The train left Neigh Orleans that next morning, leaving the sweltering heat, the sleaziness and the fresh whiskey on the hour far behind as it rolled on down the lines. The train belched smoke high into the sky, casting dark clouds on an otherwise clear fall day. Pistons churned, and wheels spun as the massive child of industry huffed and chuffed out of the swamps surrounding Neigh Orleans.

Inside the passenger cars, the mood was tense. The troops of Henri’s little company, they’d had their little party night in Neigh Orleans, but now it was back to business. Back to the matter at hand, namely clearing out the Grand Pegasus Enclave from Mount Pleasant Island.

Midnight was constantly fiddling with his shotgun, cleaning and inspecting it more times than needed. He was now clad in the standard NCR jumpsuit like Henri and Iron were.

Riptalon was sharpening his knife, even though it was hardly what one would call blunt in any manner of speaking.

Nearby, the two looked to see a certain earth pony mare and what she was up to. Target, she’d grabbed a spare combat knife and duct-taped it to the barrel of her rifle, now making it partially a bayonet if she ever found any need to get in close. Target, however, hopefully, wouldn’t need to do that and would just stay far out of the line of fire and pop some heads before anybody saw the bullets coming. Speaking of bullets, one was currently in her mouth like a sort of cigar.

In his seat, Iron was etching something onto his gun, but what it was exactly, nobody could tell. Eventually, he stopped and set it aside for the moment.

A certain griffon flashed back to the moment she’d learned exactly what she and her troops were stepping headlong into.

“So, it’s true then?” Henri asked, looking directly at Calamity. Her seemingly constantly angry orange eyes bored into his calm nougat ones. “The Enclave is indeed in control of Mount Pleasant Island? I swear, your contact flying near that island better not be lying or exaggerating, cause otherwise, you’re getting a good black eye to go with that brand of yours, got it?”

“Cross mah heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in mah eye…” Calamity replied, saying the sacred Promise Littlepip had told him about after she’d learned of it in one of those Memory Orbs. “Ya probably don’t know what it means, but it’s a promise that ya never break. Not even in the slightest. Besides, would ya really think Blackjack would lie about somethin’ like this? Somethin’ this big?”

Henri looked taken aback, she hadn’t been expecting that. She knew Blackjack was constantly taking jobs, none of which involved bloodshed. (And to be honest, after her experience with Lighthooves, Henri couldn’t blame her.) Often at times, they were just bringing medicine to the wounded, teleporting to the frontlines with an Alicorn and medical supplies in tow. Whether that alicorn stayed to help turn the tides of the battles was their choice. Blackjack, although she didn’t like it, knew she couldn’t force the alicorns from not fighting. They were a part of this war for freedom now.

Nobody was quite sure when they’d made their choice to fight. Some say it was ever since the Goddess died, and that was probably true. Others speculated that it became their war when a certain group of Nightmare Moon Cultists popped up and started abducting away children of theirs into the night. The children, they were part of the race’s survival. Every alicorn child born was a precious commodity to them. To lose one, that was a surefire way of igniting their rage.

Henri honestly pitied those who were on the wrong side of an alicorn’s glowing horn.

“Wait, so Blackjack… On top of providing medicine to the boys on the frontlines, she’s been doing recon missions?” Henri asked in shock, eyes blinking as she tried to process what she’d heard. Calamity only nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, that she has. While back, y'all in the up in the main forces of the NCR mite have heard about a group of Rangers bringin’ down a platoon of Vertibucks thanks to Ms. DJ Pon3. Bless his heart, givin’ us the news like he does. Or her, Ah’m not sexist. Anyways… Well, most of ‘em were destroyed, but…”

“One survived…” Henri trailed off in understanding. “And Blackjack’s been flying it back and forth around Equestria keeping an eye on the Enclave’s activities…”

“Yeah, lately she’s been around Mount Pleasant Island. Even with all the fog around that Celestia-forsaken place, she’s been seeing Vertibucks along with those new-fangled Dust Devils flying to the island,” Calamity replied. “Stick out like a stumpy wing they do, with them red and black paint jobs.”

