Lights in the distance...that was something new for once. It took me a few minutes of staring ahead at it for it to click that I was getting near a town, a good sized one by how much it stood out on the dark desert expanse. The tracks never deviated or changed course leading me right into what had to be Paletree, a quiet town that sprang to life around a solitary saloon. It was one of the few isolated desert oasis towns that had the benefit of still being tapped into the old aquifer that used to feed into the long-dead Horsetail River that ran from the Great Lake in the Midwest about three-hundred miles North. It was one of the last bastions of civilization before the Valley of Death that had once been known as the Badlands and was the last decently sized town with a population of a couple hundred or so. Had only visited a dozen or so times in the past over the last fifty years while on the hunt for some asshole or another so with any luck they would remember me and not cause any undue delays or complications. It was a quaint town and had a lot going for it so it was actually a breath of fresh air to finally see it again after a few years.

The town, laying near what was left of the railway tracks that led from the Badlands to Manehatten, had taken the liberty of repurposing the many railcars that were in the area and turning them into a viable defensive perimeter. Unlike New Appleloosa to the North, their abundance of old railway equipment was more limited and so the assorted houses and businesses inside were primarily made from the same normal hodgepodge of materials seen across the Wastes. The closer I got, the more of the high defensive wall came into detail until I could see the patrolling guards wandering across the top of the railcars without the need of my helmet's optics. Each was armed with a rifle of some sort, either a salvaged service rifle or one of the many civilian scoped hunting rifles for the sniper on a budget and armor was rather rudimentary. By and large it was the light M-CAP Model 4As which only granted limited protections to the torso, shoulders and flanks supplemented by the usual Wasteland metal armor made from welded steel and leather scraps. The two guards posted by the front gate, which was really just a ramp up and through a freight car's double doors, were decked out in Model 3s and wielding respectable G3 assault rifles with pump-action shotguns on their backs. All in all, a respectably defended town for being independent of any larger faction which was something I deeply respected.

"Now hold up right there you!" Called out one of the gate guards as soon as I stepped into the floodlights illuminating the area in front of the gate. "Another fuckin' NER Ranger? You guys having some sorta party down here or something?"

"First off, do I look like I work for the fucking Republic?" I sighed, gesturing to my desert camo'd armor that was twice as armored as the Mrk. IIs they ran around with and lacked any of the obnoxious NER decals. "And two, I'm on the tail of someone who was accompanying someone dressed in NER DeadEye gear. I'm on business with the Syndicate."

The two of them immediately reacted the moment I mentioned the Syndicate, exchanging nervous looks and viewing me with a very wary eye. The organization had feelers everywhere and made things far easier than normal for people like me who had been with them for a long time. Paletree had a Broker living amongst them keeping an eye on the surrounding area and the ponies here knew that.

"H-here on a Bounty then?" She responded, the hesitation in her voice obvious.

"A Contract actually." I responded simply, color fleeing from her green face as her eyes went wide with understanding.

"O-oh fuck...um...w-well, how can we help you Miss Hitmare? W-we don't get many of your k-kind down here..."

"Told ya, I'm on the trail of a pair of travelers. A Ghoul Changeling in NER Black Armor and a giant ass Griffin in Power Armor, couldn't miss them if you tried."

"I-I saw them pass through the other day." Said the other guard, a stallion with a copper coat and a dark blue mane. "In and out in a an hour tops. Said they were headed Sou-"

Without any warning there was a loud cracking boom echoing across the open desert from further South as the sky behind the town lit up a bright light blue. Everyone jumped in their skin and more than a few itchy trigger hooves went off sending scared shots everywhere including my breastplate. Had their jumpy nature not been justified by the colossal explosion, I might have been tempted to make an example out of one of them for flagrant disregard of all sense and logic. Even reinforced railcars were no match for a rifle designed specifically to defeat 30mm+ of solid steel armor.

"What the fuck was that?!" They cried out, holding their ears with their hooves which I could only guess were ringing like crazy from the noise.

"An explosion obviously..." I replied with a sigh, popping my neck and adjusting the straps on my armor for another long haul. "And I have a feeling it has something to do with my quarry..."

"That came from over by Junction 11! Fuck...do you think they...?"

"Hell if I know, Daisy! I fucking hope not! I've got a cousin who lives there..."

