I was on fire.

No, not literally. This time, at least.

After Zip and I finally managed to say those three little words to each other, I felt like I’d been filled with energy. I could do anything. For the first time in a long time, I felt like there was a real spring in my step, and I just couldn’t stop smiling. Even as the date of the assault drew near, I was all smiles and full of energy. Gauge said it was creepy seeing me act like this and started wondering what I’d done with the real Ember. I smiled as I cuffed him behind the ears, too.

I’d taken a bit of that positivity with me into pyromancy practice, and for once, I felt like I was actually improving. Widening my stance and lowering my horn, I was able to send a modestly sized fireball downrange and blast a target about thirty yards away. Flakes of hot ash and fingers of smoke whirled into the air around the smoldering target, which slowly curled in on itself as my fire consumed it.

As I stood there, grinning like a little filly at my work, I heard hoofsteps approach from behind. “I told you so,” Warped Glass said to me, patting me on the back. “I knew you had the talent to become a pyromancer somewhere within you.”

“I guess I just needed a spark,” I said, watching the last of the target burn away.

“Every fire does,” Glass said. His magic touched a few buttons on a control panel a few feet away and more targets appeared. When I looked at him, he just pointed to them. “What? You think I’m going to be impressed with a one-hit wonder? Light them up, soldier!”

I didn’t hesitate. Though my casting speed still left something to be desired, I had a trio of fireballs downrange in a matter of seconds. Guided along by my thoughts, they struck their targets in rapid succession, and radiant orange light bathed me and Glass as the targets burned away.

I looked to Glass for some sign of approval, but his horn had already lit and more targets were appearing. “Again. Faster.”

I bit my lip and repeated the spell, trying to pour as much of my magic into each fireball as possible before letting them go. Once again, the targets erupted into flame, and I felt my hooves began to tingle.

More targets appeared. “Again.”

Once more.

“Faster.”

They burned.

“Again.”

I began to pant, but they went up in flames.

“Faster.”

I stumbled, but I pushed myself.

“Again.”

Three bright fires burned through the darkness clouding my vision.

“Faster.”

This time, when I tried to cast, summoning the last reserves of mana I had left in me, my numb legs buckled and I collapsed on my side. I panted and panted, sweat pouring down my face, my whole body shivering and trembling. “I… I… c-can’t…” I gasped between breaths of air. I shuddered as I felt something spasm and twitch inside my chest. Was that my heart?

Glass merely stood over me, studying my face as I struggled to breathe. “Have you ever drained yourself like that before?”

In between gasps, I weakly shook my head. “N-No sir.”

“Magic is what sets us apart from the other races,” Glass said, his horn lighting in a pale glow. “They have magic of their own, but it’s not tangible like ours. Magic is tied to what it means to be a unicorn, and a unicorn is defined by our magic. It is, in a sense, our very soul—in more ways than one.”

My breathing had finally stabilized, and my heart went back to its regular rhythm instead of weakly thrashing in my ribs. Glass nodded and offered me his hoof to stand, which I gratefully took. Standing made me a bit dizzy, but at least I didn’t fall over.

“When you use your magic for pyromancy, Ember, you have to be careful,” Glass said once I’d regained my balance. “Don’t push yourself more than you need to. This is why warlocks have guns and armor as well as our magic. If you burn through your mana too quickly, the next thing to go will be your life force. You are not a mage; you do not have lifelong practice and training like the mages of old Equestria, who fought solely with their spells. You are a warlock. Your strength lies in using your spells to add another layer of unpredictability to your combat. Given time, you’ll grow your mana pool with exercise, but for now, don’t burn yourself out.”

Feeling started to come back to my hooves, and I shuffled around on them to try and restore the rest of it. “So why make me do that instead of just telling me?”

“Because you need to understand what you’re feeling before you find yourself in a life or death situation,” Glass said. “It can be tempting to use magic to solve all your problems, but that’s dangerous without careful practice and experience. Don’t push yourself past a burnout, because the next spell might be your last.”

He looked at me like he was waiting for something more, so I hastily saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

That seemed to satisfy him. “Keep practicing and working on your casting time. That’s much more important than the size of a fireball. But for now, take it easy. Give your mana time to recover. You need to be fresh and ready when it’s time to take on the Crimson.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, bowing my head.

He patted me on the shoulder. “I heard that the mechanics were going to put the tank through its paces today. Why don’t you go take a break, see how that’s coming? It’ll probably help to be familiar with the armor support we’ll be bringing to the dam. Plus, I heard that your zebra friend volunteered to be one of the crew.”

Well that was certainly news to me. I wondered what he’d be doing in the tank. “That sounds good. I think I’ll do that.” Once again, I saluted him before moving toward the door. “Thank you, sir.”

“Take care, soldier.”

I apparently wasn’t the only one who wanted to see the tank in action. By the time I made it outside the Bastion, there was already a pretty large crowd gathered near the rocks, excitedly chattering among themselves. Sitting over a flat patch of land was the tank, its thrusters humming and the air beneath and around it rippling as it hovered in place. Ponies stood on top of the engine deck wearing gray suits, and I saw Gauge, Chaff, and SCaR among their number. It looked like they’d kept true to their promise to let Chaff ride on the tank, and the colt was loving every minute of it.

I spotted Zip and Sig in the crowd, not because Sig stood out like he usually does, but because Zip did. Sig had all of his brothers and sisters around him while Zip sat in the middle of that group, a bright orange splash of color in all the browns and grays and whites. Threading my way through everyone waiting for the test to start, I finally made it to Zip’s side. “Looks like I made it just in time.”

I sat down next to her, and she draped her wing across my shoulders. “Yup. They’re looking to get started in a few minutes.” Her wing tugged me closer against her side, and she kissed my cheek. “How was the pyromancy practice?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” I said, rubbing the base of my horn. “My head still hurts.”

