Author's Notes:

Welp, we're back, and got one hell of a wham moment waiting for you at the end of the chapter...

(Also, huge thanks to RuinQueen for contributing a certain part of the chapter. She knows the one.)

Junction Town:

“You know, I don’t honestly get what everyone’s so worked up about really,” Nimbus said as he loaded ‘Songbird’ up with a full cartridge of ammo. “Course DJ-Pon3 isn’t the real fuckin’ deal, how could he or she be? Unless Vinyl survived as a ghoul, no way she’s been broadcastin’ for well over 200 years now. Am I not correct?” he asked to nopony in particular.

“You must understand,” Soulshine told him, the Trottingham-borne stallion putting his own words of wisdom in. “Yeah sure everyone knew Vinyl died years ago and DJ-Pon3 is just a legacy name but it’s the zebra part that’s thrown everyone for a loop. Zebras, part of the reason Equestria’s the way it is now? Any of this registering in your mind?”

“Oh, it’s registering alright,” Nimbus said. “Registering in my mind that half of you ponies are brain dead morons. This Xiraia as you call her? Hasn’t done nothing to hurt anyone so why is everybody reacting like it’s the end of the whole world?”

“For some ponies, it is,” Soulshine replied. “Remember, they’ve trusted and relied on Xiraia for years so this is a very big breach of trust for them. Ask yourself, the pony you’ve been relying on for a decade has just turned out to be a Zebra. How would you feel?”

“Wouldn’t give a damn,” Nimbus said. “End of the day, she’s still her right? Zebra or no Zebra. Sun goes up, stars fall and vice versa. Still her. I swear, I’m the only sane pony here and everyone else is an idiot!”

“Well,” Soulshine laughed after a brief wince. “Gotta say for all your faults you’re definitely not a judgemental or at least bigoted pony. Rude, blunt, and need a few lessons in manners but you’ve got that going for you so that’s something to be admired,”

“Please, don’t start admiring me, I’m not worthy of that,” Nimbus replied with a distinct glare in Soulshine’s direction. “Had plenty of that over my lifetime, and seen ponies admired as well. Always ended up going to their heads, made them start thinking they’re something they’re not.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize who he was probably referring to. At this, Soulshine had the decency to wince. But still he continued on.

“Listen, you’re no Stormy Skies. Admiration going to your head? Can’t see that happening, you just don’t have the personality for it. If anything, I’d say your self-esteem is so low that you genuinely don’t believe yourself anything of worth,”

“And what makes you say that?” Nimbus asked in a dangerous tone. A wiser buck would have backed off but Soulshine didn’t knowing Nimbus needed to hear this.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened to you up there in Coltlumbia or wherever and I will never pretend to, but your whole life -despite what you may think of it- hasn’t been a failure,” Soulshine lectured him. “You’re actually doing good for the Wastelands in your own small way. You and Twilight leading the charge, and rescuing me and my troop of Rangers at Fillydelphia? That was no failure or no accident. You wanted to help save someone, ponies that by default wouldn’t matter to you one jot and yet you still dived in the chaos and the hell of it all to help. You’re a good stallion Nimbus, and-”

Nimbus gave him a truly ferocious glare. “I am not a good stallion, and you or anyone else thinking me otherwise is their greatest mistake. I never will be, at the end of the day, a good stallion,” he stated thinking back to his many mistakes and those who’d died under his care and those who wanted to die. “Personally, half of the time I’d rather let these idiot wastelanders burn with their prejudices and the Hell they’ve made for themselves.”

“Funny that,” Soulshine asked. “Is it so hard to believe? That a stallion born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear that it burns him up inside, until one night he’s moved to actually do something about it? Rebel? Fight the good fight?” he asked.

“Ask me again, Soulshine Blueblood, -Oh yes, I know who you are, as I looked and asked around- are we talking about me, or just yourself? Your making up for the general uselessness of your lineage, who basically sat around like fops doing nothing but moaning about how the whole world hated them and their uselessness?” Nimbus asked piercingly, and for the next few moments, Soulshine said nothing even as Nimbus continued. “Ask me, why do I keep you around and not shoot you? Why do I keep any of you around, why do I keep talking to you instead of just walking off without a care in the world?”

