,” Perm looked Reflex in the eyes. “My contact has more information than I do. But I need an agreement that you’ll do whatever it takes to accomplish this task.”

“Wait, what?” Ironsight asked with a million questions about to spill forth from her lips.

“I agree,” Reflex said, raising a forehoof to his heart and holding it there as he spoke.

“Reflex?” Iron asked as I chuckled. I guess there were some aspects of bucks competing that I could get behind.

“I don’t trust him, or his source, but if there’s even a one percent chance of them being truthful, well, I’m obligated to follow up on that,” Reflex said with a clench in his jaw and a flex of his shoulders.

“Well, we can plan later,” Rosetta spoke up for the first time in ages. “For now, we should just ourselves. Something in the air tells me this might be the last time we’ll be able to for a while.”

“You’re always so doom and gloom,” Bajada replied with a huff of annoyance.

“I’m a realist, Sall’han is a powder keg, Tegarni’s secret weapon or not,” He looked at each of us in turn. His part of the table was filled with empty glasses, he had downed more than his fair share of booze. “The more I learn about it, the more I realize the desert was a good thing.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked him immediately.

“I’m going to help you stop Tegarni, there’s nothing heroic about that stallion. But, you all see that we’ve learned nothing from the past. You Rangers don’t even pretend to be anything more than an occupying army on foreign soil, you live and breath war. And with our help, you’re way closer to rebuilding the same weapons, same economy, the same society that destroyed the world before.”

“No, I don’t believe that,” I said to him. “We’ve learned, if we invent something like the bombs, we’ll use them first.”

“What?” Rosetta gasped and looked me in the eyes. “You think that’s what damned the world? Wow, you and Permittivity do belong together.” He picked up his drink and downed it in a single gulp.

“Rosetta!” I nearly snarled at him. He was such a little fucking hypocrite.

“I’m going home, you can sleep on the couch tonight,” Rosetta said with a huff, walking home with an exaggerated straightness in his steps. Perm started to get out of his chair to go after him. I pressed a hoof to his shoulder and kept him in his seat. As soon as he was out of earshot Bajada met my eyes.

“What is his deal? He sounds like one of those prewar peaceniks, all worried about the corrosive effects of war on a nation’s soul,” Reflex said sardonically and managed to get a laugh out of Bajada.

“Yeah, he’s always been like that. He either has his head in the clouds or drifting down in one of those deep ocean trenches,” Bajada said a moment later.

“You know him personally?” Reflex asked her with a curious smile.

“He thinks he’s an ex of mine,” Bajada paused and smiled a vulture-like smile. “Really though, he was decent lay and a good friend, but he read more into me than I had to give.”

“I see,” Reflex said simply. Iron just chuckled to herself as her brother spoke.

“What is she laughing at?” Bajada asked while Perm polished off his dark beer.

“Are you sure you’ve never met before?” Iron looked at Bajada and her brother in turn.

“Positive,” Reflex answered gruffly.

“Pretty sure,” Bajada said with a laugh.

“Honestly, the only pony here who doesn’t have a good partner is me,” Iron said wistfully. “Then again, I’m a hard mare to please.”

“Maybe he just left,” I suggested with a half smile. My hoof on Permittivity drifted up to his neck.

“That’d be too fucking convenient,” Ironsight said with a wry laugh.

“I mean, I know where he lives, he’s drunk and he’s lonely,” I added half seriously. Iron and Rosetta would be a cute couple, maybe he could help tie together our peoples- And there I was, thinking like a feudal warlord again.

“You’re not a forest nymph, you don’t have the power of sexual prophecy!” Perm spoke up out of nowhere, a smile on his muzzle, but tinged with disappointment.

“I dunno, she could be a nymphomaniac at least,” Iron said with a laugh.

“Hey, just because I actually get laid, doesn’t make me a nympho,” I responded quickly, with just a tad too much defensiveness.

“Sure,” she shook her head but continued smiling. I missed my bitchy best friend a lot. Even if she was a bitch.

“Anyhow, we should probably figure out where to discuss details,” I reminded everyone of the task at hoof, I got a groan from Bajada, a smile from Perm and intense gazes from the Siblings Sight. A table away, a couple looked over at us.