Henri shuddered a bit. Dust Devils, a stepping stone if you will in-between Vertibucks and the Raptor Class of Cloudships. Named after their creator in a possible fit of Enclave narcissism, seeing just one of those things was enough to run shivers up a whole platoon’s spines. Mainly used for rapid aerial insertion or extraction of small squads of troops, those metal monstrosities were a cross between gunship and dropship. Rounded and streamlined, they were perfectly capable of cutting through the air. Two nose-mounted autocannons were the most common weapon seen on them, although other variants were suspected to exist -At least from things like the aftermath of battles, and crude radio transmissions- like ones with rocket launchers and the like.

“Gawd’s nether regions…” Henri muttered, not caring about the possible blasphemy of the statement she’d just uttered. “What the Hell are they doing over there?”

“...Beats the tar out of me,” Calamity replied. “But Blackjack, before she decided it wasn’t worth the risk stickin’ around there any longer than needed, reported that they were carryin’ big pieces of metal to the island. Sounds to me like they’re building somethin’ out there,”

“Can’t decide if that’s the first piece of good news I’ve had in awhile, or the worst…” Henri muttered.

“If you want mah honest opinion? It’s probably both.” Calamity replied simply.

Henri now paced back and forth with a combat knife in her claws, fiddling with it out of worry. She knew everyone was worried and viewed it as a failure on her part. She was supposed to keep the troops from falling to pieces, keep them in line. That was her job as a commander.

As she watched the sun set over the horizon, and day turn to night she sighed. “Keep it together Henri, they’ve got every right to be scared. Midnight, Target, Iron… Hell, even Riptalon, damn him. This is the Enclave, everybody’s worst nightmare. It was bad enough with Winter Breeze and dealing with her forces, but now a splinter faction? Dear Gawd, if I make it out of this one alive, I swear I’m retiring early,” Henri thought to herself as she paced back and forth, train wheels trundling under her feet. “...Least you know what this group wants though, unlike with Winter Breeze’s, whose intentions I’m still not sure on. Sure, she’s part of a group that calls themselves the Enclave, but she actually showed sorrow for the death of Puppysmiles. Aren’t the Enclave supposed to be all about cleansing the impure? If so, why would their President show sorrow for the death of one Pink Cloud comprised filly? Something stinks here, and honestly… I don’t like it.”

She sighed again. Celestia and Luna above, she just wished for the days when it was just simply pointing and shooting at a target not caring about who they were. Kill this guy, kill that guy, and get paid. That was how it was, even before she joined up with the NCR. Now, things were... complicated.

Meanwhile, as the night drew on, Midnight walked over to Riptalon.

“Surprised you haven’t taken the chance to knife us all in the back like a ninja and jump off this train to fly away into the night like some coward…” the Earth Pony commented. Riptalon chuckled.

“Trust me, if I’d wanted to do that… I’d have done it long before,” Riptalon remarked before he shook his head. “Gawd! Going into battle against the Enclave on Mount Pleasant Island… How many ways can you say are we completely screwed?”

“Watashitachi wa kanzen ni dainashidesu.” Midnight answered in Neighponese, and what Riptalon would later regard as the understatement of the century. Midnight honestly didn’t know if Riptalon actually understood Neighponese or he just got the general gist of it. Somehow, he wouldn’t have been shocked if the griffon, given his status as a wanderer, did know the language or at least a little of it.

“...Suppose I asked for that one, didn’t I?” Riptalon laughed wryly before muttering an old poem under his breath: “Theirs not to make reply, theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death rode the six hundred.”

Sighing, Midnight walked over to Iron, who was cleaning off the Lyra Heartstrings doll he’d acquired and brushing its mane. Midnight laughed a little.

“I’d heard from Target you had one of those things, but I thought she was pulling my leg, to be honest. So, what’s the story behind that anyways?”