“Because the alternative would be developing a conscience of your own?” Soulshine replied, asking this just as piercingly as Nimbus had asked his own question. Nimbus stayed silent for a good long while after that. As much as he hated to admit it, Soulshine had a point. A member of the Blueblood family lineage actually had a point. There was something wrong with that entire statement. But be that as it may, it was still a point all the same. Henri, Soulshine, Flashfire, Stripped Gear, Twilight and even that damned Riptalon all kept him honest. Kept him from saying “Fuck it all!” and just leaving them to rot in their own filth. He would never be a good pony, not by a long shot, but he would be there for them. Wasteland needed a few small improvements, or at least a few good and strong-backed equestrians to change it and he intended to see that all of them lived to see that next tomorrow. He may not live to see that next tomorrow, that next time when the sun finally rose over Equestria’s scorched lands but he made intent to make sure that they did.

Nimbus made a nickering of disgust as he heard the ponies surrounding him. Always Xiraia this or Xiraia that. It was beginning to grow beyond annoying by this point.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if lynch mobs started forming in the streets sometime soon…” Nimbus muttered. “Really, they have so many better things to do than complain about betrayal. Like, say, actually doing something about the much larger problem at hoof?”

He knew ponies, they’d get over this in time. They always did. What generally seemed earth-shattering one moment, it usually turned out be fairly blase the next. ...At least that’s what he liked to think was often the case. But right now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Mob mentality, always easy to stir up and always fairly stupid,” Nimbus mused. “Ponies as a whole are stupid, by default. Think we’re born that way, it’s our greatest challenge to actually grow a few brain cells and keep them.”

He heard a soft muttering coming from his left; Jabari whispering to himself these words.

“It's nothing. Nothing. Definitely. Sure. Ninety-nine percent sure. Really? Ninety-nine percent? That's quite high. Is that the figure you're sticking with? OK, OK, Seventy-five. Well, that's jumped quite a bit. You've just lost twenty-four percent...”

“Something wrong?” Nimbus asked and Jabari let out a little yelp and jumped a bit.

After catching his breath, he answered: “S-Sorry, just calculating odds here. Odds of my survival.”

“What odds? Because if they’re odds of you surviving going back to Manehatten if the NCR ever pulls it’s head out of it’s arse then you might want to drop those odds a bit lower. Much lower.”

“No, odds of my survival via lynching,” Jabari whispered fearfully.

“Ah, might want to drop those odds even lower still. Crowds are getting ugly,” Nimbus replied gesturing to all the angry looks sent Jabari’s way. “They need someone to take their frustration out on,” he continued. “Frustration at being betrayed via the outing of Xiraia and the frustration of having Manehatten under occupation via Enclave forces.”

“Call it hopeful optimism or arbitrary skepticism but you’re not a dick ninety-nine percent of the time, are you? You’re just more fed up than usual today,” Jabari surmised. “That is it… right?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Nimbus replied. “But if I were you, I’d get somewhere… safe.” he trailed off seeing a gun pointed in Jabari’s face.

“Oh lovely, let’s solve all our problems with violence shall we?” Jabari asked sarcastically. “Sure, like that ever gets anyone anyw-”

He was soundly cut off by a punch to the face from a stallion, swaying drunkenly.

“Shaddup you!” the stallion slurred out, with the smell of fetid whiskey on his breath. “You don’t get to talk! Don’t think I can see those stripes! Hey boys, we’ve got a zebra here!”

“U-Uh, zorse technically…” Jabari replied rubbing his bloodied mouth and his horn sparking nervously.

“Not helping,” Nimbus commented as a crowd began to gather. “Besides, half of them are too stupid to tell the difference anyways.”

“Hey, you calling stupid?” the stallion -Nimbus decided he’d call him Braindead- asked and Nimbus backed away slowly. Not from fear, he could take this moron easily but from the sheer stench he created. Whiskey, never won you any points with the women. Or Nimbus in this case ironically enough. All the while, the crowd began to get uglier and uglier with threats for Jabari’s head, horns or other parts being called. Needless to say, Nimbus was wondering where the hell the guards were, and why the hell the ones that were here weren’t doing a thing about this. He then remembered.

“Oh yes, they hate zebras about as much as everypony else. Silly me,” he reminded himself before turning himself back to the stallion and getting up in his face. “You… stupid.” Nimbus replied. Strike that, he’d call him buckethead. Head was shaped like one anyways. “And listen, if I were you, and I’d begin to think very hard over my next few words with what little minuscule brain cells you actually have then listen to me well. By the way,” he asked now to the crowd. “Has anyone noticed how short, sweaty, and all-together fugly this homunculus is? Small wonder he gets mares to bed him!”