“I guess I’m just low key a part of this gunpowder plot,” Bajada said with even more of a huff.

“If you don’t join it then we’ll let Rosetta play with your memories,” I added with an evil grin. “Besides, it’s more of an anti-gunpowder plot.”

“I guess I’m in then,” Bajada acquiesced with a nervous grin. “My place would be great for this. I get it swept for bugs every weekend.”

“What?” Ironsight asked.

“It’s part of my normal cleaning list: Sweep the floor, clean the litter box, check for bugs.”

“Thank you for being understanding. If you can find some other Rangers willing to fight for us, but also willing to sacrifice, uh… everything, please refer them to me.”

“I get to run HR,” I chirped. Permittivity just shrugged as the rest of the table looked at me like I was crazy.

“This isn’t a company, this is a suicide pact with more steps,” Perm said to them. Somehow, it made everypony lose that look, even as I felt annoyance bubble up at how everyone’s mood had changed.

“Well, with that fuckin’ attitude...” I said punching him in the shoulder.

“And with that act of violence, I’ll go pay the tab,” Permittivity said as he started to get out of his chair. Reflex said before turning and looking over at that eavesdropping couple. He glared at them. They went back to their drinks, heads down. When he looked back at us, he had a smile on his face.

“I’m sure I can get you a diplomatic discount, maybe I’ll offer to mention this place prominently in a report.”

“I can’t say no to that,” Permittivity said with a smile that was covering up bitterness. After they got far enough away, I looked at Bajada and Ironsight.

“Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian,” I said with a shrug.

“Same.”

“Yeah.”

“But guys smell so good, and dicks are nice,” I added a moment later.

“That’s fair,” Ironsight replied.

“Solid points,” Bajada said with a chuckle. “Damn, we talked ourselves out of that fantasy pretty fast.”

“Yeah,” I said while looking at my the two stallions talking to the guy at the bar. Males were a pain, but also a joy. Besides, I’d like to have a dad in the family…

“So this is my shithole apartment,” Bajada said to the other four of us. The door opened into a large living room with a couch, a loveseat with a phonograph radio combination in the central position. “Lemme get some background noise going.” With a slick move, she brushed past us, though she ran her tail against the sides of Perm and Reflex. The radio came to life. It was the same stallion that had interviewed me.

“So, she wasn’t kidding when she said they were strong,” He said loudly.

I took a seat close to the phonograph as Bajada went into the small kitchenette near the rear of the main area.

“Really, I expected a tank or something, maybe a big missile parade happening over there. What I didn’t expect was a fucking pre-war battleship steaming in at the head of a fleet. I guess Icepick really thinks they need more toasters or new movies because I think they have the war department handled-”

“You two, that was a power move,” I said to Ironsight and Reflex on the opposite couch. Perm and I were sitting snugly on the loveseat, his warm fur pressing against mine.

“And your radio interview wasn’t a power move too?” Reflex answered in turn. “And your cosmetic decisions, they weren’t politically motivated at all?”

“I mean, shit, you look really nice with pink in your mane and tail,” Iron said before smiling broadly at me. The last round had gotten her pretty damn fucked up. “If I was a little gayer, I’d say you were hot.” Perm only gained an incredulous grin. He seemed half paralyzed.

“Yeah, you do look a lot more exotic now,” Reflex added, somewhat aware of how close he was to his randy sibling. Memories of past-

“She was beautiful before, but now there is a more rebellious aspect to you, some part of you that only now has been allowed to be expressed,” Permittivity added. I let him finish, but the second he was done, I pulled him closer with my forehooves and kissed him deeply. For several seconds…

“Woah, you mackin’ on my loveseat,” Bajada said as she came out of her kitchen with a bottle of rye whiskey in her left hoof. Several small glasses came out with her.

“Yeah, it’s a called a fuckin’ love seat,” I said to her as I let a blushy Permittivity go. I turned to meet her eyes while letting my hoof crawl over his chest and fuzzy stomach. “Besides, you don’t seem like the kinda mare to mind me taking him for a ride on it.”