"What do you think it was?"

"Me?" I replied after I noticed the question was directed at me. "Well...judging by the color of the explosion, I would have to assume it was caused by a supercriticality accident of some sort. Does Junction 11 run off of a CFR? A Crystalline Fusion Reactor?"

"You mean one of them fancy power plants that run off magic or whatnot?"

"...in so simplistic of terms, yes. Does it have one of those? I've seen the place on a map but this is the farthest South I usually go when on business so I would have no idea."

"Not that I know of, they just use Solar Panes like we do to get their electricity. Why? You think one of those things exploded? Goddesses...glad we don't have one of those things..."

"Well, if they don't have one then there's only one other possibility..." I replied, forgetting I was in the presence of people with limited formal education. "A stockpile of Spark Batteries or CFCs had a catastrophic containment failure and exploded. Although why there would be such a stockpile in the middle of nowhere is anypony's guess..."

'That or a Power Armor frame was rigged to blow...no, would have to be more than one given how big that flash was...' I thought to myself, sighing internally as they looked at me with confused gazes.

"Well...either way, if they're not here then I have no reason to be either." I said after a moment. "That explosion probably had something to do with them anyway so I might as well investigate. Thank you for your help and stay safe out here by yourselves."

"You too, Miss Hitmare!" The mare said with more confidence than before, although it was most likely due to me formally announcing my departure. "I heard from the last caravan that came through that there was a lot of Steel Ranger shit happening near the Gap. You're headed a bit close to there so...shoot a few of those fuckers for us would ya? Do the Wasteland and ponies like us a favor. I've heard what they do to little towns like us just to get every scrap of old world technology they can get their greedy hooves on."

"Heh...believe me, I would love to get some target practice on some Power Armor with this fucker." I replied with a laugh, gesturing to the massive AMR on my back. "I can punch a hole in any armor worn by ponies and then some."

"I believe it..." The stallion laughed nervously before I left them behind and skirted around the edge of the town heading in the direction of the explosion, the air above where it occurred still glowing and pulsing with faint light and electrical energy like an angry raincloud.

Once I had made it a good mile from Paletree I paused for a moment to check my inventory for something to help the journey go by faster. While the Taint had improved my stamina immensely, I still was no machine and suffered from exhaustion just like anypony else did even if the timetable for it was more extensive. The contents of my inventory scrolled before my eyes on my HUD as I looked for the crates of liquid Dash I had pilfered from Jingle Jangle a few weeks ago but failed to sell when I had the chance in the Dark Market. I was still avidly no lover of drugs aside from the occasional private puff of Red Berryl while cozy in the privacy of my own home but this was an unusual circumstance. Being essentially concentrated nectar oil of the Berryl flower, a few drops on the tongue would give me a nice hazy buzz to add some much needed padding between my mind and recognizing I was tired. Junction 11 was easily another day's trot away and I needed to make up for any lost time in getting there. With any luck, they were making camp for the night somewhere nearby their handiwork giving me much needed hours to close the gap between us quickly.

The small wooden crate expanded to its full size as I pulled it from the top of my saddlebags and came open quickly with the help of a combat knife prying open two of the corners that had been nailed shut. Inside lay tidy rows of twenty-five small glass vials of the golden viscous nectar while an eyedropper, potency test strips and a blank pad of paper rested in a small recess to the right; everything needed for the preppers to test the base ingredients quality and make notes for the next stage in the process. Within a few moments I had an eyedropper half-full of the golden liquid hovering over my tongue with my canteen of cold lemonade on standby to help wash out the flavor which was a terrific idea. The moment it hit my mouth I wanted to wretch at how...oily it was! It stuck to my tongue with its bitter flavor and no how much I chugged it refused to wash out completely. Something...I slowly started to realize I didn't even care about as a Berryl high stronger than any I had experienced before started to stuff cotton candy clouds of bliss between every brain cell and I could barely feel my body amidst the haze of happy, giggly bliss.

"H-heh...fuckkkk me..." I giggled stupidly to nopony but the empty desert, retaining just enough higher brain function to put everything away and stuff the box back into my bags minus that one bottle and eyedropper in case I needed to top off. "Sweeeeeeet Celestia what a high....."