Sig turned away from a conversation his siblings were having and angled his head. “Bad?”

“Not entirely. I actually started casting fireballs.” I grinned, and Zip rubbed her wing up and down on my back. “So that was fun. Then Glass nearly killed me.”

“You set something on fire that you weren’t supposed to?” Zip asked.

I shook my head. “No. He just made me keep casting faster and faster until I nearly killed myself. Actually, though.” At their concerned looks, I just shrugged. “Turns out if a unicorn pushes herself past complete exhaustion, past burnout, she’ll kill herself. Something about using up so much mana that you start casting away your life energy or something like that. He made sure I knew what that feeling was like the hard way so I’d be more careful with my magic in the future.”

“Sweet Celestia, Ember, are you alright?” Zip asked. “I’ve talked with some of our warlocks from time to time, but I didn’t know Glass did that to them too!”

“It’s really nothing,” I said, waving a hoof. “I started feeling like myself again after a few minutes. Nothing to worry about.” Which was true enough; I felt fine, if a bit tired and looking for a nap. But I figured I didn’t need to worry her about how my vision started blacking out, or how I lost all feeling in my legs, or how my heart almost stopped beating for a few seconds. That wouldn’t accomplish anything productive.

Though Zip didn’t say anything, I could just tell that she wasn’t buying it entirely. So of course the very next thing I did was vigorously kiss her to prove it. She at least let me savor it for a second or two before she gently but firmly pushed me away. “I might not be in my armor, but I’m still technically on duty, you know,” she said.

I rolled my eyes and mock-saluted her. “No offense, ma’am, but you did kiss me first.”

Her gaze hardened into a playful frown. “You looking for punishment, soldier?”

“Only if I get to choose where and when,” I sang back at her, sticking out my tongue.

Sig’s chuckling reminded us that we weren’t alone. “Easy, you two,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t want to set a terrible example for our recruits, right?”

“Why not?” I asked, smirking at him. “In my experience, fucking my superior officer has worked out pretty great for me.”

“In that case, carry on,” he said with a dismissive wave of his talon. “I, on the other hand, want to see the show.”

Both Zip and I turned our heads back to the tank, where we saw Gauge and three other ponies crawl into a hatch in the turret. After a few seconds of nothing, the tank shifted in place slightly, and the turret elevated itself out of the body of the tank. It just simply sat there for a moment, doing nothing, but then it began to move. Gliding along on oiled joints and greased bearings, the turret pointed its cannon at its first target, a large sheet of metal painted blue to stand out against the pink grass. Then it fired.

And holy fuck was it loud.

The tank wobbled slightly as the recoil of its gun pushed it backwards a few feet, as it didn’t have treads or any contact with the ground to anchor it in place. Downrange, an enormous cloud of dirt and dust flew into the air, showering the target with debris from the near miss. But we didn’t care, what with all the cheering and applause. We were just all excited that the damn thing actually worked. Optics could be calibrated easy enough; the thing had a computer in it that worked out the firing solution anyway, so it was just a matter of tuning its rangefinder. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that in minutes they’d have the tank shooting perfect bullseyes at all its targets, no matter how far downrange they were.

Zip’s wings fluttered with excitement as she clapped her hooves together. “Let’s see Carrion stop that!” she exclaimed. “A cannon that powerful will rip through anything!”

“Does it have shielding, too?” I asked. “Like the ringbird, or our armor?”

“Yeah, and stronger than a ringbird’s, too,” Sig said. “Its power plant provides a lot of energy to maintain its shields, and since it’s smaller than a ringbird, it can concentrate it better. The only downside is it can’t keep its shields up and fire at the same time; something about how they work would interfere with sending a shell downrange, so they momentarily lower when the tank fires. Some of your techies or whatever you call them figured that out when they had to restart the computer system”

“At least we figured out its weaknesses before we brought it to the dam,” Zip said. “We wouldn’t want our shiny new toy to get taken out by an anti-tank gun before we get the chance to really use it.”

“Does Carrion have those?” I asked. “Anti-tank guns?”

“We don’t know anything for certain, really,” Zip said. “We’ve had scouts on recon at the dam for a week now to try to gauge our best avenue of attack, but they can’t get too close without giving their positions away. But if the ringbirds are any indication, it seems like Carrion’s been getting supplies from the Ivory City for a while now. If Reclaimer has ringbirds, then he might have anti-tank guns and artillery.”

“I guess we’ll have to keep an eye out for those,” I mused, my eyes drifting back towards the tank, which thundered as it let loose another near-miss at the target downrange. If Gauge was going to be in that tank when we stormed the dam, then it was my job to make sure I killed any anti-tank guns I might find. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he died under my watch.

Zip shrugged. “I’m sure it’s something we’ll be discussing later today. Rampart thinks it’s time.”

I whipped my head toward her. “It’s time?”

She slowly nodded. “We’re approaching the end of Fusillade’s two-week window. I did some planning for our pegasi with Rampart, Fusillade, and Thunder yesterday and the day before. The hope is that we can strike not tomorrow, but the day after. We’ll be spending the rest of today and tomorrow going over the plan and getting everything into position.” Then, smiling at me, she added, “If everything goes well, you’ll be seeing your friends again in two days.”

The tank roared again, and this time the blue sheet of metal shattered into so many tiny pieces, much to the satisfaction of the crowd. But I wasn’t paying it any mind now. Two days. Just two more days, and I’d see Nova again. Two more days, and the Crimson would fall.

The rest of the display was entertaining, but I just couldn’t pay attention to it. My mind was stuck on what Zip said, repeating it over and over again. It didn’t seem real to be this close. For some reason, I never thought the day would come. I couldn’t picture myself at the dam, freeing Nova and Brass and putting a bullet in Carrion’s brain.

But here we were. Finally on the verge of the end.

And I knew tomorrow would be the longest day of my life.