“Icepick-” Perm tried to interrupt, but Bajada spoke over him.

“Guilty as charged,” she said as she climbed into the seat between the sight siblings. Her smile was massive as she did this. “Though I would make you pay for the cleaning bill.”

“How much is it to Dry Clean a couch?” I asked aloud while smiling deviously at Perm. My hoof drifted a bit further south as I spoke. “Actually Iron, Reflex, these ponies reinvented dry cleaning, and it’s fucking amazing!”

“Cool,” Iron said as she began to look at that bottle sitting on the table in front of her while holding her head up with a foreleg.

“Honestly Icepick, making out with your friend in public, without at least a bottle being spun to spur you on,” Reflex said before making a tisk tisk noise with his mouth. I only had enough time to realize this in my inebriated state before Perm pulled me chest to chest with him on the couch, and stuffed his tongue into my unprepared mouth. Now we had a bit of cover. With a relatively subtle buck of my hips, I managed to grind against his sheath. It worked-

“So you’re both Exhibitionists,” Reflex chuckled before feeling Bajada’s hoof on the back of his withers.

“Please don’t,” Ironsight pleaded with the two other ponies on the couch, before looking at me, and realizing the kind of softcore performance I was already in the middle of. “Celestia fuck, I guess I’ll get the room.” She got up, stumbled slightly to the table, before grabbing the bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

“Night Iron,” Reflex said with a wave.

“Be careful,” Perm said to her from his position under me. A position he had put himself in, the kinky stallion.

“Try not to get each other pregnant, or catch anything,” she slurred her words before walking towards Bajada’s bedroom. The door shut, and then we heard a thump as she fell onto her bed.

“What’s her hang up?” Bajada said as she looked up at the ceiling with her head in the centre of Reflex’s crotch.

“She’s my sister,” Reflex said with a touch of anger, right before she turned her head over, and starting to nuzzle at his parts.

“Yeah, that would do it,” She said as Perm baulked and I just laughed.

The sunlight stung my tired eyes as I first came to. I raised my head up from Perm’s chest. We were laying on the loveseat together, me on top of him, the natural way of things. A thin blanket covered our lower parts, though both my crotch and the blanket seemed a bit sticky. But at least it was the dry kinda sticky.

“Rise and shine shrapnel ass,” I looked over to see Bajada sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee lifted up to her lips. Where was- On the floor in front of her slept an exhausted-looking Reflex. She really had worn him out…

“Shush. Do you have a cup for me?” I asked her wearily. Perm stirred below me as well, I picked myself off his chest and went in for a quick peck on the lips.

“No more, please!” He said with a yawn. Just to be thorough, I checked to see if little Permittivity agreed with the Perm with the brain. Aww! I guess I wasn’t waking up the best way.

“No, I made exactly one cup of coffee,” Bajada shot back with a hint of humour in her voice. I bet she had done some recruit training. “Nah, just get a cup yourself, your buck probably wants one too.”

“You don’t mind me opening all your cabinets looking for cups?” I asked her, grinning slightly. Maybe truck bitch was alright.

“I only keep balefire eggs and sex toys in my kitchen cabinets, so go ahead,” Bajada replied before letting out her own yawn.

“Don’t tempt me like that,” I looked her in the face, smiling broadly. “Those are like, my favourite things.”

“Just get your fuckin’ coffee,” She said with a wave of her hoof. On the floor, Reflex began to stir.

“I heard the word coffee,” Reflex said in a zombie-like fashion, instantly starting to hold his head with his hooves. “I need it, I feel like one of those old ponies that try to party with ponies half their age.”

“You’re three years older than me,” I said to Reflex. “Don’t be dramatic, you’re just out of practice.”

“Not all of us have the Excalibur of livers Icepick,” Perm shot back, as he stirred beneath me.

“What he said,” Reflex said as he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to his hooves quickly. Not quickly enough for me to avoid seeing his crotch was sticky like Perm’s. I got to my hooves too and made my way to get the coffee that would rouse the room.

We had had our party in the front, and now with the sober realities of our own mortality, we had to fucking plan a mission for the history books…

“So, we need a ship,” I said to the assembled ponies. We were all on our second cup of joe.