With my mind successfully detached from my body, I took full advantage of the situation and started to gallop across the empty Wasteland expanse knowing full well the exercise would end the high before it came time to be battle ready. Time held little meaning and a hundred hoofsteps in the sand might as well have been one for as aware of reality as I was. I wasn't a mare given to relying on drugs to fulfill a Contract but weird times called for weird measures and this one was particularly enjoyable for what it was.

By the time the sun was peeking above the Ember Mountains looming in the distance, I had only paused twice to piss and had consumed seven cans of sweet corn and a few things of Cram to satiate the intense munchies that accompanied a Berryl high. Junction 11 lay exactly where the map indicated it would be and once I had hit my limit for galloping like a madmare, it was visible on the horizon. I needed to sleep, I knew that much, but I was so close to my goal that I needed to push through the exhaustion and soreness in my body and see my nightlong push to the end. With the town so close, I decided it was safe to finally stop for longer than it took to consume a couple brutishly opened cans of vegetables. There was a quick fix I knew for such situations and while it was unhealthy to do more than a few times in one go, it was a viable stand-in for lack of sleep and general wear and tear from so much exercise.

"Ain't no substitute for a good nap but this'll have to do..." I sighed aloud, popping the cork on one of the Extra-Strength healing potions from my medical supplies and downing half the bottle followed by a reluctant shot of Medix right into my neck.

The flowery liquid flooded my gut with a sense of warmth like a bowl of hot soup and I could feel all the angry lactic acid in my muscles, strained ligaments and tendons, and the general weariness of the journey wash away as the medicine did its repair work patching me up. It was an old trick I had learned during my days in the Corps and was nicknamed 'The Wash' and was a particular favorite of Pegusi and Steel Rangers who drove themselves to their limits and then some.

Within a minute or two I was feeling as ready and fresh physically as if I had just slept for ten hours straight although mentally there was an inescapable weight on the fringes to remind me that wasn't the case. I would need a long nap after all this was over but it was still safe to do this one or two more times before the inescapable effects of sleep depravation sent me into a tailspin; three if I was willing to test unknown limits of my improved body. I could only hope I had the fortitude to keep myself sane on the long march Northwest back towards New Pegasus to drop off my quarry and get paid. They wanted him alive which...was going to make for an interesting logistical challenge but one I would figure out once I had him in my hooves.

With a massive sigh to clear my head, I got my hooves back under me and proceeded at a stiff trot towards the entrance of the small town. It was another walled town but on a smaller budget having a hodgepodge fence of cut railroad tracks and rail ties topped with barbed wire. It was...sufficient for keeping out (most of) the local wildlife but was somewhat dubious when it came to bullets. The front gate was the same as Paletree being made from a freight car off its wheels with a ramp leading up and down from its reinforced double doors and a smattering of watchtowers composed of telephone poles, rail ties and sandbags punctuating its walls. Also like how Paletree had better finances for static defenses, this place had only basic Radigator leather armor and one or two of the light Model-4A pieces. Of course, the most obvious part about all of this? The fuckin' place was still standing...so that was something.

The guards at this gate were both mares which was nice and both of them were lookers; a lovely turquoise with creamy mint hair up on top of the railcar with a rifle and a pretty white with yellow by the door with a submachine gun. With my optics I saw them long before they saw me and I noticed when the one with the binoculars and the view indicated my approach to the other.

"Who are you?" The white and yellow one asked, seeming chipper if a tad wary given my walking arsenal appearance. "Never seen you around here before."

"That's because I've never been this far South before." I replied, keeping to a suitable enough cover story since I did not know if there was a Broker working this far South and didn't want to put them off too early. "Saw an explosion last night while on my way here from Paletree. They had talked about you guys being a small place on your own and I thought I'd be nice and find out what the fuck happened for them since they asked me to check in on you guys anyway."

"Oh! Well that's nice of them! We're perfectly alright, all thanks to those two strangers from yesterday."

"Oh...?" I asked with intense curiosity as this had to be no coincidence. "What do you mean?"

"Well...I'm not entirely sure what they did exactly but the Sheriff said they saved the town from those Steel Ranger bastards who were causing us problems with their gang."

"Huh...mind if I ask the Sheriff more about that? It sounds interesting and I think Paletree might like a little more info about what the hell happened since it wasn't a normal explosion."