It’d been some time since I was last in the Bastion’s war room, but it certainly wasn’t this cramped before. The whole place was standing room only as everypony gathered around the holographic table in the center. In front of the table stood Platinum Rampart, Fusillade, Zip, and Thunder Dash, each patiently waiting while the rest of us got ourselves organized around them.

“They brought everypony,” I whispered to Gauge. “There’s no place to sit.”

“I don’t even think they got everypony,” Gauge murmured back. “There’s maybe two hundred here. Didn’t you say that we had like four hundred?”

“About.” I looked around, noting the different factions I saw in the room. “Looks like they left most of the mercs out. Only their captains are here.”

“Probably because mercs fight for whoever pays them the most,” he said. “They don’t want anypony who thinks the Crimson might pay them more for our plans to listen to them.”

Sig overheard our quiet conversation with his fucking bird super hearing and stopped chatting with Dacie to lean toward us. “I figured it’d be best if we didn’t flood the war room with a few hundred griffons, too. Just a few siblings from each nest who’ll tell the rest what they need to do.”

“I can certainly appreciate the lack of bird noises,” I said. “It sounds like a fucking aviary downstairs when I’m trying to sleep at night.”

“That why I keep finding you curled up with Zip in her bed?”

“One of the reasons, certainly.”

Thankfully, I was spared from having to talk more about my love life (as great as it was) by the loud stomp of a horseshoe against steel. We all turned to Fusillade, who stood with one hoof raised above the edge of the table, and her usual dour look on her face. By her side, Rampart dipped his head appreciatively before addressing the rest of us. “I trust everyone who we asked to be here is here?” The nods and murmurs he got from the crowd were apparently enough, so he pressed a few buttons on the table. “Good. Let’s get started.”

The hologram on the table changed from its usual overview of the valley to an enormous dam at the very east end. “Celestia Dam. It’s served as Carrion’s base of operations since he slaughtered his way to the top of the bandit factions years ago and united them into the Crimson. A long time ago, the dam provided power to a huge number of installations in the valley and surrounding area, including the Bastion, but it hasn’t functioned in decades. I’ll spare you all the history lesson, but the dam’s position at the end of the valley meant it was a perfect spot for raiders and bandits to congregate and choke off the rest of the valley from the civilization that lies to the south of it. Removing the Crimson from it would not only free the rest of the valley from their hold, but it would connect us with the other settlements still on Auris. In short, we cannot fail. Too much depends on us.”

He pressed a few more buttons on the display, and the hologram changed to a close-up of the dam. On the western side, we could clearly see the winged horseshoe symbol built into the concrete—the symbol of the Equestrian Synarchy. On the east, an enormous reservoir of water formed a lake between the mountains, held back only by Equestrian engineering two centuries old. I morbidly wondered what would happen if the dam were to burst. That much water would be… problematic, to say the least.

“The Celestia Dam spans the width of the valley neck, from the Dragonsteeth Mountains in the north to the Shattered Hoof Range in the south,” Rampart said. “It is a little less than a mile long from end to end—certainly a daunting size. You can see that it is incredibly fortified. Watchtowers along the entire length of the dam keep the surrounding area under surveillance for miles, and the top of the dam is split into multiple checkpoints and fallback lines.” At each of those, he pointed to increasingly bigger sets of walls and defenses building up toward the center of the dam. “In the center lies the control tower, which our scouts say is the central hub of the Crimson’s activity. It’s likely we’ll find Carrion there, but this tower is protected by anti-aircraft artillery. We won’t be able to perform a surgical strike using our ringbird to take Carrion out and be done with it.”

The map shifted toward the north, where the mountains and hills leveled out enough into a mostly flat area, filled with trenches and other fortifications. Between that and the dam was a huge gate, with two large gun towers absolutely bristling with machine guns and small artillery pieces. Just the sight of that, even in a hologram, made me feel sick. It felt like the dam was almost as heavily fortified as the Bastion!

“This is going to be the first point of our assault,” the aging earth pony said. “The ringbird will approach this site from the north, using the cover of the mountains to keep out of sight and, more importantly, away from their triple-A. There is a rapid transit zone here, and we have the coordinates for it in our computers. The first strike team will be responsible for clearing and securing this zone, and defending it against any counterattacks. Once the RTZ is secured, we will be running teleportation trains non-stop to pour our soldiers in and begin the assault in earnest. Chief among them will be our tank and its crew,” he said, touching a few more buttons and causing a holographic tank to appear in the area. “The tank will disable the gun towers, smash through the gate, and lead the charge into the dam’s interior defenses.”

As he said that, the tank turned its turret and fired once at each of the towers, causing them to collapse, before blasting its way through the gate and advancing into the interior of the dam. “Ground forces will support the tank as it clears a path to the central compound,” Rampart continued. “The Crimson may have some anti-tank capability, so you must find and neutralize those threats if they appear. We cannot afford to lose the tank. But, in the event that we do, Acting Commander Zip will coordinate the backup plan.”

He nodded to Zip and stepped aside, and Zip shuffled in front of the table. “While the ground assault is underway, our fliers will be responsible for keeping the skies clean. Tonight and tomorrow, we’ll be moving most of our airborne elements to Hard Point Beta in preparation for the attack. We will be in close radio contact with the strike team to synchronize our attacks on the dam. Our job will be to keep the Crimson disoriented and confused while the strike team secures the RTZ, at which point our objective shifts to eliminating the triple-A so our ringbird can support us. We will also be responding to any changes in the battlefield, striking where and when we are needed. The more off-balance we can keep the Crimson, the better chance we have of succeeding.”

She stepped away to let Rampart retake the reins of the briefing. “Under the Acting-Commander’s orders, our forces on the ground should not have much to worry about in the sky. If Carrion shows his own ringbird, ours will attempt to lead it away from the dam, and if it lingers, will engage it to keep its attention away from our troops. We have been fortunate enough to find a pilot able to competently fly this machine, and I trust that she’ll be more than up to the task.”

