“W-where exactly a-are we going?” Gold asked as he fought for control over the canvas duster that was far too long for his short body but refused to take off.

“I told you guys already, we’re headed for Shady Sands!” I replied, stopping and turning around to help him before he ended up tripping on the hems and breaking his neck. “That’s where Amaris said he was headed and since he hasn’t come back yet, we’re going on after him.”

“But w-why?” He asked again as I flipped through the inventory on my PipBuck and used its connection with the Deep Pocket spell to bring my sewing kit to the top of my saddlebags so I wouldn’t have to dig for it. “T-that’s NER territory you s-said.”

“Yeah, I thought you said they were the bad guys.” Melody said as she checked the bolt on her rifle for the third time, a cute habit she seemed to have started to adopt after watching me do the same with my own weapon. “They take taxes and grab land and all that stuff you talked about. They don't sound like friendly ponies to me.”

“Well, they’re greedy bastards sure but they’re not evil.” I said, doing a rough tailoring job on his coat so the sleeves at least fit on his forelegs and the coattails didn’t drag behind him like a wedding train. “Despite their shady economic and political tactics, these days they’re still doing good stuff here in the West. They protect the Northern caravans, established trade routes throughout the Western settlements and established a unified rule-of-law out here that their citizens are expected to follow. It’s the closest thing the Wastes has in terms of modern civilization like what we had in the old days. They’ve got laws, a relatively stable if partly corrupted government and a standing army keeping an eye over their citizens and territory. All-in-all, they've done more for the Wasteland than most ever do. NER lands are some of the safest in the country and I don't have to tell either of you how rare that sorta thing is these days.”

“Oh...well that does sounds nice.” Melody commented in a thoughtful tone while helping me with a particularly hard stitch on his right sleeve, her red violet magic nimbly manipulating the sewing needle with finesse. “So...should we be worried or feel safe heading into their territory? From what you've said, I don't have an idea what to think about these guys.”

“A mixture of safe and maybe a tad worried, but leaning much more towards the safe side. They've got more bark than bite these days since they've 'domesticated' two-thirds of the West and have far few Raider gangs roaming about. When we reach the first toll station let me do the talking alright? Anypony whose been in their military for more than a year should be able to recognize me. That'll help speed shit along.”

“Is that a g-good thing…?” Gold asked, happily running around a bit to test the rough stitching and finding the new fit was much better than the old one.

“Eh...again, a mixture.” I replied, brushing the sandy dirt from Melody’s coat before continuing forward through the hot desert expanse, a drab tan building visible in the hazy distance. “They know I’m not a direct threat but they also know I’m a walking arsenal that can obliterate Squads at 1,600 meters without ever being seen. They don't bother me, I don't shoot at them; couldn't ask for a better arrangement if you ask me, especially after I decked the last three recruiters from their Ranger Veterans. Just because I dress like them and shoot like them doesn't automatically mean I want to be a part of their little club...if anything, they're copying me.”

"Oh? What do you mean?" Melody asked as she glanced at my gear. "Do they have armor like this too?"

"What, the Mrk. IV? Phbbbt...not in a million years." I laughed with a smirk of pride. "No, my stuff is two steps down the R-series tech tree hun. They wear a similar style to mine but with a lot fewer bells and whistles called the Mrk. II. So think what Gold has on now but with a Kevyarn duster and some armor for the legs and hooves. Good protection from small-arms fire and works decently against your average rifle rounds long as you hit the ballistic impact plates."

"Y-you ever get Hitmare w-work out in the R-Republic?"

"Eh, not usually. They really only like to hire a select few in the Syndicate to do their dirty work thanks to some sort of prior tie with the Republic, usually a military connection. Least three of the Gung-ho Guns are former NER 1st Recon snipers and Jasper Brooch is a former Major in their army who just graduated to Hitmare status a few years ago. Only been in the Republic on a Contract a dozen times or so, all thanks to Green's connections up North who had business with me and certain undesirable business partners of theirs. Had to be as discrete as possible since a few of them were in government."

“W-why be discreet t-though?” Gold asked, admiring the polished grip of his Sequoia before putting his helmet back on. “Why not bang b-bang everything? S-send a message!”

“Really…?” I asked him with a sigh as it seemed he hadn’t learned anything. “Because dumbass, if I shoot everything then I go from being a well-armed traveler free to move about relatively unmolested to a known political assassin working for a cartel. If that happens, then I can’t walk openly in NER territory for any reason whether commercial or professional. Considering they firmly control all the territory North of New Pegasus this side of Canterlot all the way up to the Crystal Mountains, that’s like fifty-thousand square miles of land I can’t walk through. Not without a lot of stress.”

“O-oh…” He whimpered. “R-right…”

“If you choose to travel with me, you have to think less like a typical soldier and more like a Hitmare.” I laughed, smacking him on the rump making him eep with embarrassment. “Take as few shots as possible, leave as small of a hoofprint as you can and always be aware of where you are and who you’re with. Make a few friends you can trust to keep you informed and supplied, only make enemies out of people you can kill and always think about your public image. If you’re gonna be known for something, be known for being fair and having some measure of culture. Keeps most off your ass or in fear and the rest can be...persuaded. It’s a juggling act for sure but it pays off, especially when you play the long-game. Building up favors and saving them for a rainy day as we've seen can come in handy at a moment of crisis.”

“But...I thought you were leaving that behind?” Melody asked, the toll building coming clearer into view as we got closer. “You said you were mom…”

It was a little strange to be called that finally out loud in such a clandestine way. Had I been less prepared for it and not half-focused on the road it might have made me stop for a second to comprehend how...alluring the word was.

“I know...I know I did. I'm...not sure yet on that hun. It's been my way of life for the last century and a half and I don't know how to live otherwise anymore. I can promise you though that I will only take jobs if we need the money in the future and I will teach you both everything I can about how to stay on top of the competition out here. With Green most definitely sending a lot of firepower our way, we have to be as viscous and deadly as we can be to ward them off.”

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.” She sighed, looking ahead with a slightly anxious expression as we neared the toll booth. "I just...I don't want to fight. I just want to have a nice bedroom and lay down with you and just...forget about shit."

"Well...something like that is gonna take time and work to come about. We've got to find a place first after all and that's gonna take some time. In the meantime, we can go and find Scaly and get Gold's coat all made and I can ask him if he knows of anything around the area that might work. He likes to wander the desert a lot more than I do so it's possible he knows of a nice quiet place for us out there. Now, we're almost there so let's quiet down so I can get us through here."