"You're pretty well armed for a stranger, what are ya? A Merc like the Sheriff and the Deputy?"

"You could say that, yeah." I laughed, playing along since it was an easy option. "Lotta Hellhounds and Ferals up North so I brought my best just in case. Been on the road a long while and it's come in handy."

"Heh, I bet! Must have a pretty rich Company you work for to have such fancy gear. I thought the Sheriff and Deputy had damn good armor but damn girl."

"Heh heh, thanks. So...mind if I come in and talk with the Sheriff? I'm curious about what happened, they might be Mercs I know so it would be nice to hear the whole story."

"Oh, yeah! Sure thing." She replied with a smile, using her magic to open the heavy sliding door. "If you do meet a mare there called Toffee, tell her I'd love it if she would visit again and bring more of those candies she makes! My little boys adore her sweets and we would really appreciate some more sent our way. I don't get the chance to leave too often so if you wouldn't mind...?"

"I'll try and remember if I do!" I replied with a lot more cheer than I thought I had in me for such mundane conversation, mounting the ramp and passing into the town proper.

The only thing Pre-War to this town was a patched up train station that now seemed to be the Sheriff office and was more than likely the namesake for the settlement itself. Aside from that, it was a small collection of roughly built houses and a makeshift town hall formed from what might have been a dancing pavilion once upon a time. The town was mostly empty but the homemade saloon was packed and full of the sounds of celebration. Here and there a few foals happily played around homemade toys in the dirt and sand while their mothers gossiped happily nearby while keeping an eye on their kids. Hoping the law around here wasn't off getting drunk with the rest of the town, I made my way up the rickety steps of the old station and inside the shabby building.

The interior was dusty and lit by the incandescent bulbs of the old waiting lobby with two desks, one on either end of the rectangular building. With a locked gun cage in the center and some office odds and ends here and there, the place didn't look half bad. Only the desk to my right was occupied and I made my way over to the greying stallion in a Model-3 with black and green paint marking him as having been part of the Viper Company. Far from the biggest or most renowned Merc Company in the Syndicate but I had at least heard of them which was something in his favor. Companies came a dime a dozen with groups coming and going all the time so after awhile I only learned the ones that were worth a damn.

"Well now...you're a new one!" He grunted with interest, sitting forward after having his hindlegs kicked up onto his desk. "That's a hell of a lot more fancy than the Black Armor worn by those NER Veterans...desert camo, big ass rifle...holyyyy fuck me..."

Gods it felt great to be recognized on the spot without having to say a damn word...

"Glad to see I need no introductions around here." I laughed softly. "What's a member of the Vipers doing in a little town like this in the middle of nowhere?"

"What's the goddamn Lone Ranger doing this far South?" He retorted with a smirk, arguably asking the better question.

"Fine, I'll respect the badge on your armor." I replied, not wanting to make enemies too soon for bad behavior. Wielding my reputation like a weapon of intimidation was in bad taste and wasn't warranted, at least at the moment. "I won't bullshit you since you already know what I do. I'm on a Contract and everything points to my target having passed through here as well as having something to do with the explosion I saw while on my way here last night."

He scowled and cocked an eyebrow. I was on the hunt for someone who had apparently done a great deed for the town but I knew too much to try and bullshit with. It wasn't a direct threat but if he were any kind of smart he would feel the weight of my reputation and give me what I wanted willingly.

"Big Griffin in Steel Ranger Power Armor traveling with a Changeling Ghoul, impossible to forget so don't force me to make you remember. If it's any consolation, my Contract is strictly to bring him in alive so your town hero is not gonna die. Get it off your chest and tell me everything and I'll leave you guys alone."

He scowled more and I could see the scales being weighed in his mind before he sighed and laid back in his chair, lighting a cigarette and rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I saw both of 'em. Came in around four or five yesterday afternoon. Tough as nails looking pair and that bird is fuckin' massive with a real big machine gun of some sort. The Changeling was a sight to see too...glowed like a fuckin glowstick and wore DeadEye armor with a massive rifle, something in .50 cal at least."

"Good choice. What do they have to do with the explosion and something about some Steel Rangers with a gang?"