“Oh sure, insult the guy with the gun... “ Jabari muttered. “That’ll work out swell!”

“Alright you, that’s it!” the stallion Nimbus had decided to go back to calling Braindead roared and fired his pistol. So drunk was he, he missed Nimbus by a mile. Nimbus however, didn’t miss and shot him in the knee sending him screaming to the ground in pain.

“Okay good. Now that we’ve reached an understanding of how bad guns are and how they don’t mix with whiskey, maybe we can get on with things eh?” Nimbus chirped.

“Hypocrite…” Jabari remarked.

“Look, I know you’re in shock, and in pain from the current DJ-Pon3 being a zebra and you having been lied to all these years,” Nimbus said, actually sounding a little bit kind for once today. “But… BUT! Pain is a gift. Without the capacity for pain, we can't feel the hurt we inflict. And right now, given how much you lot seem to look up to Celestia for Celestia-knows-why I really don’t think she’d approve of all of this. Do you?”

Nimbus was as about as surprised as everyone else was when the crowd actually quieted down and began to disperse. He blinked, before commenting: “...Well, I didn’t actually think that’d work. I thought I was going to get shot or something.”

“You mean you were gambling on fate?” Jabari asked in stark disbelief.

“No, I was gambling on the fact that ponies still worshipped Celestia. Looks like I came all hot.”

“...You are a real imbecile at times, you do know that right?” Jabari asked.

“I think the phrase you’re looking for is thank you. Now, if you excuse me, I need to go get something to drink. Being so nice in such a short amount of time generally leaves me quite parched.”

With that, he walked off.

By pure chance or maybe it was something else Nimbus found himself stumbling into the local bar that evening in a fit of rage. Manehatten was under occupation by Winter Breeze and her forces even now and everypony was just sitting on their arses too in shock by recent revelations concerning a certain zebra to do a damn thing about it! Sickened him, the whole thing did.

“Something on the rocks if you please. Something strong,” Nimbus asked the bartender. Soft piano music played in the background, something nice and sweet. “Celestia knows I need it. Idiots! The whole bloody lot of ‘em! New Canterlot Republic my fat…” he trailed off before scoffing. “If they’re so dedicated to protecting Equestria, why aren’t they waging a siege on Manehatten? Giving Winter the boot? No, all they do is just stand and mutter about how betrayed they are by Xiraia…”

Something was different about the bartender this evening, and for that matter he never remembered this place looking quite so classy. Or playing piano music for that matter. It was always some form of rock music really.

“Life’s but a joke really…” Nimbus muttered, quoting the song that was playing from the nearby jukebox. It certainly applied right about now.

“But you and I we’ve been through that before, and this is not our fate,” a mare’s voice said as he looked up to see a tall imposing figure. He blinked, wasn’t she just the one serving drinks about a minute ago? Sure enough, she was levitating a glass of scotch in her magic aura setting it in front of him.

The mare’s coat was pitch black as she stared him down with red eyes that were framed by her long white mane. She was dressed in a pre-war suit and she gave him a smile. What drew his attention though was not only her horn, but a pair of wings and a cutie mark of red and white stars.

Nimbus’ glass fell from his grasp and it hit the floor with a loud crash. “Nightmare…” he whispered.

“Not exactly,” the mare said with a crisp Trottingham accent. “Welcome to the Ninth Circle, Nimbus. Tell me, what do you desire more than anything in this life?”

“A hefty dose of sanity, and a few explanations as to what’s going on? Ah, and oh yes, for the damned New Canterlot Republic to actually stop meandering about and do something about their current problem instead of wondering if they should really trust DJ-Pon3 now!” Nimbus shouted furiously, panting and sweating.

“Ah, I see,” the mare said as she looked at him curiously. “The sun is not rising from their side, Nimbus.”

“Has it ever?” Nimbus chuckled darkly not even bothering to wonder how this mare knew his name even if he never gave it. Ponies always knew his name. At least, most did. And somehow, at the back of his mind he suspected he knew this mare’s own as well. He’d just rather not believe it. “Always been on the backhoof, this lot…”

“I know things, things you’re privy too, things you may not yet know,” she said as she hummed the tune that had been playing. “Outside in the cold distance, a wildcat did growl. Two ponies were approaching, as the wind began to howl.”