Dacie shrunk back a bit under Rampart’s sudden attention, and I smiled to myself as I remembered being in that position not too long ago. Clearing her throat, Dacie raised her talons to her forehead in an uncomfortable salute. “Y-You can count on me, sir.”

Rampart nodded once and looked away, and Dacie gasped and lowered her hand. Sig patted her on the back and ran his beak through a few of her head feathers quickly while Rampart resumed his briefing. “But, merely storming the dam will not be enough,” he said, quickly putting in some command that caused a few structures on the dam to glow red. “These are the access points to the interior of the dam. This is where most of the Crimson will be. When the attack begins, they are likely to begin pouring out of these access points. If we are not careful, they will flood in behind us and cut off our retreat, or even worse, seize control of the RTZ. There are four such access points between the RTZ and the central tower. These will have to be secured as we advance, meaning that the closer we get to the tower, the thinner our forces will become. If we get to the central tower and find that Carrion is not there, then we will have to breach the lower levels and find him. But for now, only concern yourselves with securing these points and ensuring the assault proceeds as planned.”

Fusillade gave Rampart a quick look, and the stallion bowed and stepped back. The unicorn marched into his place and surveyed all of us with a stern look. “The logistics of the teams will be sorted out by the end of tomorrow, and each strike team will be briefed on their individual objectives. Once Carrion is located and his death is confirmed, we will regroup at the central tower and ensure that the rest of the Crimson knows. That should be enough to force their surrender. If not, then we will plan the best course of action for cleaning them from the dam once and for all.”

Then, stepping away from the center of the table, Fusillade swiped her hoof through the hologram, dispersing it. “Pour la chance, l’honneur, et la gloire. Do your part, and the Crimson will fall. That much I can promise you. If the stars are willing, then we will celebrate when this is all over.”

She looked over to Rampart and bowed her head. A small smile appeared on the stallion’s lips, and he gestured in her direction. “Commander Fusillade is right. If we all do our jobs, then in just two days, the valley will be free. Now go. Enjoy the time we have left before we buckle down and get to work. You’ve earned it.”

He waved his hoof, and the ponies (and griffons and zebra) in the room saluted and began to go their separate ways. The four commanders exchanged a few words for a moment then split, and I managed to catch Zip before she walked past me.

“Good briefing, Commander,” I said, falling in at her side and teasing her with her title.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I said like two things.”

“I can’t help it, I love to hear you talk,” I said, smirking at her. At her look, I groaned and shook my head. “Yeah, yeah, I know, on duty and shit. But that’s actually good, because I wanted to ask my superior something, not my marefriend.”

“And what would that be?” she asked. “You want to be the first one in?”

“No, not that,” I said. “Think you could pull a favor for me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Depends on the favor. What do you need?”

I’d never been to the Bastion’s brig before, or at least, not this part. I mean, when I first woke up here all those days ago, it was in a small room in the brig, but it’s not like that part was actually used to hold prisoners. It was more of an isolated place to keep newcomers until the Sentinels figured out what to do with them. This part, however, was definitely used to house prisoners. I could’ve figured that out from all the heavy doors with thick bars drawn across them, even without the faint sounds of ponies inside each one.

I followed Zip (and her shapely orange flanks) deeper into the brig. She wasn’t too thrilled with my request, but at least she decided to help. Plus, she had the authority of a commander, even if she was only a replacement for the time being, so she didn’t need to consult with Rampart or Fusillade. I wasn’t sure if Rampart would’ve helped me, and I’m pretty sure Fusillade would’ve thrown me in the brig myself for what I wanted to do. But hey, I had a promise to keep, and if we lost the battle at the dam, well, I wasn’t going to be able to keep it.

We rounded a corner and stopped in front of one of the doors, the number ‘66-1’ painted on it. “Here,” Zip said, tapping her hoof against the door and sliding back the slat to peer inside. “Not sure what you want with him, but he’s a Crimson soldier regardless. Be careful, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, frowning at her. “I already told you, he’s not interested in that anymore. He was just some kid that the Crimson foalnapped and then forced him to be a soldier, alright?”

Zip gave me a look like she thought I was an idiot, which probably isn’t far from the truth. “That doesn’t mean anything. Plenty of those foals go on to become some of the more violent bandits in Carrion’s fold. Some of them are his top generals.”

I threw my hooves into the air in frustration. “Yeah, and I already talked to him at the Fort. He’s fine, okay? You don’t have to worry about him.”

“Right.” Zip wrapped a hoof around a handle on the bar and slid it over, then took a keycard and unlocked the door. “I’ll be out here when shit hits the fan. Holler if you need me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Shrugging, Zip pulled open the door, and I realized that the thing was at least six inches thick. I don’t know what kind of prisoners Equestria would’ve been taking back in the day, but I don’t think they needed that much steel to keep them locked up. I guess that’s why the Sentinels were content to merely use bars and keycards to keep everything secure; who was ever going to get through something like that?

When the door opened wide enough, I slipped through the gap into a fairly small cell, even smaller than the one I woke up in once. There was a mattress lying on the floor, a bench welded to the wall, and a toilet bowl that rose a few inches out of the floor, all within reach of each other. Hardly enough room to pace properly, either. I realized that when I saw the stallion I came to visit trying to pace at the ‘far’ end of his cell, and all he was doing was basically spinning in circles.

The door slammed shut behind me, leaving me in here with the stallion. I guess Zip wasn’t in the mood for any parting jokes about getting shanked or whatever.

The pale yellow stallion started at the noise, and cautiously looked at me. When he recognized me, however, his ears perked a bit. “Oh, it’s… it’s you. Heh. Sorry, I… I didn’t know you were coming.” He took a step toward me but hesitated, unsure of what to do. He didn’t have any more war paint on his face—I guess that’d come off in the shower or something—so he actually looked like a normal young stallion, not the bandit I last spoke to at the Fort.