“You really want to know?” Iron asked before replaying the recording he’d found back in Old Appleloosa.

“Alright, chances are this will probably be my last transmission, what with those Balefire Megaspells going off all around Equestria right and left and those blasted stripers closing in. Either way you slice it, I’m a dead duck. Hopefully after this last log of mine I’m making, I’ll take a few of those murderers with me. Bit of a shame really, if this is my last stand. Here I was, thinking I was going to become famous and all that. Maybe even make captain one day.

“Shows what I know, eh? Every little foal’s dream to become a flank-kicking member of the Equestrian Royal Guard. Did that, so at least I’ll go out happy. Defending Equestria to the end. Regrets… Eh, not many really. Maybe not taking out the entire race of zebras with a megaspell, possibly. That… and never getting lucky with a mare. My Lyra doll may have had something to do with that. So what? Sue me. I don’t give a damn anyhow. We’re all allowed like what we want.

“Anyways… Hear them knocking at the storeroom door. Just want to let anypony know, anypony that finds this that I did my duty and served with honor. Give my regards to my brother, Steel Sword, would ya? Make sure he knows that I love him. This is Iron Helm, signing off for the last time.”

“That’s… surprisingly noble of you. If not a bit foolish, given that you’ll probably have no luck finding any relations of Steel. Anyways...” Midnight remarked, eyes widened slightly. “And here I thought you were just some cold, gun-toting buck who was in a relationship with Riptalon,”

“Seriously, why does everybody think me and that twat are having sex like a couple of bunnies?” Iron questioned.

His eyes trailed to Midnight’s flank for a brief moment, though not because he was eying him in a sexual manner. He’d always been curious as to what that butt-tattoo of his, black tomoed rings inside a red circle meant. He knew these marks always signified something, didn’t know how he knew that. He just did. It was like something in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite place. Target’s had been easy enough to figure out, considering it was just a simple target and she was an expert sniper if the tales were true. Though he’d probably never get an answer out of Midnight, considering he was friends with Riptalon, and by association that meant Midnight hated him as well.

Outside the window, fog began to roll in as the train crossed the long bridge over the sea that led to Mount Pleasant Island. It was the heavy sort, and at times it was almost like it was intent strangling the air around it. It was a thick, choking fog. Heavy as soup. It made far too good of an opportunity for an ambush.

“...Dunno, he just seems like your type,” Midnight shrugged before his ears perked up. “Hold it, what’s that…?”

Iron’s ears perked up as well, he heard it too. A distinct mechanical whirring waspish sound, as shadows darted through the mist like giant mechanical insects. Iron’s eyes widened in alarm, he didn’t quite know how… But somehow, he knew that sound from somewhere.

A shiver went down his spine as the call went up and down the train cars. “Vertibucks! They’re all around us!”

“Defensive positions!” Henri barked out. “Aim for the pilots, aim for the gunners if you see them! Headshots are the name of the game here! Let’s see how bulletproof those windows of theirs are…”

Iron, as he saw one of the Vertibucks looming out of the fog. He went into S.A.T.S mode and the pilot inside the Vertibuck lit up green all over. He scrambled to a seat and laid down in a sniping position. His hoof went for the trigger, but just as he was about to fire off a shot, there was the sound of a rocket firing, then the distinctive Whoomp! of an explosion coming from somewhere ahead of him. A talon reached out and grabbed the pegasus by the scruff of his neck before he saw a fireball racing towards him and his whole world went up in flame…

“Swear you’re going to get yourself killed one of these days doing that,” a male voice commented, similar in accent to his own. Another tavern, another day. “I mean seriously, how many glasses have you drunk? Like you’re suffering from a bad break-up or something… Healthier ways to get over such a thing. Eat a bucket of ice-cream or two. Celestia knows you need to pack on the calories, looking awfully thin,” the voice commented kindly and the observer turned to face the speaker. It was a white pegasus, well mostly white. There were some splotches of cyan in his wings. Very large wings at that, a little too large for his body maybe.