The toll station was less of a set of booths lightly guarding the E-90 and more of a small, walled military camp with sliding steel gates blocking entrance further North. Within the octagonal shaped walls were a collection of small shacks surrounding a set of adobe brick buildings built on either side of the road which housed the toll booth, main office and barracks for a portion of their Southern garrison. Outside, on either side of the well-defended gates, were large fenced pastures for the multitudes of pack Brahmin waiting alongside their handlers for the red tape to unravel inside the office. Standing atop the sandbag-and-adobe walls as well as in a set of eight watch towers were armed ponies wearing the tan/brown uniforms of the NER, each carrying a scoped M14 or M1A1 in modest repair. It was not the kind of place to try and fuck with without either a lot of soldiers or a lot of long-range ordinance. Preferably both.

"Halt!" Commanded the stallion closest to us as we approached the Southern gate, his voice barely audible over the noise of the Brahmin pens nearby. "State your business here, strangers."

"I'm hired muscle for a caravan that came through here about a week ago. Was held back at the offices due to some payment issues with the company that hired me so now I'm just headed North to join up for the trip South." I replied without even missing a beat. "NER territory, sure but you know how these companies are with their insurance deposits."

"That so? You're the second one who's come by today with a similar story. Guess the fucker just got tired of waiting for ya two eh?" He replied, looking at his compatriot nearby nervously. "I know that armor...I've heard stories about you, Ranger."

"Oh really? Well then you know I'm not a bitch to keep held up longer than needed. Lemme in already, damnit."

He nodded and yelled up to his buddies on the wall to raise the gate. Two pairs of the wall guards approached the posts holding up the gate and bit onto a set of ropes connected by a pully system, tugging them back in unison and lifting the heavy steel door out of the way. Melody and Gold both kept mostly quiet as we passed but seemed enthralled with the gate mechanism and the quasi-shanty town that housed the caravanners as they awaited approval to continue. It had been interesting to internally document the place's evolution over the years as the NER grew in size and importance drawing in merchants a plenty. The Republic was ever more ripe for the markets as time went on and small scale industrial manufacturing had already begun to churn out patented NER products. Regardless of their problems, it could never be said that they were a bad thing for the Wasteland and were the closest thing to civilized society in the Wastes. At the end of the day, they had inherited all the problems that came with governing, protecting and developing a nation and were facing them with enough goodwill in their hearts to not be villainized like the Steel Rangers had. They protected their own even if they exploited them and their military brought peaceful nights of rest to hundreds of thousands. Far from terrible.

“Did they build these themselves or were these already here?” Melody asked, glancing at the office building as we neared the door from veering off the road.

"Nah, Pre-War shit is concrete, steel and drywall. The NER had to rediscover the magic of making bricks from sundried mud. Not quite clay like the old days but its just as good for building long as you don't build too high or expect to be shot at." I replied, tapping the side of the main office building as we walked parallel to it towards the front door.

“Don’t touch the building civilian!” Barked one of the guards up above, his eyes flashing dangerously from behind his goggles that protected them from the sand.

“Oh like my little poke is gonna bring the whole thing tumbling down?” I yelled back, pushing the door open and stepping inside the somewhat well-presented office.

It was a modestly large room divided in half widthwise by a high brick wall that separated the workers from the travelers. Lining the wall were booths with barred windows behind which a few stallions and a couple of mares sat dully going through the travel documents and merchant papers of the ponies in front of them. Several others were already waiting in line behind them looking dusty, dehydrated and pissed off they had to stand there or risk their place in line. There were chairs provided for any who walked in but to do so was as good as saying, 'Yeah no, I'm totally not in line.' It was like the Department of Vehicles, the most boring place on earth, had risen from the ashes as bland and slow-paced as ever before. There were many things about the old world that never really seemed to change even with time.

The doldrum of the office though was quickly undercut from the angry yelling of a well-armored mare who stood before one of the stallions in the booth. Needless to say he looked back at her with the look of a guy annoyed and on the edge of an angry outburst. If it got any louder, the guards would be called in and this whole process was about to take a hell of a lot longer than it needed to.

“What do you mean you can’t help me?! I’ve been working on this investigation for days and I don’t intend on stopping now because you refuse to spare information about where this guy went!”

I moved closer, trying not to cut in line as the merchants were sure to throw a fit if I usurped their place in line that they had probably been standing in for an ungodly amount of time. She was a cobalt blue mare with a curving black mane that had a single large streak of lilac running through it that nestled over a charcoal grey duster similar to mine; the only thing it was really missing was length in the tails and the reinforced shoulders, back and forearms. Strapped on over and beneath her duster was a lovely black painted M-CAT Model 4, a modular platform that unlike the Model 3s was not an all-in-one suit of Kevyarn and plate ceramics and could be worn with other clothing for similar levels of protection. Around her waist was a large set of saddlebags with an integrated holster for a Rimmingson pump-action shotgun and, in one of the most bizarre choices for a weapon I had ever seen, a large power drill sat in a custom holster on her back left leg. It was clearly industrial-grade by its yellow and black color and lacked a power cord rather using a Spark-Pack plugged into a slot on the side of the housing for power. Several black smoke grenades dangled from her saddlebags like military-themed talismans and a large black and lilac tail protruded from under her coat curling gently behind her. She was no Hitmare I had ever met but she certainly had the air of one about her. Maybe one of the Gung-ho Guns?

“I told you before, Ma’am…” The stallion sighed, pushing some papers back towards her with a bit of sass in both his tone and actions. “I can’t just give out info on the ponies who pass through here willy-nilly to the first mare who comes up asking for it. If I did that then I’d lose my job and I worked my ass off to get here.”

“He is one of your main sources of income! He has your paycheck for fuck’s sake! I don’t mean him any harm, I just need to fucking find him ASAP so I can fulfill my fucking contract with his caravan.” She almost snarled at him, jabbing the papers he had given back to her right in his face with her violet magic which he simply bat away with a hoof like it were a nagging fly.

“Get out of line would ya? There’s people here who actually have business to do with me, Mercenary.” He sneered, looking over her towards the next pony in line. “Next!”

“Fine, you’ll be looking for a new job once your paycheck gradually loses its value in the open market asshole…” She growled, yanking her papers back and stuffing them in her bags before stomping away looking murderous.

So she was the one the guy at the gate had mentioned earlier. It was an odd coincidence that we both arrived here looking for missing merchants, something that was rather rare in such protected territory. Was a longshot that we were looking for the same guy but...it was worth a shot to at least ask her if our missing merchant happened to be the same pony. At the very least, I was interested in maybe complimenting her on her choice in gear and style. (Even if the power drill was...not my first choice for a close-quarters weapon.)