I saw he was nervous so I waved a hoof. “Don’t worry, Wheat, you’re fine. In fact, I come bearing good news.” Smiling at him, I sat down on the bench, and tapped the seat next to me. When he hesitated, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going to bite, come on. Stars, I would’ve thought a stallion like you would be jumping for the chance to sit next to a pretty mare like me after all this time alone.”

Something slammed (or more accurately, kicked) the door to Wheat’s cell from the outside. I smirked and slowly shook my head while Wheat just gave it a suspicious look. I guess Zip really was listening after all. “Don’t worry about her,” I said, patting the bench again and raising my voice so Zip could hear me. “I’ll make her feel better later.”

Finally, Wheat sat down next to me, though he kept a cool distance between us. I guess I didn’t really blame him; I was a Sentinel after all, one of the ponies keeping him prisoner. So I figured it’d be a good idea to try to break the ice a little before I told him what I really wanted to. “They treating you alright?”

He shrugged. “Three square meals a day, even if it is some awful paste, plus a clean mattress and showers every few days? Maybe I should’ve gotten myself captured sooner,” he said, an amused smile creeping onto his muzzle. That was good at least. “Those things were sort of hard to come by when I was with the Crimson. Well, the Fort did have showers, but we hardly used them simply because of how long it took to do the whole painting thing. It’d take me half an hour every day to put my paint on correctly if I washed it off all the time.”

“Yeah, I don’t get that, though,” I said. “What’s the point of it? Just to look big and bad and scary?”

“Part of it, yeah,” he said. “They always said it was to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies and stuff like that. But it was also a sort of personal thing too, you know? Everypony did theirs in a different way. It helped us stand out in a fight.”

I nodded, imagining all the different styles of face paint I’d seen in my clashes with the Crimson. Amusingly enough, it was almost like a protest against the Sentinels. We all had our sleek and shiny armor, our formal ranks, our standardized weapons. We all looked more or less the same. But the Crimson were a crew of individuals, a whole bunch of different ponies banding together with mutual interests. Now, granted, those mutual interests included murder, slavery, and rape, and for that, fuck them, but it was still a neat little contrast all the same.

He sighed and shook his head, slowly hunching over. “Still didn’t mean shit when you guys came for us. The average soldier only gets those small submachine guns—I think they’re called SM45s?” When I nodded, he shrugged. “Those things can’t do shit against your shields. We had a few rifles, but those belonged to the older guys. Even then, they don’t stand a chance against… how many machine guns do you have in your armor?”

“Six,” I told him. “With two hundred rounds in each. Plus laser lances, wingblades, and antimatter rocket pods—”

“Yeah, I get the picture. One of those rockets nearly destroyed me. Barely escaped the watchtower before they blasted it to pieces.” He gave me a skeptical look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Uhh… maybe?” I shrugged and held up my hooves. “Look, I’m not the one with rockets. Those are the earth ponies. I’m just a warlock. Or, well, I guess warlock in training. You know, raining fiery death on ponies and that sort of thing.”

“Because that’s so much better?” Wheat grunted and looked at me. “Whatever. Even if I never wanted to be in the Crimson, you guys still killed a bunch of my friends.”

I bit my lip. “I’m… sorry?” I said, honestly unsure of how to feel about that. I mean, on the one hoof, these were ponies that Wheat cared about, which automatically made me feel a little guilty. On the other, these ponies were probably awful ponies who killed and murdered their way through the valley, so the fewer of them, the better.

I had a feeling this conversation was slipping in the wrong direction, so I decided to just cut to the chase now. “Alright, let’s just forget about the Fort, okay? We’re both alive, so that’s all that really matters.” He looked at me for a moment before slowly nodding, and I let out a sigh of relief. This was going to work much better if he was actually going to cooperate with me. “So! Let’s, uh, let’s go back to the good news.”

“There was good news in this?” Wheat asked.

“Yeah, totally!” Smiling, I stood up and gestured to the door. “We’re letting you go!”

Wheat just blinked at me.

When he didn’t do anything, I shuffled in place. “No, like seriously. I’m not joking.”

“Really?” Wheat asked, slowly standing up. “Just like that? Why?”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not condition free, but I’m sure you won’t mind.” Taking a deep breath, I stepped closer to him. “Shit’s going to hit the fan in a few days. Either the Sentinels or the Crimson are going to die, and I don’t know which one. Even if the Sentinels win, I might die, and it’ll be hard for me to keep the promise I made to your mom if I’m dead. So, I got them to let you go free. We both know that you’re not going to go running back to the Crimson as soon as you’re free, right?”

“Fuck no,” Wheat said, baring his teeth for a moment. “I’m done with them. So what’s the catch?”

“You’re taking your brother back with you,” I said. Wheat flinched back, but didn’t say anything, and I furrowed my brow. “What, that bother you or something?”

“No, it’s just…” Wheat stopped, searching for the right words. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. Does he even remember me?”

Well, fuck. I’d hoped I would’ve been able to avoid answering that question, but I guess that wasn’t happening. “Not as far as I can tell. He certainly hasn’t mentioned you.” I saw his ears wilt, and I placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Hey, maybe you can bond on the trip back, right? And if worst comes to worst, you can just wait until you get home. Your mom will be happy to see you—both of you.”

Wheat still didn’t say anything, only hanging his head. “Look, I know it’s probably not the most fun thing in the world, but I’m trying to help your family out, okay? You get to go home, you bring Chaff home safe, your mom and your grandpa’s happy, everypony wins.” I tried to give him an encouraging smile. “What do you say?”