If the observer had to make a comparison, he would have thought the pegasus to be similar to a cloudy sky, with small pockets of blue peeking through here and there. On his flank rested a gust of wind.

“Buttercream, not your place to chastise me on my drinking habits,” the observer replied in a gruff tone of voice. “Believe me, if you want to scold me like a little foal, do it when I’m actually doing something wrong. Like murdering somepony in cold blood. Then you can get on your high horse and chastise me like the pretentious, self-righteous arsehole you are,”

“Just sayin’, if you want to make your place in heaven with Celestia, quit now while you still can,” Buttercream remarked. “I love you mate, honestly I do, but just don’t want to see you dying a foolish death no thanks to your own stupidity,”

“With all due respect, go and bugger off eh?” the observer commented, flipping him a rude gesture with a wing. “Honestly, I don’t regret my life choices. The drinking, gambling, none of that. Unlike you, I’m not so blessed as to be given a good cloud crop and gotten rich off it. I have to earn my keep,” he remarked. “And another thing… For Celestia’s sake, will you stop listening to that preaching that evangelist Stormy Skies is spouting off eh? He’s a nutter, plain and simple. Celestia’s no god. ...If she was, we wouldn’t be sitting here above the clouds and the Wastes below wouldn’t have turned into a living nightmare,”

“Earn your keep?” Another mare asked, this one in various shades of light blue with a snowflake resting on her flank. She chuckled. “Gambling away what little life spendings you do have, that’s a funny way of earning your keep...”

“Great, so you’re ganging up on me with this arse, Madam Breeze? For Celestia’s sake…”

“No, not ganging up. I’m just trying to look out for my fellow pegasi. Ask yourself, what would your family think if they found you dead in some alleyway, stabbed by a bookie or your liver finally giving out? They’ve got a reputation, a nice one, and I just don’t want to see it ruined by your own follies,” Winter Breeze told him, in that horrendously kind voice of hers. “We’re all family here, that’s all we’ve got up here. Just… us,”

“You yourself sound like you’re preaching something Winter, Altruism I think it’s called. Well, here’s something for your sermons. For every choice, there is an echo. With each act, we change the world,” the observer remarked. “Yes, I know that sounds like a quote I probably stole from somewhere, but I’m just speaking my mind here. Just doing this out of my kind heart, or maybe I’m as stupid as Buttercream thinks I am, but we as a species do need to change. We’re too closed off. Can’t survive up here forever. Open up your eyes madam, see my standing. That birth control crap that was created? How many ponies do you think actually listen to it? Ponies are horny little bastards, you know that. Doubt they can keep their libido under control for long,” he continued in his drunken tangent. “Sooner or later, somepony, somewhere up here, they might just… slip up. Don’t count on anybody else, that’s my motto. Least… Don’t count on them obeying rules and laws that were set down. Ponies don’t like to be constrained, least of all us pegasi. We once flew free, and now here we are. Trapped like rats in a cage. Gotta fly free, if you will, in some other way…”

The observer got up from his seat and reached for his Novasurge rifle. “Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got better things to do then quibble about with you lot. I’ve got firing squads to teach. Some damn idiots still haven’t worked out how to use a Novasurge rifle properly...”

With that, he walked off, but not before hearing Winter Breeze and Buttercream mutter amongst themselves.

“Teaching a firing squad while completely plastered…? How the Hell is that supposed to work out?” Buttercream wondered aloud.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Nimbus, it’s that he’s stubborn. He’ll figure something out. ...Unless he ends up shooting his entire class out of frustration,” Winter Breeze remarked with a sigh before walking off. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got things to do. Classes to teach. Celestia knows the questions that are going to be asked as to why I’m late, especially when I turn up smelling like a drunkard…”

“Hey, if he does end up shooting his entire class, least they’ll know how a Novasurge rifle works.” Buttercream muttered darkly.