"Well..." He took a looong drag of his cigarette and blew it out, probably to calm his nerves. "Ya see...couple of fuckers in SR Power Armor showed up about two months ago and started demanding protection money and drugs. Naturally we told them to fuck off and they've been harassing us ever since with a posse of junkies and psychos. You know...the usual story."

"So lemme guess...you asked them to wipe them out for you since they had the firepower to take on Power Armor?"

"Exactly..." He chuckled nervously. "Sheriff and I have our hooves tied keeping an eye on this town, it being a liquor pit with bored stallions. Even with Column, our other Viper buddy who works the general store here, we don't have the firepower to take on a gang with Power Armor. Long story short for ya...apparently the Griffin guy rigged the batteries or whatever of their Power Armor to explode and a whole bunch of others blew up with them. Thought the wall was gonna cave in the boom was so fuckin' strong..."

"I can imagine, I felt the shockwave and I was thirty-miles away." I replied, feeling myself silently nod in approval of his handiwork. "Soooo...what, you pay them and they moved on?"

"They were looking for...some sorta old military bunker somewhere up in the Embers. Didn't say why but in my experience those sorta places are goldmines so I can't say I needed to ask why. Their price was so cheap and Lager, the bartender, knew where a road that most likely lead where they needed to go was. Easiest deal ever to make and since they wiped the whole damn gang off the face of the planet, we can finally be left alone again which is just how we fuckin' like it out here. Let the only people who come here be traders and the occasional good folks like them to handle shit we can't on our own."

"I see...that proves my suspicions correct so that's a solid bonus. Should I go and ask this Lager where exactly it is or would you happen to be able to save me the trip?"

"Uh, yeah no, I know it." He said quickly, standing up from his desk and directing me over to a wall where a yellowing map of the area was hung. "Somewhere around...here"

He picked up a marker from an old tin can nearby and marked a circle in the bend of the Eastern Ember Mountains which was roughly perpendicular to the custom map marker on my HUD. It was a wide area but with any luck I would pull my trick from last night and make the last fifteen or so miles to the foothills and haul ass looking for the road he had mentioned. I would be best served trying to get ahead of him if I could and cornering him somewhere in the mountain passes.

"When did they leave?"

"Couple of hours ago...they stayed the night here and took off early this morning. Said they had to get to the place ASAP and even said no to free drinks. Well...minus the Ghoul who took a couple big bottles of whiskey instead. They did take some Red Berryl we had on hoof last night though and I can't blame 'em for enjoying themselves. Apparently they got it on or somethin' but it ain't any of my business. They saved the town and that's good enough for me."

"Alright...anything else I should know?"

He thought long and hard before shaking his head, "Nope. We were grateful to them, they said you're welcome and took off at first light. Not much left to say."

"Hmm...very well then." I responded after a moment of thought. "Thank you for the information. And for not making it harder than it needed to be in telling me."

"Hey...I just know that lying to you is stupider than walking blindfolded past a RadWasp nest. You gonna leave us alone now? Me and the boys, we did our time with the Vipers and love the simplicity of this little town. We put the Syndicate behind us and they don't have any ponies working amongst us. Can't say I'm not happy that's the case. I gave you what you wanted, you don't have a reason to stick around here anymore."

"Indeed I don't." I replied with a short laugh. "Very well, thank you for your cooperation. I get they're good guys but a job is a job, it's not my place to ask why they're on my Contract. It's just my job to see it through."

"As is the gun-for-hire way out here." He replied, taking another long drag. "Best of luck or whatever, Ranger. Thanks for being more reasonable than some whackos in the Syndicate."

With a nod I left it at that and exited the office. It had been easier than I thought to tail this guy and now with a damned good lead, I finally had the foundations for a plan of attack. The front gate came and went without much notice as my mind was caught up in the multifaceted process of planning the next stages. I had failed to ask what model of Power Armor he wore although it was unlikely he would have known anyway so it was a 50/50 chance between being the T-45 or 51 being the most common PoA in the Wastes. One option would be to find a vantage point overlooking the trail somewhere up in the mountains and disable his armor with a discarding sabot AP round or two. The finned tungsten carbide darts were long and relatively slim, especially compared to the normal penetrator of one of my usual 25mm rounds, and would punch right through the armor with relative ease forcing him to abandon it. At that point, I would have to deal with Firefly who would more than likely retaliate and I was limited on options on how to take him out non-lethally. Then again...if I found a good enough vantage spot right above the trail somehow, I might have time to slide down onto it and have him at gunpoint while the big guy tries to get out of broken PoA.