“Hey, you looking for a merchant too?” I asked holding up a hoof to stop her as she got closer, a distinct if subtle bulge under her left armpit cueing me in that she had something in a shoulder holster hidden under her duster. As a Unicorn she would undoubtedly be twitchy on the telekinetic quick-draw...she was smart and knew this business well, that much was obvious.

“Unless it’s about Dragons, then no.” She replied with an irritated sigh, looking over her shoulder towards the stallion with disgust.

“Actually we are looking for a Dragon merchant.” I replied, my luck pulling us through yet another hoop on the road to victory. “Is his name Scaly Fang? There isn’t many Dragon merchants in Equestria.”

“Mhm, but I’m more concerned about what you want with him.” She said pointedly, jabbing a hoof at me and by extension Melody and Gold who stood slightly behind me in silence.

“Well if you can’t tell by the shitty tailoring job I’ve done on his coat, Gold here needs a good leather duster to match his old Ranger armor we've been refurbishing for him. Scaly has the best selection of products because he actually knows how to treat the leather so it self-repairs. Saves you a lot of money in the long term let me tell you.” I said with a short laugh to try and ease the tension, holding up the sleeve of my duster showing off the untorn leather that wasn’t covered by a bracer or pauldron. "That, and he's a friend of mine of sixty-plus years so I'd say I have a right to be worried about his wellbeing since he left a week ago and hasn't come back on time. We need his services for a multitude of products."

“Then I suppose I can stop for a moment… what do you want to know? The investigation hasn’t progressed much past from what my Bounty provided me, and ponies either refuse or don’t know what happened.” She grumbled, pulling out the papers from earlier out of her bags and floating them over to me.

I knew from the red-inked stamp of an eye that this was a legit Bounty signed off on by the Syndicate which was a bonus as packages like this tended to have all available intel on the target. A quick glance over the cover page allayed my fears that she was out here for a Dead-or-Alive job but was just as vested in the survival of the target. Inside the intel packet was the name, general description and last confirmed position of Scaly with the stipulation that the 600-cap Bounty would only be paid upon confirmation of his safe return to New Pegasus. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t give the name of the person who posted the Bounty but it included a rough map of the area. Map print-outs like these were ours to do with as we wished and I observed hers was heavily marked with a red line going back and forth across the greater New Pegasus area. This girl had been on this guy’s trail for days now it seemed and covered everything South of the toll station with much of NER territory currently unchecked. Couldn't be said she hadn't put a lot of work in already so she could prove a short-term ally as long as our interests coincided. Didn't seem all that friendly however...

“Hmmm…” I hummed, looking over her map though noticing she was staring intensely at my helmet as if trying to figure out how big of a bullet she needed to bust her way into my skull. “Last I heard from some fellow merchants who work nearby him, he was headed to Shady Sands with a shipment of leather and in particular some black hides he was proud of. Looks like you’ve been from here to New Pegasus to Appleloosa and back again. If we'd bumped into each other sooner I might have saved ya a lot of walking.”

“Well good for you; my guess? Idiot’s already dead along with his whole caravan. But...if I want to get paid, I’d need to at least get his stupid head or something of his as evidence. They want him alive at all costs but if he's dead, he's fucking dead. No point in wasting my time or they'd have the Syndicate's Shadow Brokers hounding their nightmares.” She said matter-of-factly, taking back her papers and sighing. “Why couldn’t he have just traveled in a straight fucking line?”

“Well, far as I know he did. The E-90 is a long ass road so there's a lot of ground to cover assuming he stuck just to the asphalt. If he went off road well...that'll be a whole other ballgame and we can cross that bridge when we get to it. We should get going then before we lose any more daylight...it’s only a day’s trot to Shady Sands from here if we keep the pace.”

"We?" She asked shortly, looking incredulously at the ground.

"Well if you wanna join our group then go right ahead." I replied, looking between her and the door out. "Only makes sense since we have the same end goal in mind. In the event we come across Raiders or something, it's always best to have numbers and equipment of which I have both."

She looked at me with a pretty pair of cyan eyes that bespoke years of hardship and grim experience and said, “Fucking hate working in teams... But...you’re my best bet of getting paid. That being said, it's still unlikely I get the full price for this guy anyway. Fine...let’s go.”

We left the office behind and swung around to the toll booth on the left side of the road, the Griffin running the booth waving a lazy talon our direction. I wasn’t used to seeing Griffins in the ranks of the NER but it wasn’t entirely out of the question as good soldiers were always needed, no matter what their genetics dictated they were. Contrary to popular belief, not every Griffin was part of the Talons like so many people assumed. There were actually a scattered selection of small cloud and land based Griffin communities throughout the Wasteland who continued to call Equestria home even though Griffinstone was not impossibly far away. That being said, it was incredibly rare to be allowed into one of these communities as their anti-outsider mentality all Griffins were known for had yet to die out even today. Unless you spoke like them, fought like them and acted as tough and haughty as them, they wouldn’t consider you tough enough to set hoof in their nests or join their groups. To see a pony in the armor of the Talons was a pony to be feared because if a predator species sees them as an equal, they will be merciless and cruel.

“Four of ya?” He said in a bored tone, a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes from view. “Alright, twenty-five caps per. Let's not take too long, alright? I've got shit to do here.”

“Alright, I’ll pay for all of us then.” I said, pulling out a bag of bits and starting the tedious process of counting out one-hundred individual caps. "Gimmie just a sec and we'll be outta your feathers."

The unnamed Merc looked at me with curiosity but didn’t oppose my generosity and silently observed as I dropped a bag of 100 into the open bottom of his booth window. Seeing me count them out in real-time, he didn't even bother to drop the contents onto the table and double check for himself; rather he glanced over the four of us, jotted down a quick entry in the log and waved to the next gate up to open. We began to move followed slightly from behind by the Merc as the gate was raised similar to the first and the way towards Shady Sands was opened up to us. Gold and Melody had already begun talking about what they wanted to do once we got there despite knowing anything about it while the Merc remained in silence. Not wanting to ruin their aspirations and conversation, I hung back and trotted beside her hoping to get a friendly conversation to pass the time. I didn't expect much but...if my reputation still had meaning, odds are I could get her talking about something we could relate on. Didn't have to be anything grand but anything was something against the long, boring walk ahead of us.

“Hey there.” I said in an upbeat tone, my voice sounding a bit less than happy through the mic. “So...what’s your name? Don’t think I got it before now and I kinda like knowing who I'm gonna be drawing weapons with.”

“Cypher.” She said shortly, not looking towards me but keeping her eyes focused on the road ahead. I could already tell that this conversation was going to go absolutely nowhere and I'd be left alone with my thoughts again.