“Come on! Don’t you die on me now, ya morons!” a female voice shouted, on the shores of Mount Pleasant. Somewhere in the mist, Target could hear the sounds of the Vertibucks, and see their shadows. Trouble was, she couldn’t just move from her location. Nor could she shoot one out of the sky.

Firstly, there lay both Iron and Riptalon, completely unconscious. So, heading inland, which would normally be the wisest choice, was not an option. And secondly, if she fired off even one single shot, there went their location. Right now, her only hope of survival was just praying that the Vertibucks didn’t think of looking towards the shoreline. Plus, that their pilots thought that the explosion of the train and taking out the bridge had killed them all in their surprise ambush.

“Target, stop looking through your scopes and get over here and help me!” Henri barked, and Target leaped down from her position atop a rock and tossed her rifle aside.

“I… I don’t know what to do, I was never trained in field medicine!” Target stammered out, starting to hyperventilate. “Certainly not CPR!”

Henri stared at her. “How the Hell do you not know CPR? It’s part of basic training for all NCR soldiers!” She snapped.

After taking a few calming breaths, Target answered. “Thought the damn thing was useless, considering if you landed in water, it was probably irradiated anyways!”

Henri swore under her breath, and turned to Midnight. “Stopwatch, now. Keep time,” she ordered and Midnight pulled out his stopwatch before Henri turned back to Target. “Okay, what we want is thirty chest compressions, four per second. Tilt head back, and two breathes.”

“Okay, got it!” Target nodded, and Henri continued to shout out orders.

“Elbows locked, full body weight on them, press hard down on breastbones,” Henri stated as she tried to get Iron’s heart started again. Target, nervous as she was, followed Henri’s maneuvers on Riptalon. What they were trying to do wasn’t forcing the water out of the lungs, it was to create pressure in the heart so that the blood would start moving in their body once again. The mouth to mouth, it would get air back into the lungs and filter into the blood. ...At least, that was the theory anyways.

Midnight eventually tossed away the stopwatch, remembering how tiring CPR was and started doing the breaths himself to Iron. Riptalon would just have to wait his turn.

“Come on, damn you… Don’t die on me now! As much of an asshole as you are, we need you!” Henri snarled out, before giving two more short breaths into Iron’s mouth. Midnight was forced to rotate back and forth between Riptalon and Iron, going to one, and then to the other.

“Oh… They’re getting closer…” Target muttered in a low tone, as her eyes briefly trailed to the sky. She hoisted Riptalon up onto her back with a groan. Griffon really needed to lay off on the snacks. Henri did the same with Iron.

“Move, now!” Henri said quickly, and the three made a dash for it up a nearby road, illuminated by small blue tinted lights. “We’ll come back for the guns later!”

“No!” Midnight shouted. “Someone’s got to keep watch, make sure those bastards don’t find us. ...Or, at least all of us,” he whispered, picking up Target’s rifle and placing a clip of ammo into it. Four bullets, not a lot but it’d have to do. All of this lunacy, of course, relied on the fact that Target’s sniper rifle hadn’t been completely ruined by its little trip into the seawater. And Celestia only knew what Target’s weapon had been modified to withstand. Upon closer inspection, Midnight saw the casing of the rifle read “End of the Line”.

He chuckled, fitting really. Looked like it was the end of the line for him. But he’d make sure he was going to go out with a bang. Hopefully several.

“Oh, damn you… Why’d you have to be so stubborn…?” Henri muttered before giving him a salute and saying: “Be safe.”

Then, through the mist and through the dilapidated forests and up the path they went. At some point in time, they passed a sign that read: “Coast Guard Station, Three Miles.”

Another nearby sign -A larger one, somewhat faded and covered in vines- had a happy smiling unicorn, one with a purple mane with light turquoise highlights, the mane itself resembling something out of the fifties. In her hoof was a drink called “Pon!”. Below that, it read “Starlight Glimmer, personal student of Ministry Mare Twilight drinks Pon!, why shouldn’t you?” If one was to be honest, that smile looked far too cheery to not be forced for the advertisement. If she had the time, Target would have rolled her eyes at the cheesiness of it all.