I had no cause to harm Firefly as his name was only included as a mention in the dossier rather than listed as a primary or even secondary target. As a Gungho-Gun, I really had no reason to fuck with him and I had the feeling he would recognize me as well and thus not stand in my way. Whatever bunker they were looking for would have to wait a bit and Firefly could have it all to himself for all I cared. As much as I was curious to plunder it myself, I didn't want to be gone longer from Melody and Gold than I had to. The money from this gig would go a long way towards extensive expenses and having my name cleared from the Contract on me would make me feel a lot less anxious. Less for my own safety but that of Mel and Gold... They were competent with their guns but they were far from experienced which made them vulnerable targets, something Black Velvet had made all to glaring back in The Pile. No...Firefly could have the damn bunker, I needed the acquittal and hefty paycheck more than I needed to indulge my urge to explore that sorta thing. There was always another one in the wild waiting to be discovered, as what tended to happen in a country as militarized as Equestria. Some places were littered with them every few thousand feet so truly...I wasn't going to miss out on something I had seen hundreds of times before.

This was going to require more prep than my normal jobs given I rarely did Bag-'n-Tags anymore since for one I found them much more boring lacking the fun involved with blowing someone to bits from a distance. And for two, I had earned the right to be picky with what Contracts I took with a particular taste for assassinations and the like. With Garand in Power Armor and Firefly with his Mrk. I, they would both have access to an E.F.S which would require me to use a tool I usually didn't find myself needing all that often. StealthBucks came in handy when the terrain didn't favor killing them from so far away that concealment wasn't a major factor to account for. As an added bonus, with my underbarding being wired thickly with microfilament crystal and StealthBucks being compatible with PipBucks, the device would need far less energy to render me invisible, stretching the lifespan of the energy stored in the gem. However...the real winner in this was the fact the invisibility spell it produced replicated the same unique effect on the E.F.S targeting matrix as the Zebra invisibility cloaks. Long as I chose a great location, neither of them would even know I was there unless they somehow happened to turn and use S.A.T.S exactly in the place and direction I was hiding in.

'Besides...you are a fuckin' pro, bitch!' I thought to myself with a confident chuckle. 'You've handled a lot worse girl, a bird and a fucking DeadEye not expecting an ambush is going to be a walk in the park. Easiest fucking 300k I could ever make!'

It was harder finding the damned dirt road than it was picking them up on E.F.S. Soon as the faint orange and green blips on my compass started to appear, I plugged in the small jeweled amulet into the bottom of my PipBuck and lost all sense of depth perception as my body vanished from sight and all sound was muffled. I had already prepared ahead of time with a lighter dose of the Berryl nectar and set off at a full gallop in a wide arc around and then ahead of them. Although they had a few hours head start on me, I had managed to catch up with them thanks to their pace being slower than I expected and soon their markers disappeared behind me. Fifteen minutes after they had vanished from the compass the enchantment wore off rendering me visible although the chances of being detected were very low with how much distance I had put between us. Past that, I continued my frantic run towards the foothills and reached them in a third the time it would take them to do the same.

The Ember Mountains were as reddish brown as I had always known, boring and devoid of any plant life being monoliths of stone. The sun had vanished behind their looming shadows awhile ago and really made for a neat contrast against the sandy yellow ground although the monotone mountains made distinguishing one rock from another annoying. Eventually though, something as noticeable as a service road came into view in the crack between two of the smaller jagged peaks. Years of erosion had rendered it hardly usable but it was still rather wide compared to the trail I had been expecting. This lead me to guess something bigger was meant to use it like Carriages or...maybe even armored vehicles. Now...came the tricky part.

I had already seen to casting a spell to produce a small wind behind me to wipe away my tracks and with my generous head start, I decided to slow down my pace so I would have plenty of time to observe the path for a possible hiding place. The path was winding, hugging the side of a nondescript mountain and snaking its way through a claustrophobic valley of rock. Despite spending most of my military career near them, I had never actually gone deep into the Embers with the farthest being Camp Grease which was only a half mile in; just enough distance to be out of the general line of fire. Of course, there wasn't much to look at...it was a red and brown dirt road in a red and brown monoscape of barren stone. Once the path narrowed into another bottleneck between the mountain and a sheer cliff, I spied an outcropping roughly ten feet above the path that provided a great view of the road. The road rose steadily upwards on ahead and there was little distinguishing my target and other rock shelves in the area. With a deep breath to focus, I visualized my angle of attack and tightened down the straps on my equipment.