“You’re a music mare aren’t you?” Nimbus remarked lightly as another glass of scotch was given. He drank it down, knowing he wasn’t quite drunk enough yet for all of this. “But enough of that. Is there a point to all of…” he trailed off, gesturing to his surroundings. “Well, all of this phantasmagoria of lack of a better phrase?”

“This? Well, you might say that, once this place stood before the darker times, before the war,” the mare said wistfully for a moment. “I found it appropriate for our meeting.”

“So, nostalgia value? It’s as simple as that?” NImbus asked in disbelief.

“Perhaps, and perhaps I found it was the best place to talk,” the mare said and chuckled a little. “Devil to devil. Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a mare of wealth and taste.”

Nimbus actually burst out laughing. “That old line? Seriously? Well, I suppose I’d best humor you. Pleased to meet you, ma’am, I’m only guessing at your game,” he replied, still not exactly believing what was going on. He was dreaming, he had to be. Or maybe someone slipped him something when he wasn’t paying attention.

“How many black Alicorns do you know of?” The mare said with a snort. “You’re not in Equestria anymore, you’re in my realm.”

“You’re be surprised. Nightmare Society, lends itself well to black Alicorns. And yeah, probably not in Equestria anymore,” Nimbus continued on. “I’m dreaming.”

“Ah yes, Dark Midnight and her little cult of crazies, and I thought my fanponies were nuts,” the mare said with a shake of her head. “So, you think you’re dreaming? Perhaps you’re dreaming or perhaps I’ve drawn you out of your dream into my realm, Tartarus has its share of secrets, as does its ruler.”

“Okay, well if you’re really the Morning Star, then tell me this,” Nimbus replied with more than a small degree of skepticism. “How would you deal with my particular brand of insane? Like say, a griffon ghoul worried about going feral and wanting you to shoot her if that happens?” he asked, and to his surprise he found his pistol missing. Eyes widening, he took a few steps back from the mare in fear. “What did you…?”

“A curious weapon,” Morning Star said as she examined the weapon in her grip. “Curious isn’t it? Over a thousand years passed since I was Celestia’s student with technology only advancing so much. Then ponies get into a little war and everything gets a jump forward. But to answer your question, the only option is to kill them, Ferals are dangerous regardless of species and if you are in a populated area she presents a threat to the locals. The needs of the many and all of that,”

“One, I’d hardly call that war little and two…” Nimbus said, a feral protective edge to his tone. One that he didn’t even realize he could possess. “She hasn’t gone feral, not yet at least,”

“I meant only if she starts to go feral of course,” Morning Star said with a snort. “I am not as heartless as the stories say, and I have watched you ponies for a long time. Funny really, one of your greatest heroes shares a nickname with one of my old titles.”

“Oh?” Nimbus asked, tilting his head. He didn’t like his kind being referred to as ‘you ponies’, as if this mare thought herself above them. Rubbed him the wrong way for so many reasons. “Who might that be?”

“The Lightbringer of course, that runt of a Unicorn with the cute flanks,” Morning Star said with a chuckle. “One of my old titles back in the old days was the bringer of light, but that was a long time ago. I suppose it’s long been forgotten to the years.”

“End of the day, sun goes up and then down you’re still just a mare like any one of us. Lightbringer or not, or whatever you want to call yourself. So please, would you kindly get off your throne for a moment and treat yourself like a normal pony? I don’t like others thinking themselves superior to me. You of all ponies should understand why,” Nimbus stated calmly in spite of his fear. He’d have been stupid not to be afraid really considering who he was faced with.

“Alright, you want me to drop the pretense, you’re questioning why the NCR isn’t moving in on Manehattan despite the occupation,” Morning Star said. “You’re asking yourself the wrong question, what would keep them from making such a move? A major city and settlements have been occupied by the enemy of the day, and the NCR sits back and does nothing, why?”

“You a friend of that Dealer pony I keep hearing about, you’d get along so well…” Nimbus muttered. “But yeah, I have a suspicion. There’s something in Manehatten alright, a superweapon. One false move, and ZAP! Wiped off the face of Equus, this entire settlement just like that. I’d rather not believe Winter would do such a thing, but in all honesty, I’m not sure I know her anymore. War has this rather nasty habit of changing ponies.”