“Cypher? That’s a pretty sweet name.” I said continuing my efforts to goad her into talking more. “You work with computers then or something? Not a common name these days so you've gotta have some experience with tech.”

“I go diving into Pre-War facilities all the time, yes.” She said in the same stony tone as before. "What's it to you?"

“Oh? Sweet.” I laughed with a bit of relief, happy to have found something we shared at least a bit in common. “I do too every now and again. Stables are a personal favorite not gonna lie, but they’re hard to find and usually impossible to open. StableTec knew how to make damn good doors, that's for sure.”

“You seriously have a favorite death wish?” She asked me incredulously, finally looking towards me as if I were suicidal, crazy or both.

“Eh, they’re not that dangerous.” I replied, shrugging my shoulders as best I could while walking. “Not as dangerous as say poking your head around downtown Manehattan or going anywhere near Stalliongrad. Then again, they could have gotten a bit better over the last couple decades since I've been out East. Doubt it, but still...”

“I’d rather stay clear of Pre-War places. It’s just too dangerous more often than not. But, sometimes my job requires me to do so and at that point, I have no choice.” She sighed, looking back ahead and blinking slowly as if trying to ward off sleep. "It is a crowded market for Mercs in this region, I can't afford to be picky about which Bounties I take."

“Yeah, you do have a point.” I laughed trying to keep the mood light and break the ice a bit between us. “But you can’t deny anything Pre-War is a blast when you’re feeling particularly dangerous right? I mean, they’ve got the best shit and the best fights save for Raider dens and all that bullshit in Filly. Can net yourself a healthy sum of caps from just the loot alone sometimes. Made more money on some Contracts selling the shit I found than from neutralizing the target.”

“Yeah… unless that ‘best shit’ is hidden behind a still functional StableTec turret defense system.” She mumbled. “Gods, do you ever shut up? Is this what you Hitmares really do all day?”

I snorted a bit in both amusement and annoyance. Being deep enough in the Syndicate's ranks to get official notary from them would explain why she knew me on sight. However as a Merc, I outranked her by two full degrees and if she acted like this around one of the Syndicate bars around New Pegasus, she would have gotten bitchslapped for insulting her superior. Though I had to admit it was nice to be recognized by someone in the network and not have to immediately be on the look out for their betrayal. If she was rubber-stamped for this mission by the Syndicate, it was her only open job as they didn't allow for more than one job per operative to keep some for the less experienced.

“Ever since those two came into my life?” I asked rhetorically, gesturing to the two foals having a laugh over a billboard of Pinkie Pie and her piercing gaze watching on forever. “Nope. I forgot how nice it is to have somepony to talk to when you’re on a long trip. Really passes the time better than the radio does. Two-hundred years of the same fucking music gets old real quick and I take silence over those tired old tracks any time.”

“Mhm. Still, are you gonna explain to me why the foals are in front of us and not the opposite?”

I gestured to the open desert plains surrounding us with a few rolling bluffs and cacti to break up the monotonous horizon. There was nothing to be seen for miles around, even with my visor's optics and E.F.S pumped to their max. Aside from any soldier patrols and fellow travelers on the roadway, we were entirely alone and I was ok with their shorter legs setting the pace for the group.

“We’re in NER territory, we’re taller and any threats are gonna come from either the front where we can see them or from behind. If they were behind us then we wouldn’t be able to defend them in time. Besides, you’re wearing the M-CAT Model-4b for crying out loud! That model was designed for quick-twitch movements.” I said, slapping her on the back which clunked loudly as my hoof hit the thick armored backplate that was hidden under her duster. “We’re in the best possible location to ensure their protection. Long as we both keep our heads on a swivel.”

“Humph, you make a good point.” She sighed, looking over her shoulder at the road behind us. “Let’s hope we switch out quickly when the terrain changes.”

“Have you even been this far North…?” I asked her seriously. “It’s nothing but this shit until you hit the lowlands leading up to the Crystal Mountains where the grass and trees still have color.”

“Hell no, I’m not even from here and I fucking hate the desert.”

“So where ya from then, Cy?” I asked, using a nickname version of her name to test the waters of our new relationship.

“You did not just call me that.” She growled, glaring at me with an angry snarl.

“So what if I did? What you gonna do about it?”

“We are not close enough for you to say that.” She sighed with a heavy dose of venom in her voice.

“Suit yourself.” I said as I rolled my eyes. "I'm a fuckin' hoot to be around."

“Whatever you say...”

We fell into silence after that, my opinion of her more than a little rocky as I wanted to get to know her better but I also wanted to punch her in the gut for being a bitch. I at least was being friendly and engaging trying to show we weren’t enemies but she wasn’t taking the bait. Most in the business tended to be this way which was part of the reason I didn't make friends with my colleagues. Most either drank, smoked or dosed up too much for my comfort level and the rest either died too early in the game or were just outright psychopaths.

The miles stretched out endlessly as we slowly made our way down the thirty-miles of road leading towards Shady Sands. Gold had to stop more than once to rest his legs and steal ever greater gulps of lemonade from my canteen until it was entirely empty and I had to fill it up again using his own water that he had packed for the trip. Melody was proving surprisingly athletic for her build and only had to pause to rest a third of the amount of times Gold begged for a break. Cypher however never said another word; stopping with us when we stopped but never once asking for a break of her own accord. As if to add another layer of ‘fuck off’ to her stony silence, she had pulled a grey gasmask from her saddlebags and onto her face effectively hiding from sight. I had to wonder what exactly she used it for given it would be ineffective in a RadZone and a simple bandana tied over the muzzle was sufficient for a trip through the desert.

Thanks to Gold, by the time the sun was waning in the sky turning everything a golden amber color, we were still ten-miles outside Shady Sands and it was quickly getting dark. Even though we were in NER territory, I didn’t trust the area enough to risk a midnight journey and I didn’t think Gold nor Melody were up for a full night’s march. Cy was another question but I was willing to bet she would’ve been fine to continue on till we hit the city and found a place to stay. Had I traveled alone, that very well would have been the case for me as well as thirty-miles in a day was an extended trot for me.

“Alright, looks like it's another night of camping in the open everypony.” I said with a strained sigh as I sat down and stretched out; Gold melodramatically sprawled out on his back on the asphalt and panting like a dog. “Take your time to rest up because we gotta find a place to stay for the night that’s at least easily defendable.”

“Is that really necessary?” Cy asked with a voice muffled by her mask. “It’s just ten-miles.”

“You’re not a Ghoul colt who’s eternally out of shape…” I sighed, helping Gold to his hooves and giving him my canteen again. “You really need to get your own one of these damn things, you know?”