"Alright...doesn't look too hard..." I mumbled to myself, rolling my shoulders and psyching myself up for the incredibly steep angle. "Up there is a fuckin' cutie pie in some panties with a bowl of grapes! Yeah...totally! Here we goooo..."

With my goal in mind, I ran forward using my legs to propel me five feet up onto the cliff face and latched onto the jagged rock with my forelegs, my hind ones taking a second to find something to grip onto. Rock climbing had never been something I particularly loved, let alone without belay lines, but I was confident that even if I fell, I had enough padding and protection to avoid anything more than some bruising. I was careful to triple check each hoofhold as I went to make sure no loose stone chipped off and tumbled to the road below and possibly blow my cover. Within a few minutes of careful work I had reached the outcropping I wanted with just enough space to go prone in with full use of my bipod. It was jagged, uncomfortable and totally perfect for what I needed. Once I was settled in, laying as one with the earth as I could with my eye on my E.F.S, all that was left to do...was wait.

'Alright...got my StealthBuck plugged in, two more right there on standby...' I thought to myself in the interim, glancing around and taking stock of everything to make sure I was 100% ready. 'Completely cloaked, got my E.F.S on alert, BORS system connected, Sequoia loose and cocked annnnnd I've got five APFSDP-Ts loaded and ready to go. That's everything.'

The wait was spent in silence, the lingering happy high of the nectar making it all the more bearable. I was deeply entrenched in my happy place sitting behind a scope patiently waiting for my target to appear. Certainly had taken practice to be able to focus on a single task that could be days in the making with my ADD always seeking entertainment of some sort. It had finally clicked for me when I first tried out for the One-Star Riflemare qualifier soon after surviving my first real Command defending the Ponyarny Inlet. My mind had to wander, there was no arguing that front...however, with how easily motion catches my attention, I was well equipped to wait out hours and even days.
I remained in my zen-like state of wandering thoughts until the echoing sound of cheerful banter hit my ears from behind me. It took some time before it became intelligible but it was lively and completely unaware. Just as hoped.

"Ah'm tellin' yew, it ain't no goddamned slouch damnit!"

"And I'm telling you I don't fucking care if it can sing and dance and suck me off, I don't fucking want a 2012 in my fuckin' holster damnit! They're overrated as fuck and everyone with a decent budget has one!"

"Look, all Ah'm sayin' is .45 Automag is ah damned fine round and can do some serious damage at close range."

"What and .454 can't? I don't see the point you're trying to make here, Firefly."

"That ain't mah point damnit! Yew think yer so fuckin' high 'n mighty with tha' there revolver 'o yers but Ah ain't eva seen one of 'em an' Ah love wheelguns! Plus, it's made by th' same goddamn company as th' 2012!"

"The fuck does that matter? Unforgiven is part of a limited-edition run made just for Griffin Rangers who wanted something special and was a fuckin' military contract with my homeland. The model is one of our really old designs that I have a lot of memories with back in the day, so when I had the chance to get one in a bigass caliber, I fuckin' took the opportunity! Who cares if FillyArms made both of them, this one is just better!"

'Fucking nerds...' I chuckled silently to myself, listening as the conversation got closer and closer. 'Sounds like a conversation I could get involved in...

"Still think it's ah damn fine pistol, Garand...yew ain't gunna change mah mind."

"Don't need to, I'm right."

"Oh fuck yew...what ya got against 'em anyway? They're everywhere 'cause ponies know they're damned good!"

"Ohhhh boy...lemme tell ya! They have limited customization options off the bat unless you get someone to put a rail on it or learn to do it yourself, you only get seven fucking rounds that aren't that fast and don't do shit to even basic Kevyarn body armor that's worth a damn..."

"Alrigh', Ah think Ah got th' idea..."