“Winter Breeze is a curious pony,” Morning Star commented. “It takes a special pony to be willing to damn their own soul for the greater good. She has to play the game Nimbus, a dangerous game that is the only way for her to reach her real goals. A Megaspell will make it possible to end this war on her terms. And eventually, she will be faced with the reality of what’s going on through her actions.”

“I don’t deal in what-ifs and maybes, not a fan of that prediction crap. I’m more curious about what lies in the here and now. And here and now, Winter’s got a whole nation hostage. How do I fix that? I… I like to believe I have a plan for everything, but right now? I… I just don’t,” Nimbus whispered. “She’s got all the cards right now, and all I can do? Put on a brave face and pretend to know a way out of this mess.”

“That is a question that you’re going to have to ask yourself,” Morning Star said. “Winter Breeze is currently the most powerful pony in Equestria because of her strength. The NCR isn’t going to roll over either, they’re going to have a plan, likely sending ponies not officially with them like Scootaloo into the city to try and deal with the situation. If you want to understand Winter Breeze better and if you want to help liberate the city, your best bet might be doing the same.”

“Well, I was never officially inducted into the NCR. Just given this armor and told not to die while liberating Mount Pleasant more or less. But in all honesty, it’s not Winter I fear most. It’s him, the devil who walks in a priest’s garb. Stormy, it’d be all too easy for him to take advantage of this and Celestia knows he has one Hell of a grudge against Winter for throwing him out.”

“A devil cast out of paradise,” Morning Star said raising a glass. “I can relate. So, what do you want to do? Your best bet I’d like to think if you believe that he will do something like travel into the most heavily fortified city on the planet,”

“Oh, I more than believe. He’s just that stupid enough to try, and he’s got the Nightmare Society’s power and support backing him up now. And he’s burning with enough hatred for Winter and her ways. Fire and Ice, that’s what’s about to clash. You and I both know it. The peacekeeper, and the madman.”

“Then go, stop him and save your friend,” Morning Star said. “I cannot tell you everything, but I will tell you this. Winter Breeze is integral to the future of Equestria, if ponies like Stormy take control then there may not be a future left.”

“Or one worth living in…” Nimbus agreed as he suddenly found himself rearmed. He chuckled. “Who’d have thought, the devil herself actually needing to knock another devil to his senses?”

With that he walked back out into Junction Town’s streets, never noticing the sign on the bar above him saying: “Lux” before fading away with the bar soon to follow. Piano music fell silent and was replaced by the chattering of ponies and hoof traffic. Nimbus shook his head, wanting to dismiss that whole scenario as a simple drug-induced hallucination.

“But even so, if it was only a hallucination, she sure gave some damn good advice. ...Makes one wonder doesn’t it?”

Nimbus was still very much trying to clear his head on just exactly what the Hell -Perhaps literally, if that really was who he thought it to be- he’d experienced. He made a groaning sound, he’d have to think on it later. Right now there were far more important things to be doing.

“Jabari,” Nimbus asked the young zorse. “Are your townspeople ready to defend their home?”

“Oh quite ready I’m sure enough of that,” Jabari replied. “But ready to ally themselves with Equestria? That I’m not really sure of. Especially not after the stunt Calamity had pulled. I’d like to think it opened up their eyes, but that’s just wishful thinking really.”

“They’re that xenophobic huh?” Nimbus muttered, and Jabari stared at him. Mistaking this for a look of confusion, the dark gray pegasus continued. “Xenophobic. Means they have an intense or irrational dislike or fear of creatures from other countries. Or in this case creatures from another town. Same thing really with them, if how you’ve described them is correct…”

“More like say… distrusting,” Jabari corrected him in a slightly snippy tone. Slightly. “And yes, despite being practically raised in a cave I do know what xenophobic means. I did have some teachers thank you very much.”

“Okay then…” Nimbus trailed off rather taken aback that Jabari had even the courage to talk back to him. He was normally so quiet and shy after all. Guess being out in the real world changed a buck. “Okay, being truthful here? Your town’s survival, and for that matter your chances of survival are about one in a thousand. So here's what you do. You forget the thousand, and you concentrate on the one.”

“I think I can handle myself in a fight against some Enclave troops thank you, I practically grew up in a gladiator pit,” Jabari stated. “Besides, thought you didn’t like taking kids into a battle. Riptalon told me about that little facet of yours.”