Those few seconds seemed to stretch on forever before he finally answered me. “Okay,” he said with a small nod. “Okay, sure. Why not. I’ll do it. Anything will beat sitting in here for who knows how long.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you so much,” I said, maybe catching him by surprise a little with that. “That means a lot.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t mention it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay, sure.” I grinned and felt a huge weight come off of my shoulders. “They’ll let you go tomorrow, give you supplies and shit for the trip back. I don’t think it’s far from here to Northlight, but I don’t really know. But I know you’ll be fine. I mean, Chaff followed me most of the way here without getting caught, so he’s got good luck at least.”

Wheat smiled faintly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure we’ll be fine. Thanks.”

I took a few steps toward the door and knocked on it. “Alright. You probably won’t see me again; I’m going to be busy tomorrow, so I won’t be able to see you off. I’ll try to be there, though. But… take care. And tell your family I said hi, and I’m doing well.”

He bowed his head. “Will do. Be safe out there.”

The door slid open, and I quietly slipped out and stood next to it while Zip closed and barred it again. Then we set off, back the way we came, back toward the mess hall, where we knew a nice dinner was waiting for us.

I managed to restrain myself until we got to the top of the stairs leading out of the brig. “Told you so.”

A cuff from Zip’s wing was my reward.

The whole Bastion was just filled with excitement. Tomorrow, we’d be moving ponies to the staging area at the Fort, and the day after that, we’d be storming the dam. Word got out that Rampart was planning on holding dinner in two days on the wall of the dam once we’d locked the whole thing down. Everybody planned on being there, and some of the Sentinels went digging through old scrap tech to see if they could find any working cameras. It was certainly going to be the night to remember.

And that’s all everypony talked about; what we were going to do once we took the dam. Nopony even considered the alternative, or at least didn’t say anything about it publically. It probably would’ve been almost the same as treason or something. We were going to win. That’s all there was to it.

Since this was going to be the last dinner we had together before we split up into our teams, and the last dinner I was going to have with Zip and Sig until after the assault, we’d all gone down to the mess to seize a table and feast on the rare good food that the cooks prepared. They had everything from vegetables and fresh fruit to pastas and even meat for the griffons and those of us ponies who felt like it. And even more astonishingly, somepony had produced a few surprisingly large kegs of moonshine from somewhere. I had the distinct feeling that brewing booze was against the law or whatever you call it in a military base, but the commanders seemed to overlook that just for tonight. Even Fusillade seemed to have removed the spiked club up her ass for the night, because I caught her actually smiling and drinking with a few of the older officers. It was like she was a completely different pony.

We talked and we laughed as we filled our stomachs with all sorts of good shit. I had some red lettuce, pink broccoli, and a mess of taproot on my plate, mixed with some pasta and a few stone hare legs, and a little bit of moonshine in a glass that I purposefully ignored. Zip, who I was leaning so hard against that there wasn’t a single inch of space between us from our shoulders to our flanks, had gone pretty pasta heavy, though she did mix a bunch of apple slices into it, as well as some sugarfruit that grew in the valley. Gauge and Chaff sported an equal mix of plants and meat, and Sig and his whole flock of siblings had plates just piled with juicy red meat. Sometimes I really wished pony anatomy was a little more compatible with meat; their meals looked delicious.

But, all in all, sharing jokes and eating with my friends and with my lover at my side, I finally felt like I’d found something. Something normal. For once, I wasn’t an outsider who’d managed to worm her way into a suit of armor because it’d help her free her friends. As I looked around and saw my friends and my marefriend listening to Gauge with smiles on their faces as he told some funny story about his life as a greaser back in Blackwash, I realized how normal everything felt. These weren’t soldiers ready to destroy the Crimson; these were ponies and griffons and zebras, loving life and living happy, normal lives. And for the first time, I could see myself doing this; I could see myself here far into the future. I’d found a family and a home in the Sentinels. They’d help Blackwash live on, and once we took care of the Crimson, maybe they’d give me the support I needed to go chase down the rest of the code.

That wasn’t something I’d really talked with anypony about, though. For now, everypony was concerned with the assault on the dam, but over the last few days my mind had started to wander to the future. There were pieces of the code out there, somewhere on Auris, and ponies were trying to get them. For what, I had no idea. Nopony did. All I knew was that the hunt for the code had led to the Crimson attacking us. Who knows how many more settlements like Blackwash might be caught in the crossfire of some global scavenger hunt that could change the course of Auris forever? How many more ponies might die over a stupid signal sent from outer space?

A nudge (or I guess it’d be more like a boop) from Zip’s nose against my cheek shook me out of my thoughts. I blinked and looked aside at her, at her beautiful crystal blue eyes watching me. “Something bothering you?” she asked, keeping her voice low and our conversation private while Gauge continued his story with increasingly excited leg waving.

“No, uh, nothing,” I said, quickly shaking my head. “Just… thinking.”

“Oh.” The single syllable sounded disappointed, and I knew she was reading right through me. “Well, what are you thinking about?”

“Right now, how pretty your eyes are,” I said, smiling at her, and making her smile in turn. “And how lucky I am to have a mare like you who loves a mare like me.”

“Tstch. Sweet talker,” Zip said, playfully shaking her head. Then she fluttered her eyes and leaned in, lips slightly parted, and I mirrored her without even hesitating. Yeah, this was the life. I could get used to this wing around my back and that orange against my black.

“Alright, that’s enough out of you two,” Sig teased, pointing his fork between the two of us as we abruptly broke off our kiss and blushed a bit. “You don’t need to be doing that at the dinner table. There are kids here.”

Chaff just frowned at him indignantly. “I’m not a kid! I’m six winters!”

Gauge made a face like he was seriously considering Chaff’s protests. “You know, he’s got a point there.” SCaR chirped twice and wobbled over Chaff’s head, the thrust it gave off tossing his mane everywhere. “See, even SCaR agrees.”