Eventually, the two stumbled upon an old ramshackle rickety satire of a shack, falling apart from years of miscare. Not ideal but it would have to do for the time being. Other buildings, of long ago were nearby, but only their concrete bases remained as evidence of them being there. This must have been the coast guard station that sign had mentioned.

And so, they set both Riptalon and Iron down again, and started compressing their chests once more, and breathing air into their lungs. From somewhere behind them, in the mist, the sound of gunfire echoed. Thundering booms, of a bullet breaking the sound barrier. Target’s sniper rifle. The sounds of machine gun fire, the SAWS (Squad Automatic Weapons) of the Vertibuck’s gunners. It seemed Midnight was charging into one last battle.

Henri hung her head as she heard the sound of an explosion, and in the distance, a fireball rose high into the sky. “Good on you, Midnight… Good on you,” Henri whispered as she crossed herself with a claw before turning back to Riptalon. “Not going to die on me today Blackhawk, not before I have a chance to kill you myself…”

Finally, a coughing sound and Riptalon spat up water, with Iron soon to follow. Henri breathed a sigh of relief, before her eyes widened in horror at the very distinctive sound of the rapid ticking of her Pipbuck’s Geiger counter.

She quickly shoved some Rad-Away into both of their mouths, and Iron was immediately hit with quite possibly, the most bile substance he’d ever had the displeasure of tasting. It hit like a brick, and was it rancid! He wanted to throw it right back up but forced it down, coughing and hacking.

“Yeah, yeah… Let it go down,” Riptalon muttered, after holding back his gag reflex. You never quite got used to the taste of the stuff. He’d had it before, and every time he wished he’d just died of the radiation poisoning. The stuff was that vile. “It’s a bitch, I know… But trust me, better this than a pony forest fire…”

“Whoever designed that stuff, probably killed a few ponies while doing so! I almost threw up!” Iron snapped. “Just… Just leave me here for a moment. I… I just… Go on, I jus’ need’a…” he coughed out, gesturing for them to leave before they all turned their heads away in disgust as a retching sound was heard. “...O-Okay, I’m good now…”

It was almost as if he was thinking, right before he threw up, that he just needed a minute to go lie somewhere and die. Well, if his reaction and tone was any indication.

“Almost threw up?” Riptalon asked, tilting his head. “I’d sorta say you did…” he commented with a somewhat amused smirk before it turned slightly sympathetic. “Believe me, kid, I’d like to say the taste gets better… But it doesn’t really.”

“Figured as much…” Iron grumbled. “My opinion, whoever designed that should be shot. In the head. Honestly… Bloody stuff might just kill you, it’s poison, it is! Radiation antidote, I don’t think so! ...Okay, maybe it is, but it puts you out of your misery before the rads get you…”

“Honestly, bottom of my heart?” Riptalon asked. “Been thinking the same thing myself whenever I take that crap at times. Seriously though... You alright?”

“Well, aside from the fact that I have this recurring nightmare where an insufferable arsehole keeps talking to me about all of his problems with me and expresses desires to murder me, and I can't escape, I'm fine and dandy.” Iron deadpanned. Riptalon actually cracked up at that.

“Well, look on the bright side. Instead of the train, we could have taken the boat ride... Got swallowed up by sea serpents instead of blown up." Riptalon snarked back.

“Will you two shut it?” Target hissed out, and both of them immediately shut their mouths, quelled by the look on the sharpshooter pony’s face. “Hear something. Over in that direction…”

Sure enough, there was the sound of metal hitting the gravel road and Henri’s eyes narrowed as she drew her knife.

“Enclave…” She growled out. “Knew it wouldn’t be long before they found us. Defensive positions!”

She tossed an assault rifle to Iron, who gripped it in his hooves, before rushing out of the shack and taking a position behind a boulder.