“A, you stopped being a kid the moment you picked up that sword and used it against another, and B, it’s not the Enclave I’m worried about. At least… not Winter’s,” Nimbus sighed. “It’s Stormy Skies. He’d jump at this chance. Before, he wouldn’t have been quite so stupid. But now that he’s got the power of the Nightmare Society behind him, and is an alicorn himself he’s feeling a lot more confident in himself I’m willing to bet.”

“Okay, when you put it that way, that one does seem like a very good thing to concentrate on…” Jabari trailed off. “So, tell me you’ve got a plan?”

“Well, as much as I’d like to waltz into Manehatten like a superhero and let all of Stormy Skies’ troops fall into a deafening silence as their own personal devil comes to reap their souls I very much doubt that’s going to happen,” Nimbus remarked. “Like I said, Nightmare Society. Has a way of bolstering one’s confidence when you have an army of alicorns by your side and your leader is now an alicorn himself. ...Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish Blackjack were a real mare. God knows we need a superheroine, if not a drunken one.” he grumbled.

He thought back to Morning Star’s words. He sighed, it was a long shot but they needed an army of their own. And it just so happened the NCR qualified. Now he just had to convince a brick wall of a griffon hen, one Regina Grimfeathers that she needed to hand him a bunch of troops to bust down the walls of the most heavily fortified city on Equestria. He sighed. Fun.

Jabari sighed to himself. He hated his townspeople at times, as much as Jabari hated to admit it distrusting was an awfully generous way of looking at things really. Xenophobic may have been more right on the money than Nimbus realized. With characters like Crow and a certain breed of rats walking about it wasn’t really surprising that they may not have liked others just waltzing into town. They feared someone taking control. All of the species in the town, or at least most of them were outcasts from Equestrian society, feared and distrusted. Some with perhaps apt reason to be in Crow’s case maybe but others not so much. And sure, the Wasteland was a pile of shit at times but that didn’t mean it deserved to be left to rot. He’d heard once, over the radio that this saying. “This world is a harsh place. I have seen so much death, so much suffering. But in time I learned that beneath it is there is still a seed of hope, and good creatures willing to dedicate their lives to make that hope bloom.”

From Homage, he believed it was. Cynical as all hell that mare was at times, but she did speak the truth no matter what. Element of Honesty and all, and if she said there was good in this world then he liked to believe it so. And he liked to believe there was good in his townspeople. Nimbus would have probably called him unbearably naive but Jabari liked to believe in spite of all the evil he’d seen in his rather short life on this planet that there was good everywhere to be found. Hell, maybe even in the Enclave in some places.

“In the Enclave…” Jabari mused. “Yes, there is. Nimbus is proof alone about that. But surely he’s not the exception that proves the rule right? Are there others? Others who just need enlightenment? That there’s always a better path than just simple violence and eradication? Others who just need that simple offering of Friendship to show them the truth?”

Yeah, so what if he’d been spending a little too much time around Twilight? So sue him! Inklings of a plan began to form in his mind. He’d heard rumors about who rested in Arbu prison, he just needed access to that place to confirm his theories. Trouble was, that wouldn’t be easy. He suspected if asked, he’d be flat out denied. Oh well, there were always challenges in life right? And to win this war they’d need all the allies one could get.

Speaking of challenges he noted Riptalon was being rather… odd as of late. The griffon’s usual surliness had vanished and had been replaced with something a bit more… unusual. Worry. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say the griffon was conflicted about something.

With more than a little bit of caution, Jabari approached him. The massive griffon was sitting on the edge of town trying to -presumably- stay away from everyone else.

“You know something? That brooding look, doesn’t suit you,” Jabari remarked before putting a hoof to his chin in thought. “Unless of course, you’re just going for the cool aloof look. In which case, I can probably help with that! Seriously, watch this!” he exclaimed, before leaning up against a fence post in this ever so casual manner as he adjusted his jacket. “This is how cool guys lean against things. When you see a guy leaning against a thing looking this cool, you think, “Wow! That guy doesn't have a care in Equestria. Not a guy who leans on things that cool.”

He looked decidedly ridiculous and both of them knew it. Riptalon fought back a snort, and Jabari smiled.

“Well, least I got a snerk out of you, and don’t bother denying it, because I know a snerk when I see one!” Jabari exclaimed.

“You remind me a little bit of him you know,” Riptalon said, with that Nine of Swords card in his claw. “Midnight Radiance. You know, before he up and got himself killed.”