Gatre snorted and waved his hand. “I don’t know, that just sounds like a whole lot of squawking to me.”

Dacie grinned from across the table. “Gat’s got a point.”

“And we all know how loud he snores,” Hoana said, winking at her brother. “If anygriffon knows squawks and chirps, it’d be him. He practices in his sleep.”

Gatre tossed his silverware in his pile of meat. “Do not!” he exclaimed, holding out his hands.

“You really do,” another one of their brothers (I forget his name) said. A few more of his siblings nodded their agreement.

“Sorry, bro, you’re out of luck,” Sig said, smirking at Gatre. “Though I am curious how you even translate that thing,” he said, turning to Gauge.

Gauge just shrugged, because of course that’s what he did. “A lot of practice, a lot of experience. SCaR’s pretty emotive if you get to know him.” That got a whistle from the drone, which buzzed around his head in slow circles, stopping when Gauge began to pat it on the central frame, like you would a dog’s head.

I stuffed another bite of my dinner in my mouth and pointed at him with my fork. “SCaR just sends shit into his mind by antenna. Why do you think it’s always buzzing around his head?”

Everyone chuckled at that, even Gauge, who just shook his head. “He’s attracted to intelligence,” the zebra shot back. “Ember’s just jealous that SCaR never comes to her.”

Another chorus of chuckling broke out at my expense, and I just dismissively waved my hoof. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I said, hunching over while Zip rubbed her wing against my back.

When the laughter died down, Sig grabbed his moonshine and raised it in the air. “Well, everyone, I just want to say this. No matter how we got here, no matter how we all found ourselves in this mess, it ends soon.”

The rest of us immediately stopped our own conversations and watched him, raising our glasses like he did. “We have a big fight ahead of us, that’s true,” he continued. “It’s not going to be easy. Carrion isn’t going to just keel over and die no matter how much we wish that he would. But, if we stick together and do our jobs, we’ll be alright in the end.”

Then, raising his glass just a little bit higher, he cheered. “Next time, on the dam!”

“For the flock!” his siblings shouted.

“For the Sentinels!” Zip added.

“For Blackwash!” Gauge and I said, smiling at each other as we did so.

We crashed our aluminum cups together in a hearty toast over the middle of the table, spilling a little moonshine onto everything as we did so. Then we drank, or in my case, took a sip from the bitter brew before returning to our conversations and dinner. Laughter returned, and as the night wore on and booze replaced food, the whole mess began singing and dancing in one final night of carefree bliss before the coming storm. And even though I hardly drank anything, by the end of it, I was drunk off of the sheer joy alone.

And in two nights, we’d be doing it all again. The only difference would be us celebrating the end, not the beginning. We’d be celebrating with Nova and Brass and the rest of Blackwash.

It was a night I couldn’t wait for.

Of course, with great drinking, comes great responsibility. Not for the one doing the drinking, though. That’s saved for her friends.

I figured that out when I found myself sitting outside the bathroom, listening to the poor mare retching inside. This had been going on for the better part of half an hour, and I’d grown tired of counting all the steel panels in the floor (all six hundred and eighty-four) of the hallway. At least after I heard the toilet flush this time, the poor orange mare stumbled out of the bathroom and into my shoulder, a little bit of puke still hanging off of her chin. I wiped it away with my magic and managed to get her wing around my neck, and I basically began to drag her down the hall to her room.

“…s’rry,” Zip slurred, her clumsy hooves barely managing to keep her upright as we walked.

I nuzzled her cheek. “It’s okay,” I said, pausing to adjust her weight across my back and side. “I’m taking care of you.”

We stumbled along for a bit more before Zip began to shake her head from side to side in increasingly exaggerated motions. “Too much t’drink.”

“Thank you, Acting-Commander Obvious.”

Poor Zip never stood a chance once the drinking began in earnest. She was already a pretty small mare, and she was trying to keep up with Sigur and his flock, all of whom were much bigger than her. Gauge and Chaff and I watched it all from the sidelines, each of us sipping our own drinks (and me giving the rest of mine to Gauge when I couldn’t take the taste of alcohol anymore without feeling like I was going to puke). I eventually had to take Zip away from the mess when it was clear she was finished, after she had fallen off of her seat, tried to stand up again, and had fallen over a second time. We didn’t leave a moment too soon, either; almost as soon as I’d escorted her from the mess hall, she immediately staggered over to the bathroom and began puking her brains out in the toilet.

The stairs took a long time to navigate, mostly because Zip insisted on taking them herself and wouldn’t let me just drape her over my back and carry her up myself. I gently humored her, though I all but lifted her up each step with my magic, which she was too drunk to realize I had enveloped around her entire torso. But, finally, and after many failed attempts at drunken babbling from my marefriend, I got her back to her quarters and tucked her into bed.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead and stroked her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow before you go, okay?” I told her, making a mental note to make sure she was awake and not too hungover before her deployment time. “You just get some rest.”

I stepped back to leave her be, but she stretched her hooves toward me like a foal reaching for its mother. “Noooooo…” she moaned, waving her forelegs and nearly falling out of the bed. “Staaaayyyy….”

Biting my lip, I ultimately shook my head at her and moved back toward the bed. “Move over,” I said, gently sliding her to the other half of her bed and climbing in next to her. Funny how almost a week ago our roles were reversed, with Zip being the one to get a hardly-coherent me into her bed for rest. This time, I was the one holding Zip to my chest and rubbing her back while she curled up in my embrace.

We stayed like that for a long time, Zip’s head pressed against my neck, and her torso tightly held between my four legs. I almost thought she was asleep, she was so quiet, at least until she whimpered and pulled herself closer to me. “Please don’t die…”

My ears perked at her whisper; it was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. “Hmm?”

“Please don’t die,” she repeated in the same whisper. “I love you. I love you so much. Please don’t die.” She looked up at me, and I could see tears in her eyes. “I order you to not die!”