He pulled off his helmet once again, his face pouring sweat despite the temperature-controlled interior of the helmet and Cy seemed to finally take notice that he was a Ghoul. Every time we had stopped previously she always chose to stand ahead of us staring off into the desert waiting for us to finish up and get going again. About as detached as could be.

“I…take that back.” She said quietly, turning away to change the subject and squint into the darkening Wasteland. “I can’t see much of anything in this light…if we choose to make camp off the beaten path, we will be wandering blind.”

“Well thankfully I can see in this light so give me a sec. Keep an eye on them, I'll go put my NVF to good use.” I said, standing up and walking off to the crest of one of the bluffs on the side of the road, the world brightening up with a soft red light as I turned on my low-light optics with a flick of my thoughts.

The area surrounding us was completely barren. Nothing but hills, cacti, some scattered sagebrush and roving tumbleweeds. The distant glow of New Pegasus could still be seen behind us though not nearly close enough to make out the distant form of the Lucky 28. So far, the only option I could see was an isolated hilltop not too far off that had a relatively unobscured view of the surrounding area. At the very least we could see the world around us and only one of us would have to stand guard to be effective. Especially when it was my turn to take a watch.

“Alright, there’s a little hill like a quarter mile that way.” I said, gesturing my hoof in the general direction of the hill. “Should be easy to get to and only take less than fifteen clicks. As good of a campsite as we could ask for out here.”

“I understand green night-vision goggles but…why red?” Cypher asked me, pointing right at my helmet and completely ignoring what I had just said.

“Oh...red because it looks dope and it sustains basic Mark-1 night vision better than any other color despite green being the preferred color. Yeah, I know we can see more shades of green than any other color but green isn’t as intimidating. I mean, they did make these helmets with green lenses but you only saw those in the Zulu Campaign. Anywho, let’s get moving. The sooner we get there, the sooner you can pass out and the sooner I can go and take a piss.”

Melody giggled softly and stood back up before levitating Gold’s helmet back onto his head and passing me my nearly empty canteen. After that we were back on our way, though this time off the road and meandering through the shifting sands that couldn’t make up its mind if it were a thick layer or a thin layer over the dry caked earth beneath. The hill came up quickly and I found it was indeed a rather secure spot given the location and everyone began to undo their saddlebags. The three of us unpacked sleeping pads that Cogsworth had been so kind as to give Gold and Melody so they wouldn’t have to sleep on the ground itself. I of course had the continued luxury of one of the old M.O.P patented survival sleeping bag.

Cy unpacked a simple sleeping mat made of blankets and began snapping off the dried up branches of the few trees that surrounded the hill, tossing them into a pile in preparation to start a campfire. She was quick and meticulous in her search making sure to gather both kindling and thicker logs using a knife and her power drill to cut the trees into larger chunks. Once she was ready she pulled out of her bag one of the most basic staples of wilderness survival aside from the knife and duct tape: flint and steel. Scraping the steel over the flint, a shower of magnesium sparks danced between the kindling and into the chunks of tumbleweed she had placed at the very center of her pile of twigs. With a very heavy breaths, the smoldering weeds turned into a small flame and then into a small blaze as the larger and larger sticks caught fire. Soon, a modestly-sized campfire roared with flickering light in the center of our small camp, Gold and Melody both staring with awe at the skill of our traveling guest. It was charming to see them so enthralled by such a simple tool.

“How did you do that…?” Melody asked with awe as she gazed into the flickering flames, the night air slowly growing chill.

“You learn a few tricks when you travel around.” She said with what could have been a hint of pride, finally peeling off her gasmask and setting it on the ground near her saddlebags which she repurposed as a makeshift pillow.

“That you do.” I agreed, nodding to the fire with satisfaction. “But there’s other skills you need to learn too, like cooking for example. A bit of know-how goes a long way.”

“Wasteland cooking does the job just fine.” She said flatly, pulling out some raw ingredients from her bags like Mutfruit and pine nuts. "Doesn't need to be fancy to be filling."

“No, but a bit of fancy never hurt anypony.” I retorted, pulling out of my bag a few cans of vegetables, some dried Brahmin jerky, seasonings and a portable frying pan. “Eat well while on the trail and you’ll never fight hungry. Dunno about you, but the only thing worse than a gunshot in my opinion is walking on an empty stomach.”

“Who said you can’t go with a diplomatic solution? I usually prefer to get out of situations with no holes in my duster if at all possible.”

“Oh sure, like the mare with a shotgun, revolver and fucking power drill doesn't have to get up close and personal to do her job. Never heard of a diplomat's toolkit including that shit; diplomacy is almost never an option in this line of work and you should know it as well as I do."

"Humph...I don't have to explain anything to you..."

She grunted as she dug through her second saddlebag and pulled out a bottle of white wine, setting it beside her spread of nuts and fruit. Without a pan, the only thing she could conceivably do was have a drink as she nibbled on her un-mixed trail mix.

“Wine? Seriously? What are you gonna do, soak your nuts in alcohol?”

Melody and Gold both burst out laughing and looked towards Cy as if challenging her to up the ante against me. This was exactly like high school all over again. Only difference was this bully had firearms and wasn't all that friendly to begin with.

“More like your face when I break this bottle over your helmet.” She grunted, flipping the bottle over neck down as if to throw it in my direction.

“And what, make me smell like one of those whores from the Ultra-Deluxe Casino? No thanks. I don’t need to smell like a drunk bitch to get a date around here. That shit is better off used as a firebomb.”

“That’s where our similarities split,” She said flatly, turning the bottle back around. “I’m not one for relationships. And you’re not worth spilling a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc 2037 over. And no, no wine will ever be wasted as a firebomb as long as I have a say in it.”

“Wait, that’s a Blanc?” I asked, knowing just a little about fancy white wines thanks to mom’s lifelong friendship with them. “My mom loved that vintage.”

“You trying to get a sip of my bottle?” She asked incredulously. “Not gonna work. I paid 450 caps for this and I ain’t gonna waste it on you.”

“Oh please…” I sighed, settling back and starting to prepare my food. “Wine is for pussies. Even my mom knew that which was why she kept hard stuff in the upper cupboard. Not that I drink any of that shit anyway.”

“So, your mom loved being a pussy? Make some sense in that, girl.”

“Oh that’s rich.” I growled. “My mom was a better mare than you’ll ever fucking be. She only drank wine because it looked better to others than her other choice of Firestorm Whiskey.”

“Better mare than I’ll ever be, eh?” She smirked, pulling the cork from the bottle with her teeth like a sorority girl. “I suppose that’s true...”

“My mom was a dentist. A respectable mare who even worked with the Ministry Mares themselves once upon a time.” I boasted, getting really worked up over this playground level of taunting. “How about you huh? What did your mom do?”