“We have ships,” Reflex answered instantly. “But you’re looking for a specific ship, something fast, something we could sneak out of the harbor without attracting much attention-”

“Because if Crescent Moon can get in and out of this city without attracting attention, I’m sure that Tegarni has spies as well,” Permittivity finished for him.

“Exactly,” Reflex admitted with a grudging respect for Perm.

“So, we’re going for the subtle approach,” Bajada butted in. “I mean, subtle for you guys.”

“Yes, we should aim for an unopposed landing, Rangers aren’t marines, and we lack dedicated landing craft,” Ironsight said to us.

“I mean, if they expect anything, it would be an all guns blazing assault,” I said before grinning. “We use the threat of that as a feint attack.”

“By actually launching a feint attack?” Reflex asked with a glint in his eyes.

“Exactly,” I said to him. We both smiled as our minds got to work planning out the attack.

“I think this is a good avenue of exploration, but we need more intelligence on the island itself, it’s defences both sea facing, and land facing,” Permittivity spoke up and looked at each of us in turn, before looking at Bajada. “Do you have any green clothing, that I could borrow?”

“Sure, I have a desert scarf, is green and black okay?” She asked curiously.

“That should be fine,” Perm looked at the ground for a moment. “I”m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll obtain more information from my contact, that I’m certain of.”

“Alright,” Ironsight said as she watched Bajada search around her apartment for that specific article of clothing.

“That’s a signal right?” I asked him straight up.

“Yes, she’s been watching us, me in particular.” He said with some discomfort in his voice. I understood that well. He wished our time here was without interruptions from the outside world. The fact that an Arabian mare had been spying on us for weeks reminded him that we couldn’t just bury our heads in the sand and pretend we had normal lives.

“Who? Who is your contact?” Reflex asked him, a sudden seriousness in his voice.

“The mare that saved Copper Springs,” Permittivity said solemnly, before looking at me. “Well, one of the mares that saved Copper Springs.”

“I wouldn’t call what I did any kind of salvation,” I said quietly. Memories of that night came back to me. The smell was the worst, the smell of burning crude and incinerated fur. Bodies reduced to cooking piles, some of them running out of the burn zone begging to be killed. We obliged them.

“Icepick please, you did what you had to do,” Permittivity said suddenly, before trotting over to me. His hooves held me tightly, as I felt numbness fill my form. Remember why you did it. Remember that you’ll do it again if they hurt him. I clenched my foreleg feeling the muscles bunch up and tighten. You have to work with an Arab to stop the Arabs, don’t think about the thousand ways she could be betraying you. “It’s the Arabian mare that managed to prevent Tegarni’s execution order from being passed on.” I threw a hoof over Perm’s shoulder and pulled him closer to me. We were chest to chest, and I took the moment to nuzzle his neck softly, while breathing deeply and slowly, trying to forget the worst moments. He helped, he reminded me of the good times we had had. The normal moments where the worst thing that could happen was a piss ant robber, or a dinner table discussion gone nuclear.

“Hey, I found it,” Bajada re-entered the room with Ironsight in tow. Hanging around her neck was a checkered green and black bandana.

“They’re having a moment,” Ironsight half whispered to her.

“It’s actually pretty cute,” Bajada said with a chuckle.

“Alright, so you all should go about the rest of the day like merely had a debaucherous night, and a long period of recovery,” Permittivity said before I caught his left ear in my mouth and bit down on it lightly. “Icepick!” He mewled lightly, before stroking my back and pulling me the slightest bit closer.

“Perm, I love you,” I whispered into that same ear. “Be careful, okay?”

“I love you too, with all of my being. And I’ll try to be careful with all this subterfuge,” Perm said to me. He pushed back against me, and I let my forelegs slacken. Before he pulled away, he lit his horn and pushed me against him, his forelegs squeezing my withers. Then he kissed me full on the lips. I moaned gently at his assertiveness, before letting his tongue into my mouth. It felt wonderful as my stallion filled my mouth with his tongue. This stallion could defend himself- most of the time.

“So this is the Swift,” I said as I walked up the gangplank. Reflex looked at me and smiled broadly.