I had a feeling that was a little more than the alcohol talking. “Zip, what’s wrong?” I asked her, pressing my nose to hers. “Why are you upset?”

She started shaking like a leaf, and I held her as close as I could to try to stop it. “I’m afraid,” she said, blinking away tears. “Afraid that… that you’ll die. They’ll take you from me. D-Don’t want to be alone…”

“Hey… hey…” I said, gently wiping away her tears. “It’s okay. I won’t be going anywhere, alright?” Even through the drunken glaze in her eyes, I could see the fear inside. Suddenly, a lot of things started to make sense. I started to wonder just how much of her personal fears and worries she kept bottled up underneath her cocky and almost dangerously carefree attitude, behind her mask of professionalism and discipline. It was strange to see the mare I loved, the mare I idolized, break apart once alcohol lowered her guard.

I kissed her, because it was the only thing I could think of doing to get her to calm down. I’m really not that great with words. It took her a second to respond, but when she did, I kissed her again, this time with more passion. My tongue darted around her mouth, fleeing and poking at her sluggish counterpart. She made some sort of indignant moan before chasing mine back into my mouth, and she began to move with a little more lively energy now that I’d turned her on. Some part of me worried for the moment whether I was taking advantage of her addled state, so I resolved not to push her past what she wanted tonight. I’d let her do the leading and simply follow along, holding her hoof as she drunkenly stumbled ahead.

She rolled me onto my back and positioned herself on my chest with a little help so she could continue her assault. I opened my jaw to her tongue, letting her invade as much as she wanted while my hooves massaged her shoulders around the base of her wings. Her tail, whether intentionally or not, flicked against my crotch, and my legs quivered as she woke it up. I moaned and counterattacked, pinning her to my chest with my hooves while I kissed her over and over again. She giggled and tried to fight it off, but given that I was bigger than her and she was drunk, there wasn’t much she could do.

I let her escape after a few more kisses to her cheeks and muzzle, and she responded by sliding down my chest and burying her muzzle in my belly. I wondered what she was doing for a split second until she suddenly blew a raspberry into my belly button. I laughed and kicked into the air, completely taken by surprise by just how… how silly it was. Zip’s eyes shone in the darkness as she looked up at me, and then she did it again. My laughter and protests of ‘stop!’ turned into moans of pleasure when she shifted her attention lower and began to tease my tits with her teeth. And then, once she felt like she had full control over me, she went even lower.

Let me tell you, even when drunk out of her mind, Zip still knew how to fuck. It might have been the best fucking I’ve ever gotten.

Her tongue left me unable to move, and her hooves on my tits completely paralyzed my lower body. I could only moan and push against the blankets with my forelegs while she worked her way deeper, carving her way through my cunt with her tongue. The pressure and heat built up between my legs until, like a balloon, it burst all at once. I felt the walls of my pussy clench and every muscle in my body flex as I orgasmed, and the stench of sex bathed my nose with its pungent smell. My hooves went numb and the world flashed across my blind eyes until finally, finally, the wave began to recede, and I slowly recovered my senses and mind an inch at a time.

Zip drunkenly crawled up from between my legs and went back to resting on my chest, the side of her head pressed against my body. “Your heart is pretty…” she cooed, hooves running up and down my sides.

“Your face is pretty,” I teased her, and when she looked up at me, I stuck my tongue out. She frowned at me, then finished crawling up my body to plant her muzzle against mine. It was a little weird tasting my own cunt, but I enjoyed the kiss all the same. She eventually broke it off, and then just looked at me with a sparkle in her eyes. It wasn’t hard to guess what she wanted.

So I flipped her onto her back, taking care not to make her dizzy (because I had no idea if she was really done puking for the night), and went to work. I knew what she liked from doing this a few times already, so I worked my way down from her mouth in a trail of kisses, stopping momentarily at her tits to get her ready. By the time I actually made it to her crotch, her cunt was already wet and glistening, and she’d managed to tangle her forelegs in my enormous mane. A tug on it was enough for her to pull my face into her pussy, and I got to work with tongue and hooves until she eventually came.

I held her in my forelegs while I waited for her to come down again, gently stroking her short mane and tracing a few of the scars on her body. When she opened her eyes, I kissed her, and we split again to put our heads together. “I love you,” I whispered to her.

“Love you too,” she said. She traced the side of my jaw with one of her wings, even if she almost drunkenly jammed a few of her out of place feathers into my eye. Quickly pecking her on the nose, I slowly removed my hooves from underneath her body and rolled her onto her stomach to get me a better angle of attack on her wings. “What’re you dooinnnggg…?” she whined as I stretched one out and positioned the crest near my mouth.

“Preening you,” I said, looking at the disheveled feathers everywhere. “You really need it.”

It was a little weird putting her feathers into my mouth and sliding them along. They made this zipping noise as I ran the vane between my teeth, hooking the edges of the feathers together. They were also covered in this chalky dust that I accidentally got on my tongue. I think it had something to do with keeping them waterproof. I knew from Nova’s whining back in Blackwash during the spring seasons that she couldn’t fly if she spent too much time in the rain. But, when the tip of the feather slid out from between my teeth, the thing was straight and whole—a far cry from the rest of the feathers on each of her wings.

Zip would fidget a bit as I worked my way through first one wing and then the next, but by the time I finally finished with the other one, she was struggling to stay awake. Lying down next to her, I pulled her back into my forelegs and kissed her forehead. “We should get to sleep.”

“Mmmyeah…” she murmured, shifting slightly to get in a more comfortable position. “S’good.”

“I love you,” I said again, closing my eyes and resting my head on the pillow.

“Forever,” Zip mumbled. “Forever and always…”

Then she was out, leaving me clinging on for a few more minutes. “Yeah,” I whispered to myself. “Forever and always.”