“Apart from abandoning me in the middle of the road? Nah, nothing else.”

“See? Exactly.” I huffed, putting my pan over the fire and frying up the jerky a bit with some diced tatos, garlic salt, water and a dash of pepper. "Since my mom was a fucking hero compared to yours, don't you fucking dare bring her up like that ever again. Contract or no I ain't attached to you at all and I've no problem leaving your ass behind to search for Scaly on your own."

“Well, luckily I never grew attached to her, heck, I don’t even know her, and I have no regrets.” She said flatly, taking a small sip from her bottle and licking her lips. "Attachment is a dangerous thing."

“So you saying that me growing attached to my mom was a mistake?” I challenged, digging through my bags searching for dried Razorgrain rice to boil up to go with the meal.

“What? Pfft, no, you had ponies to rely on, didn’t you? Me? I’m a fully grown, entirely independent mare and I work for myself as I see fit.” She laughed bitterly, taking another deeper drink and eating her pine nuts raw. “No attachments, no worries, no painful goodbyes. Couldn't ask for a better deal.”

Her words hit me square in the chest like a punch. No attachments, no worries...no painful goodbyes. That was exactly the kind of mare I was not too long ago. The mare I had turned into after I realized life was a continuous nightmare of death, pain and radiation. Indeed goodbyes were the worst part of living in this world…

“I was like you too you know…” I said after a long pause, staring at my small pot of water beginning to boil over the coals and causing them to hiss and steam. “That’s the kind of attitude that keeps you alive...but not the one that lets you live life to the fullest. There is a difference I have learned.”

“Survival of the fittest, that’s all it matters to me. If I am alive and they are dead at the end of the day, I am content.”

I looked towards Melody and Gold who looked on in hushed silence, anxious to see if she and I were to come to blows and decided to swallow my hurt pride. Cy was just a mare trying to make it in this world the best way she knew how. In the end she was just following the Wasteland lifestyle like anyone else was, including myself. The only real change for me was that I was now caring for two others along with my own ass which complicated matters but...the benefits were outweighing the drawbacks so far. Survival of the fittest, yes...but that doesn't always imply some sort of lone-survivor lifestyle.

“I understand.” I said quietly as I drained the water off and into an empty bottle to reuse later for this same purpose. “But I’m not looking to survive anymore. I want to live. Surely you know the difference.”

“Sure, but can I actually live without the fear of being abandoned again? Of losing all those I cared about? Or believing they care about me, only to find out they don’t?” She asked me sharply, glancing at Melody and Gold. "No. I think not."

“You never really know if you don’t try…” I replied slowly. “You’re going to end up losing something sometime along the road since life requires immense sacrifice and...it’s worth it to trust in someone’s ability to care for you as long as you know who to trust.”

“I had ponies caring about me, in the most unexpected of places. I lost them all!” She exclaimed, slamming her bottle back into her bag angrily.

“Join the club bitch.” I sighed, spreading my hooves and gesturing to the entire world around us at large. “I lost my mom, my friends, my family, my lover, my world and my reason for existing. What have you lost huh? What could you have possibly lost that can compete with that? Huh?”

“Everypony I cared about, and I’m making sure I don’t lose anypony further by not growing attached to somepony else.” She said bluntly, glowering towards the two foals like their mere presence would invite challenge.

“Well then, you and I have nothing left to say to each other then do we?” I asked slowly, the crackling sound of the fire the only other sound to puncture the tense silence gripping us in that place in time.

“I was abandoned since birth, took in by caravans, lost them, scavenged alone, I then grew attached to ponies I deemed wrong, they all died and I then joined ponies who I thought truly cared for me, but truth is, they were just using me. Nothing more, everything less.”

“Well...I hope you come around…” Melody finally said, looking at her from her sleeping bag with gleaming, tear filled eyes. “B-because I can’t think of living in this shithole of a world alone…”

“S-same…” Gold whimpered. “T-too big...t-too scary…”

“I’ve been living alone for years already, I don’t need a fucking lecture from a bunch of shitbrained kids.” She sighed, laying back in her sleeping bag and turning away from all of us.

“Well...fuck you too, lady!” Melody huffed before climbing out of her bag and joining me for our rather tasty dinner of meat, rice and canned onions with diced mushrooms and tato sauce.

We ate our meal in silence, Melody only pausing to comment on how good it was before they were stuffed and turned in for the night. By the way she was turned away and laying down, I assumed Cy had left me with the first watch of the night. After I pulled my AMR out and set it up to where I could quickly snatch it up, I set an alarm on my PipBuck to go off in roughly six-hours so then I could turn over the watch to Cy and get some sleep of my own. As the night wore on, the fire burned down and went out leaving the area dark, dismal and cold. Not willing to leave the camp to gather firewood, I walked towards Cy to wake her up and ask her nicely to go find some more wood for the fire, at the very least for the kid’s sakes.

“Hey...Cy? You mind getting some more wood…?” I asked quietly hoping she wouldn’t spring awake and try to kill me.

“Fire’s already out...?” She mumbled rolling over slightly to see the barely glowing cinders amongst the ash.

“Yeah well, its been about four-hours since you started it and none of us have tossed any more wood onto it since then. I’d leave but I’m on watch.” I replied, wanting to make her at least somewhat useful if she were to stay with us.

“Alright, I’ll go get some wood, if that’s what you want, and I’ll take the next watch too.” She sighed, rolling up and onto her hooves begrudgingly.

“Thank you.” I said simply, taking up my seat again and looking out over the empty desert expanse without really looking, my mind deep in thought over what she had said earlier.

She wandered off for some time, the sound of breaking wood and snapping branches punctuating the otherwise silent air regularly until she came back, a large bundle of variously sized branches and logs floating in her sparkling violet magic. She set about again, using the bright LED on my helmet, setting all the twigs and kindling up in the firepit before looking around for something.

“What ya looking for…?” I asked, following her movement around with my headlamp.

“Flint and steel’s missing.” She muttered, digging through her bags and duster pockets before yanking my head closer with magic and checking again, this time more furiously.

“Ow! Sheesh! Well, last time I saw it was when you last used it so...I dunno where you keep stuff like that.” I said sheepishly, looking around with my eyes in vain for the glint of steel anywhere in the dirt.

“Mhm, hope your fuckin' kids didn’t go and try to play with it.”

“Shut up before I shut you up.” I bristled. “They’re more than old enough to know better. And after being such a bitch to them do you really think they’d wanna touch your shit?”

“Play? No, steal? Maybe. But still, they haven’t tried to replicate what I did to make the fire, have they?”

“You would have seen the sparks just like I would have.”