“Fastest ship in the fleet, it was made from a prewar yacht and given a new power plant,” Reflex said well, reflexively.

“Wow, I never knew the naval rebuilding program had moved that far ahead,” I had heard rumours of new ships other than our river gunboats being readied in the ports of Ramsgard, with only rangers to do the repairs.

“Yes, it was part of this five-year plan,” Reflex said wryly. “You did read the pamphlet that came with it last year, right?”

“Shut up Reflex, you know damn well I only read smutty romance novels and old adventure stories,” I said before punching him on the shoulder. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me.

“I also know you’re working on the former, somewhere back in your quarters,” His smile deepened and he chuckled as my face went a little red.

“I only told you that because I was drunk and I had just ridden you dry,” I said in a low voice. “You were also sworn to secrecy.”

“I haven’t told a soul,” Reflex said with a smile and a hoof on my withers. “I-I thought you were gone Icepick,” he said as he led me past the empty decks. This boat had a skeleton crew only right now because most of the crew were off on shore leave. He looked at the ground. “And then I come back and you’ve changed. What happened to the mare who was just looking for fun and excitement? Why him?”

“I’m sorry, I acted impulsively, but in the process, I met the stallion of my dreams, simple as that. He’s not perfect, in fact I know he has a lot of flaws that he tries to cover up. But, he’s a good stallion, and he’s mine. I’m his in return. I want to live a happy life, I want to keep these ponies here safe. What they’ve built here is closer to Equestria than anything we’ll ever make through five-year plans…”

“You always did detest our methods,” Reflex said with a sigh. “You always had such a sense of duty. Now though, you’ve seen what ponies with vastly different circumstances managed to achieve, and you’re comparing us to them. In your mind, we’ve already come up short.” He stomped on the hull beneath us.

“You’re angry that I like these ponies?” I said, my voice growing louder with every second. “Well, fuck you! They’ve built a more advanced economy, with happier ponies, without fucking serfdom.” I said as I leveled my gave at him.

“Well, when the Arabs come knocking on their front door again, guess who will be there to stop them?” Reflex said with a huff, his face was reddening.

“I’ll be there,” I said simply. “Now, let's get back to the task at hoof. We need to storm an island, and a little bit of suppressive fire isn’t going to cut it.” My voice was still tinged with anger at my friend. A friend that didn’t even realize his own hypocrisy.

“You’re right, let’s stay professional.” He took a deep breath and led me further on.

Minutes passed in relative silence as he showed me the ship’s features. Torpedo tubes, Turrets ripped straight off the Ursa Major assembly line, and machine guns galore. Nothing that would seriously disrupt a large, prepared defence…

“What are those?” I asked him as we walked through the small cargo hold of the ship. They looked like missiles for a launcher only longer and thicker, nearly the size of an artillery shell. I hadn’t ever seen them before.

“Well, we had to set sail before we could remove everything we were carrying beforehand. Those are rockets designed to be launched off of the back of trucks.” Reflex said without realizing the implications.
“What did they launch off of exactly?” I asked, my voice dripping with curiosity.

“Basically just railroad rails,” He answered. I began to grin.

“I have an idea,” I said with a laugh. “Hear me out…”

I had gone back to the bookshop, and I was getting nervous. I hadn’t heard anything from Perm today, and neither had anyone in our household…

It was only a few minutes later that I heard a furious knocking on the door, the door that had an obvious closed sign on it. I trotted over to it, ready to clobber whoever decided fucking with me was a good idea. My hooves moved so slowly as I opened the door. The sight on the other side was startling. Permittivity was smiling at me harshly, and on his leg and withers were a pair of dripping wounds. Beside him was a mare wrapped up in a hoodie, despite the weather. She looked fine.

“May we come in? I think I need to get these packed and wrapped,” he said as he began to push past me. I watched him shudder slightly as he limped in. The moment she made it past the door, he threw his horn on and slammed the door shut. For a moment his horn seemed to ripple with energy, electricity coursing over it. The smell of ozone and blood hit my nose as he started towards the stairs.