“I’m… sorry?” Jabari trailed off, trying to sound sympathetic for a pony he only barely knew and just by name at that. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment, I guess… I mean, I only know of the pony and that’s because of you mentioning him and great, now I’m babbling…”

Riptalon fought back another chuckle. “See, like I said, you remind me of him, or at least the him I thought I knew. The him I thought I knew, well that was this pony who was almost constantly cheery for one reason or another and had a joke to crack,” Riptalon mumbled still fingering the card in his claw. “However, I’ve been doing some thinking. Like it or not, Nimbus may have had a point. Don’t say this to him, as I know I’ll never hear the end of it but Midnight was probably the one who betrayed us on Mount Pleasant Island. And yet I kissed the bastard! Or he kissed me, not entirely sure anymore…”

Beside him, Midnight’s spirit smirked. “So, you finally admit it,” the once charcoal-coated pony remarked. “Good for you. You know, I’ve been thinking. You survived because of me. So having you die so I can live... Is just natural. I'll live... for ‘your’ sake too. I’ll take over your body after you die, continue your legacy… and mine. Just putting that out there, for the record of course.”

Riptalon ignored him as he always did. Wasn’t like the spirit if that’s what he even really was ever had crap worth listening to anyhow.

“Wow, talk about how love hurts…” Jabari trailed off blinking slightly in shock.

“Was it love? Or was it just a spur of the moment thing? I’m not really sure, probably never will be,” Riptalon remarked, and all the while ‘Midnight’ continued to comment on the state of things.

“Why... Why does someone as hollow as you with nothing to protect get to live? Why do I have to die?” ‘Midnight’ ranted. Riptalon gave out a little snort. If that really was Midnight, he’d comment on what a little hypocrite he was. If he truly had nothing to protect, that sure would explain a Hell of a lot of the reasonings he had for selling them out to the Enclave.

“Anyways, I have to ask, what was with that visit to that sweat lodge a few days ago? Looking to try and conjure up Midnight’s spirit?” Jabari asked.

“Was trying to, or at least get some form of answers. And boy, did I ever get them,” he remarked holding up that card of his. “Minor Arcana. Generally, I don’t put much stock into this kind of crap, and I generally probably never will. Mind you, the Dealer pony might have been onto something…”

“I’m sorry, the Dealer? As in the Dealer? Geez… Your life’s all sorts of crazy if you think you’re seeing the supposed spirit of the wastelands…” Jabari mumbled before his head shot straight back up. “I… I mean, no offense of course you understand,” he stammered out quickly backtracking.

“Eh, I’ve grown to accept the possibility that I might have come out crazy a long time ago. Can’t live in the Wastes without getting a little bit of that. It’s pretty much a given. Anyways, like I was saying. Major and Minor Arcana. Don’t put too much stock into them, although maybe just this once I’ll listen. The Nine of Swords. When I got it, it was reversed. Means things like inner turmoil, deep-seated fears, having secrets, and releasing worries. Well, pretty sure I’ve got a lot of inner turmoil really, and more than a few deep-seated fears. Personally, you know what I think, Midnight?” he asked, directing his questions to the spirit. “You’re my inner conscience, not this spectre haunting me. You’re trying to tell me a Hell of a lot about myself. But you can kindly stop now. You’ve grown rather annoying, and become a bit of an ass!” he shouted, and Jabari just looked confused.

“Sorry, personal demons. Had to be put to rest,” Riptalon remarked. Notably, Midnight had fallen strangely silent. Perhaps Riptalon would be paid another visit from him and perhaps he wouldn’t. Only time would tell, he supposed. “You understand how that is I assume?”

“Not really, I never had that many,” Jabari remarked. “And anyways, I’ve started to try not letting my past define me. It’s not my today, and it certainly isn’t my tomorrow. Least that’s what I keep telling myself. ...Oh well, guess my personal therapist would be proud,” the zorse mumbled.

Riptalon chuckled. “Remind me to remind you to get you to introduce me to him. Sounds like he could help me with my own personal problems,” he commented, tossing the card behind him and letting it fly away in the desert winds.

“I… I think I can do that,” Jabari smiled.

Meanwhile, Nimbus was paying a visit to a certain President of the NCR who was sitting in her office going through mounds of paperwork. Probably was just a fool’s errand, this, but it never hurt to try really. Along the way there, he’d heard this small little filly with this blue coat -Flood Waters he though Henri had called her at one point- singing a song in the street.

“It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, yeah…

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes…”

“It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no…” was what he’d heard her singing. Appropriate really.