We glared at each other for a solid minute before she said, “Right, I might’ve just lost it. Happy?”

“No, not really.” I sighed, looking at the dull pile of wood. “I don’t carry it because I usually have my zippo with me...annnnnd I just remembered I left that on Cogsworth’s table because Chocolate wanted to smoke a cigar. Fuck me.”

“We’re lost causes.” She said with a short bitter laugh. “What are we gonna do, use a bullet to make a fire? Sounds safe.”

Fire. Who the fuck had just been using fire? And then it dawned on me. I had a little trinket still left over from Velvet that I specifically didn’t sell and now I remembered why.

“Actually I’ll do you one better.” I grinned, pulling out of my bandolier the large golden ring set with the fiery red/orange gem that glowed in the darkness like an ember. “Ever seen one of these?”

“No. Should I have?” She asked with a bored sigh. "Don't have time for stupid jewelry, leave that to girls who care."

“I’d be surprised if you had. This is an Inferno Ring. An arcane relic of the War that changed combat magic forever.” I said proudly, slipping the warm ring onto my horn and feeling my head get wrapped as if by a giant invisible halo of warm flame.

“...Well, what are you waiting for?” She asked as if expecting some great magic show.

“It’s not so damn easy, calm your teats girl…” I snapped, focusing my magic through my horn and into the gem hoping I remembered enough basic Ring training to spark a flame. I'd only passed Combat Spellweaving because the Colonel had fucked with the final report to give me a passing grade...

A small, rather pathetic flame erupted onto my horn just above the Ring and flickered in the night air like a little candle atop my head. With the 'pilot light' on and the Ring protecting my hair from the heat, all I had to do now was try to focus my thoughts and concentrate on making a fireball. Pyromancies required a strong, fiery will and a concentrated effort to perform being one of those magics that is heavily affected by the caster's emotions. Anger was a potent fuel to tap into but extremely unwieldy by all but the most self-controlled as it easily sparks out of control. The only other emotion that could properly enhance Pyromancy was passion, an emotion that, like anger, is not easily controlled but much easier to focus. Passion could be anything from happiness to hunger to even sex as long as the emotional response was overwhelmingly strong. While I had plenty of anger to tap into, I finally had a passion for life that exceeded my centuries' long bout of anger. I was a mother now.

With the memory of my wonderful, relaxing bath with Melody fresh in my mind, I channeled my passion into my horn as if I were channeling it into an art project and willed into existence a much larger, brighter flame atop my head. A large ball of fire shot out of the pyre in the direction my eyes were looking (thankfully away from everyone and out into the open desert) which exploded with a loud crack as it hit the ground. A small cactus nearby caught fire in the explosion but quickly smoldered into nonexistence from the water within the plant. I had officially cast my first spell that wasn't telekinesis! If only that snooty fucking M.O.A.S instructor bitch could see me now and give me a legitimate passing grade for that course...

“Whoa there, let’s not try that again…” I laughed to myself, shoving my horn into the pile of branches and holding my breath as if trying to force more flame through my skull and into my horn.

The pile almost immediately ignited and I yanked my head away before my hair caught fire, the flame on my horn going out as I lost focus on the flow of magic and stared at my handiwork. I hadn’t exactly performed any great Pyromancy spells or even a mediocre one, but I had started a campfire without help. It was definitely something at least.

“...I’m surprised you didn’t wake up your kids. Still, I’m impressed.” She said quietly, sitting down before the roaring fire with a small, amused smile. "I have never seen anything like this before."

“Heh...thanks.” I replied, sitting down on the other side of the fire. "It's something the Ministry of Arcane Science brewed up in the last five years of the War. Around the world small Nexus Crystals are found in magically charged environments that imbue them with an alternative type of arcane energy which can then be used to alter normal Unicorn magic and enhance it. This is an Inferno Gem, more than likely from somewhere in the Ember Mountains near the Badlands since that's where I remember hearing about some mines for them. Let's anypony with some talent cast Pyromancies."

“It’s not like I’ll be going out casting a Magma Pyromancy anytime soon though. I’d need a Tome for that first, plus a Magma Ring to even have a chance at performing any of those spells. There were a few Magma Pyromancers back in the day...they were something to behold, let me tell you. Old Dragon fire magic in the hooves of ponies...”

“Well, I learn something new everyday. Though for the rest...I’m just gonna pretend I understood what you said.” She said, pulling her bottle back out and nursing it like a child.

“Well...it’s a little more than complicated.” I explained, pulling the ring off my horn and holding it in my hoof, looking at the gently glowing Gem cut in the shape of a fanciful Gothic flame set in gold. “Inferno Gems like the one in this Ring are considered high-value weapons and were only given to designated Unicorns trained in advanced spellwork. I only got training because I was a Unicorn and they wanted all the back-ups they could get on standby."

“Fire isn’t the most developed uh, manipulation system, for lack of a better term, right? The Zebras couldn’t have focused on the same type of magic too?”

“I’m….not sure what you mean.” I replied, looking up from the Ring at her.

“You folks in the Pre-War world. You guys couldn’t have only cared about fire manipulation, right? You seem to ignore all of these other types of magic… like that ‘Frostbite’ or plain Thunder, were they not as developed?” She asked, looking at me with keen interest.

“Well if you didn’t interrupt then maybe I could have gotten to those in due course.” I sighed. “Electromancies and Frostbite Magics are just as fully fleshed out as Pyromancies. You need training and either a Thunder Ring or a Frostbite Ring to perform them but the fundamentals are the same. And before you ask why didn’t they develop things like air and earth Gems, I don’t know if they did or didn't. Do I look like I worked for the Ministry of Arcane Science?”

“No, but somepony like you could keep a lot of secrets.” She said with a hint of suspicion, taking another sip of her wine and a mouthful of pine nuts.

“Sure but why would I? It’s not like I’m some politician or warlord. I’m just a girl living for the moment and enjoying life while I still can. I know shit like this because I was there when it was introduced. Not hardly enough to explain the complex science behind them but enough to give you a basic idea how all this bullshit works.”

“ I understand, but I’d rather be away from you when some greedy person finds out you have valuable info about how these artifacts work. Most of us feel smart just because we know of its existence.” She said simply, looking into the crackling fire with a blank expression.

“Well fine, if you had the choice to use fire, electricity or ice magic, which would you choose?” I asked since this seemed to be the only thing we could at least somewhat discuss as reasonable adults without it turning into a dick-measuring contest like earlier.

She sat in silence for a little over a minute before she responded, “Ice, it lets you prepare and plan things in advance, it’s the best choice for a tactical approach in my opinion.”