Then, from out of the woodland brush, came marching a squad of Enclave soldiers clad from head to hoof in insect-like Power Armor. Their ensemble was completed with an armored scorpion-like tail -Tipped off in a deadly looking stinger- swinging, dangling back and forth from left to right. The only part of their body that went unarmored was the wings, oddly enough. Maybe metal weighed them down, and made it hard, if not impossible for them to flap them and stay aloft for any length of time. Iron could only speculate, and he didn’t have long to do that as they opened fire with Novasurge rifles.

Firing hot plasma with each blast, one hit from any one of the guns would be a deadly, and an incredibly painful way to go out. Even as he peeked out from behind the boulder to fire off a few shots, before taking cover again, Iron remembered what Calamity had told him about this type of weapon back in Neigh Orleans.

“Now…” Calamity said, holding out a fearsome looking gun. “Novasurge rifles, standard issue weapon of the Enclave. Magical energy weapon, and very easy to maintain. However… very, and Ah mean very deadly. Incinerates ya on contact, you’ll die screaming. Not a very nice way to go, lemme tell you. Ah’ve used these, and even Ah feel sorry for the poor soul on the other end of the barrel. Mah advice, don’t get in a tangle with soldiers who have these… Though Ah have the feelin’ you will sooner or later in these times…”

“Surrender, and give yourselves up!” one of the soldiers shouted over the din of gun and plasma fire. “We give you our word, you won’t be harmed!”

Henri scoffed, yeah right. Like she believed that for a moment. They were just buying time until reinforcements arrived.

“Oh yeah? Well, I wanted a puppy when I was a little fledgling, didn’t mean I ever got one!” She snapped as she pulled out her pistols and using the S.A.T.S system, popped two of the soldiers clean between the eyes, bullets not caring about the armor and going clean through and through.

Iron joined in, and unleashed a spray of bullets as Riptalon threw a smoke bomb into the already chaotic battlefield. While the Enclave soldiers couldn’t see worth a dime, the same couldn’t be said for Iron who thanks to the S.A.T.S system, saw green figures in the smoke. His gun trembled in his hooves from the recoil as he fired again and again, hearing screams erupt from the smoke with each successful kill.

If Riptalon, or anybody else could be bothered to look at Iron’s expression, they might have been scared as on that muzzle rested an expression of tranquility. Like Iron was at home on the battlefield, nowhere else.

Soon, all the soldiers lay on the ground, limbs splayed out in various positions. Tin soldiers who were no longer played with… Or it seemed that way until Target felt a gun against her head.

Then, there was a loud boom as that pony’s head exploded in a shower of blood and gore, and after the body slumped forwards, there stood Midnight. His shotgun was in his hooves, barrels smoking.

“Midnight?” Target asked, scarcely able to believe it even as her rifle was tossed to her.

“Hey, told you I was going to buy you some time. Didn’t mean I was going to go out in some blaze of glory, cool as that would be.”

Target only laughed.

Author's Notes:

Okay, first off, huge thanks to my proofreaders for this chapter, Ponyjosiah13, Xenopony and KylerAdams of Stable Scout. Klyer Adams and Xenopony for the proofreading, and Josh for his help on teaching me actual CPR, which I'm embarrassed to admit, like Target herself, know nothing about. So don't trust me with saving your life one day if you fall in a pool okay? No, seriously... Don't. Now,
various other notes.

Originally, I was going to have Riptalon title drop the chapter in one of his comments towards Iron, but I decided against it. Dunno why, just did.

Actually, back to Target. For a while now, she's been this bland character, just sorta... there. But thanks to her creator, (Give him a shout will you?) he gave me a great idea on how to develop her more, add some character. I've also got a few ideas of my own, and they all line up with the name Quartermane. If you're a fan of classic novel characters or the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, you'd know the name I'm parodying.

Final bit, and this is mostly just trivia about a creature I may or may not use, but I'm thinking over of giving the FoE treatement to this critter from Kong: Skull Island. May not happen, but it's a thought.

As always, comments and critique are very welcome. Until next time, don't feed the Yao Gaui. That is all.