“Perm, what the fuck happened?” I asked as I started to follow, getting close to Perm, and letting him lean against me.

“Your uh, associates, the rangers discovered Crescent’s true nature,” he said with a sly smile. There was pain in his voice too, but he was hiding it well. “I dissuaded them from trying to hurt her.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Crescent said with an apologetic tone. “I was fine.”

“There were three of them, and one had a folding knife,” Perm replied as we made it to the front of the stairs.

“And you charged the one with the knife,” She said with a touch of annoyance slipping in. This was the side of Perm that I didn’t really want to encourage. The side that put him in danger. The heroic side.

“It worked, didn’t it? Ponies don’t expect to see a hornhead charging them head-on,” he smiled as he sat down at the dinner table. From the other room came Page and Dally, they saw Perm sitting there dripping blood and didn’t even bat an eye at the random Arab standing there beside him.

“What happened?” Page asked loudly, as Dally ran to get bandaged and alcohol for Perm.

“Oh, the usual, Rangers tried to accost dear Crescent Moon. I got in their way.” Around his neck was that green scarf Bajada had loaned him, it was wet with blood from the shoulder wound. “I must say, that unicorn with the knife had some strong control over that knife. Well, at least until they voided their bowels.”

“Did you kill someone?” Dally asked him. He shook his head and looked at me. I stroked his mane and held his hoof as the unicorns cleaned his wounds for him, he clenched up when the ethanol slipped in between the tears in his flesh.

“Pardon my speech but: I shocked the shit out of him.” Perm shivered a little as he recounted the memory. “I’m glad that I’ve learned to dial back the power well enough to prevent a heart from being stopped.”

“You’re a warrior, but a kind one,” Crescent said as she looked at him. There was remorse written across her features. Of course, he would go out of his way to save the pretty aristocrat.

“I didn’t want to cause a diplomatic incident,” He said softly. I glared at Crescent for a second, before holding his withers and kissing his cheek softly.

“That’s smart of you,” I said before looking at the rest of the ponies. “Seriously? A folding knife?” I sighed and let the wound dressers- dress the wound.

“Crescent Moon, meet Page Turner and Dalliance,” Perm said a moment later.

“Hello!” Dalliance said instantly, attention turning to the darkly coated mare.

“Salutations,” she said simply, before looking down at Perm. There was a spark in her at that moment. Her body tensed before she looked over at me.

“Your people did this to him,” she said sharply. “But I let myself be accosted by them, I was foolish.”

“I know,” I said neutrally. “He’s just like that, jumping into danger without thinking.”

“Oh please,” Page said as she finished packing the shoulder wound with gauze. “You’re both two peas in a fucking pod. You’re both heroic ponies.”

“It’s simple,” Perm said with a smile, “Crescent needed help, both because we need her help, because she helped save the ponies of Paradise, and because it was the right thing to do.” Perm paused and stood up, wounds now tightly bound. The green scarf hung limply below his neck. The specks of blood covering it were darkening as we spoke. He was a hero.

“Can we uh, talk alone,” I said to Dally and Page. They both nodded and left to go back to their bedroom. I hugged Perm tightly the moment the door shut. My face felt hot to the touch, and my eyes felt watery as I closed them tightly.

“I was worried you would lash out at her,” Perm said as held him close.

“No, you’re the one who’s gonna have to make things up to me,” I said with a laugh.

“So, from what Permittivity said before we were attacked, you found us a ship?” I smiled even more broadly at her words. We had a fuckin’ ship.

“Yeah, small, fast, and carrying a few surprises,” I replied before releasing him. He stood up, wincing a little as he moved his right foreleg.

“When do you think we should set off?” Crescent asked with a blush written across her face. Apparently, two ponies sharing a hug and a cheek kiss was risque.

“I’d give Bajada another day to gather some Rangers,” I replied.

“How many ponies do you intend on taking with us?” Crescent asked with an exasperated look on her muzzle.

“Uh, a dozen and a half Steel Rangers, not including me, and whatever desert rangers Bajada can scrape together,” I said with a grin, it was a small army. And it probably had enough firepower to crush whatever forces Tegarni had arrayed against us-

Author's Notes:

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