“Ah. That unfortunately was the artform I saw the least in the Badlands due to the lack of moisture. It was really popular on the Eastern Front though since that was in Trottingham, northeastern Equestria and Griffinstone. Actually, speaking of these Frostbite Magics originated in the Duchy of Crystal. Makes sense honestly. I place that’s surrounded by a frozen landscape is bound to develop ice magic.”

“Disappointing...what about the Thunder you mentioned? Where were these used?”

“Not sure.” I replied, stuffing my mouth with food before continuing. “Rumor I heard was they came outta Cloudsdale back in the day but I've never seen a Thunder Gem. Only heard about 'em in that training course as a throwaway mention by the instructor. Oh fuck what was his name...?”

“So...how common is something like this Ring in the Wasteland?” She asked quietly just loud enough to be heard over the campfire. "Should I expect to come across this sorta thing?"

“From my experience, no.” I said, slipping the Ring back onto my horn and trying to pull a little ball of flame from the fire and into my hooves so I could try to hone my control over it. “This is the first Inferno Ring I’ve seen in decades and the first to actually be used by a Unicorn who’s been trained in Pyromancies. Any Unicorn who is talented in combat magic is gonna use the standard collection of combat spells developed by the M.O.A.S back in the day. You know, shit like Magic Dart, Arcane Spear and all that. This chick had a lot more training than most Unis out there today.”

“ Who’s this Unicorn anyway? Pretty skilled fellow as you said yourself.” She asked slowly, looking up from the fire back to me with a small amused smirk as a ball of flame no bigger than a golf ball floated between my hooves.

“A Hitmare by the name of Black Velvet. I bet even you have heard of her.” I replied, bouncing the ball between my hooves in a game of catch with myself. “White mare, usually wore the Model-5 M-CAT? Nasty attitude with a passion for massacring?”

“Not on a personal level. Mercs don't tend to get to interact with Hitmares."

“Of course...well, I kicked her ass not even two days ago. First mare to use Pyromancies outside of the Dark Market I’ve seen in decades. Far as I know, she never went to the Market to learn from a Pyromaster so I’m not sure how she got her hooves on all of this. I hope I can find out because if anypony else out for the Contract on my head has access to these things it's gonna make my life a hell of a lot more dicey. These magics are fueled by emotion and out here, emotions are easily exacerbated by circumstance. If you think a Magma Pyromancer is a threat you’ve never met a Black Flame Pyromancer wielding a Dark Tome.”

“...Not gonna ask what that is, how did you kill her anyway? If she’s that good, how come you two fought without you getting scratched? As far as I can see, your armor is almost pristine.” She commented, gesturing to my beaten up but still sturdy armor.

“Well, it seemed that for all her resources she only knew Great Fireball. A powerful spell for sure but one that’s predictable and thus avoidable. We were in an honorary duel to the death as per Hitmare tradition so it meant blades, hooves and telekinesis only.”

“Honor amongst killers...what a joke..." She snorted, looking away with a sigh of disgust.

"Laugh it up then, see if I care." I responded. "Fact is I'm one of them and you fuckin' ain't so why don't you leave your snarky opinions to yourself. Hitmare is a title that carries all kinds of weight around these parts and with that honor is also a set of rules to follow just like being a Bounty Hunter or a fuckin' Merc like yourself. If an honorable duel is called, the rules of engagement have to be followed. If she had ignored the rules, I guarantee that she would have ended up killed by the Syndicate soon after her victory as an example to everyone in the network."

"Like I should trust the Lone Ranger?" She laughed bitterly, glaring at my helmet sitting beside me. "Save me the high-and-mighty speech, Crete. I know who you are."

"Then you'll know I'm not an enemy of the Syndicate and only am on the Board thanks to my former employer putting up too much money for the Shadow Brokers to sniff at. That and there's plenty in the network who'd love the chance to put a hole in my head and take my spot in the rankings. The moment Green is dead or something happens to nullify my Contract, I'll be right back on the books like nothing ever happened."

"Is that so? And what makes you think you're so special that you're gonna survive the price on your head? I looked at it myself just three days ago. Fifty-thousand big ones for the Lone Ranger. No Dead-or-Alive, no Tag-n-Bag. 50k dead."

"Only fifty? Oh common Green, I thought you'd take me more seriously than that..."

"You say that like it's not enough to retire early on in this day and age..."

"Never said it wasn't but it's hardly worth the danger to life and limb. There's a goddamned good reason I've been with the Syndicate as long as I have making the kind of money I have been: I'm fucking good at what I do."

"Well now you just sound like an arrogant piece of shit."

"Well excuse me for earning that right, sister. I know my skillset, my loadout and my tactical advantages like the back of my hoof and can wipe the floor with just about anyone sent after me. If I kill enough of them, the Syndicate will have no choice but to alter the terms for the price on my head."

"The hell are you talking about 'alter the terms'?"

I sighed, having another bite of cold leftovers to give myself a moment's pause.

"It's a rarely used clause in their operations book. If the target has killed a certain number of those sent after them then they are deemed too dangerous to be left on the Board. At that point they're exclusive targets for Hitmares only given the danger and sheer price involved which would limit the number of dumbasses on my tail. Got two under my belt already on the same day so if I were to hazard a guess, it'll probably take another four or five before my Contract is up for review for reclassification. At that point...well, that's my problem."

"I see...and you think you too will join that exclusive list?"

I looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and tiredness, the fork of food floating a few inches from my mouth as I took her in.

"You say you know me but I have my doubts on that if you are doubting that I'll make it that far." I retorted. "Unless something crazy unexpected happens that nopony can prepare for, I'll outlive all of you fucking Mercs a hundred times over."

"Humph...well I can't say you're lacking in confidence..."

“Thanks mom…” I chuckled, looking over at her as she stood up and took her place at the edge of camp to take the next watch.

“Don’t. This still doesn’t mean we’re good.” She grunted in my general direction killing any good vibes the conversation had. "Just because I'm on another Contract doesn't mean I have to fuckin' like you, Ranger."

“Yeah, well like Melody said...” I snorted rolling on my side and away from her angrily. “Go fuck yourself Cy. Just because you don’t want to be friends doesn’t entitle you to be a cunt. Keep this up and I’ll probably shoot you to shut that bitch ass attitude up. Sheesh…”

“You won’t have to make it clean, there’s no one waiting for me on the other side.” She retorted sharply with vitriol and venom. "And I've absolutely zero fucks left to give about it anyway."

“Oh trust me…” I sighed, closing my eyes and attempting to keep my telekinesis from putting six holes in her smug ass face. “I wouldn’t be clean about it. Bitch.”

Next Chapter: Chapter Thirty: The Fault in Our Sun Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 17 Minutes