“Don’t you’ve got better things to do? Like staging a war against your own personal preacher wannabe?” Regina asked. “Listen, as much as I’d like to help, I’ve got my own problems to worry about. Like a gun pointed at my town’s head.”

She briefly mumbled to herself: “...That damned ghost was onto something, wish I’d listened, but I was too foolish not to. Makes one wonder what else he’s right about.”

As she said this in a voice almost too soft to hear, she gripped a set of tarot cards in her claw. If Nimbus noticed them, or overheard her mutterings he decided it was best not to say a word about them.

“That’s what I’ve come to you about actually. Our goals are sorta aligning, I suspect My Little Preacher is probably going to come to call on Winter’s doorstep and I’d rather not make the situation in Manehatten any more dangerous than it has to be. Winter may not be interested in killing ponies, but Stormy, he-”

“You sound like you know the President,” Regina remarked raising an eyebrow. “Something you’re not telling me Nimbus?”

“Lot of things I’m not telling you madam, but yeah… I knew her,” Nimbus replied before his voice turned soft and sad thinking of times long since past. “Once, a long time ago. Feels like an eternity now that so much time’s passed and so many alignments have changed. She, believe it or not, actually wanted to change the Enclave around. Whether that’s actually happened or she just got swallowed up by their doctrine I don’t really know but that’s neither here nor there. I like to focus on the present. What I’m asking is this. Spare me a few of your troops, doesn’t have to be a lot, just a few.”

“And you want Manehatten to become a battleground?” Regina asked him a tone warning him to back off. “I’d like you to remember, there are still ponies that live there. I’d rather not have them get caught up in the crossfire,”

“It’s going to become a battleground whether you like it or not ma’am. So, please, I’m-”

“Listen, I’ve got to protect the homefront. For all we know, Stormy may come here. We’re the most functioning government in the Wastelands as it is, and toppling us would leave them in chaos,”

“You’re gambling on what ifs and maybes,” Nimbus shot back.

“And so are you,” Regina sighed. “Look, I have to look at the bigger picture here Nimbus. Needs of the many and all that,” she continued. “It’s not just one city I have to worry about. It’s every city. So no, I can’t spare you troops. However…” she trailed off with a small smirk hoping Nimbus would cotton on to what she was implying. “There’s a few hooves on the ground in Manehatten who would love nothing more than to pick a fight with the Enclave, you know what I’m saying?”

“Quite.” Nimbus smirked.

“Good. You just come back safe okay?” Regina asked. “Whatever the hell you’re planning or are about to start planning, you just come back safe from it alright?”

“Are you actually showing concern for a soldier who’s not officially under your command?” Nimbus gasped holding a hoof to his chest. “I’m almost touched!”

“Yeah, well don’t let it get out I’m not completely emotionless. You just get the job done alright? Say hello to Stormy Skies for me when you blow his head clean off alright?”

“Noted…” Nimbus remarked. “And trust me, I definitely will be giving him my regards.”

With that, he went to find his crew. Or rather Henri’s. Yeah, it was definitely Henri’s crew by now. He knew thinking otherwise was folly. He smiled, such a hardass on him but she was definitely such a mother hen to all of them. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Mind you, just this once he was going to be taking control. She wouldn’t mind… hopefully.

“Alright boys and girls,” Nimbus called as he tossed a sniper rifle to Target. “Saddle up, we’re going hunting. It’s Enclave Season.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Target smirked. “Where’s Henri?”

“Right behind you,” the hen’s voice said as she walked past Nimbus, giving him a look. “Who said you could start giving my crew orders?” she asked with a small smile.

“Nobody, ma’am. But like I said, it’s Enclave Season. And by the end of the afternoon when the sun goes down and the stars began to rise we’ll be sending them running -or flying as the case may be- a long ways away from Manehatten if I have anything to say about it.”

“Well, good to see you motivated, usually means there’s trouble to come. Long as you don’t hire us a train, then we should be golden.” Riptalon smirked loading up Lawgiver. Then, Nimbus did something rather bold and rather brazen. Even for him. He actually kissed the griffon full on the beak.

Leaving Riptalon gaping in shock as he climbed into a stolen Vertibuck, Nimbus turned back to him. “I’m expecting for that kiss to be returned you hear?” he commented. “Now let’s get to work. We’ve got a city to liberate, and one insane stallion to knock on his arse.”