"It's so overused it's a stereotype for anyone who thinks they're hot shit, especially Mercs, it has a super slim mag well and can be finnicky to reload quickly, it's a single-stack mag which again has less capacity than other pistols out there annnd...they don't make 'em in my size. Even if they did, I definitely wouldn't have it chambered in something like fuckin' .45 Automag. I could probably handle one in the same caliber as my revolver if they were adventurous enough to even try something like that. Don't get me wrong, I don't completely hate the damn thing but I just think they're overhyped and cookie cutter; so few of them look different from another. I mean, to be honest if someone pulls a 2012 on me, I just wanna fucking laugh and let them try.

"Says th' bird in ah walkin' tank..."

"Oh trust me, even without the Power Armor I'd still fuckin' laugh at one. My plate carrier can take .338s on a good day and my Stahlhelm is supposedly able to handle APs in .308. Haven't had to test that yet but either way, both those rounds are a lot stronger than a dinky-ass little .45-cal. I think I'll be fine."

They were directly under me now, the sound of their conversation changing angles as my ledge blocked some of the noise. Within a few seconds it was my time to shine as their forms finally appeared in sight. Garand was taller than I had imagined, the BORS computer estimating his height at around seven foot; all information had been pointing to a smaller Griffin like the ones you saw everywhere. His height was unusually tall for a Griffin but his armor was perhaps even more of an eye-opener. It was a mix-match of a few T-51 pieces and a newer, more refined Power Armor I had yet to encounter. The shoulders and back seemed to be formed from smaller pieces welded together with a seamless bead but they had a gleam to them that screamed an alloy with a very high concentration of Celestium. The helmet to his Power Armor was currently off though his head was still covered with a desert camo Greifenländer helmet that was an uncommon but quantifiable object amongst Talon members. Couldn't even get a sense for his feather color as his neck was covered in a wide tan scarf of some sort before it disappeared under the tall neck guard of his PoA. Either way, Firefly had confirmed target identity as the name Garand was too unusual to be insane coincidence. Besides...a Griffin in Power Armor? In this day and age? Please...

Firefly was dressed as he ever was in the dusky tan-brown canvas duster of the classic Mrk. I Ranger armor, a reward to the DeadEyes of First Recon. Sure it was outdated compared to even the IIs of the Veteran Rangers, but it was still a hardy armor well suited for snipers and lone wolf types. If it was good enough for the original Rangers then it was damned good enough for the Post-War elite. (I entrusted Gold's life to one as a sign of how strongly I regarded it still.) Comparable to last time I saw him though, he had added on some supplemental pieces of Model 4 to cover the shoulders and protect the neck more, which I applauded as you could never leave too many chinks in your protection. I could only guess what other additions lay under the coat since the last time I had seen him in person. Slip into S.A.T.S anyyyy second now...

"Uh-huh, sure...yew gonna bleed out afta three shots in th' thighs 'er somethin'. Yew ain't fuckin' immortal."

"Won't matter, they'll be dead and I'll have a health potion popped and down the hatch before I even have a chance to feel woozy. We've got tough hides under all this fur and even tougher bodies under all that. Would have to be three damned precise shots to knock me outta the fight with just a .45."

"Yew just have tah be right sometimes, don't ya?"

"Sometimes, yeah I just fucking do. Holyshitmove!"

Boom! The moment my magic twitched the trigger the bastard flinched with such speed for a giant in half-ton armor sending my tungsten penetrator harmlessly into the road just where his leg had been frozen in time just a second before. S.A.T.S came to life once again for a few more milliseconds for me to get a better grasp of the situation and adapt immediately. In a wonderful twist of luck, Firefly was on the ground towards me apparently having been knocked or thrown that direction by Garand who had moved towards the mountainside and away from me. Taking advantage of the situation and my invisibility, I flung myself forward and onto a dazed Firefly dragging my AMR behind me in my magic. With my ambush at least partially successful, I quickly wrestled my meatshield into position and held my rifle up and at the towering bird leveling a bizarre LMG back at me. A bold move but it was far from a bad one.

"ATHENA!!" He bellowed, all I could see being his bright orange eye glaring at me through his ACOG scope. "Show yourself like a REAL fucking mare and give me a fight worth my fuckin' time!"

Not one to pass up a chance at some vain theatrics, I decided to indulge him. With a wave of my thoughts my PipBuck hit the pause button on the enchantment rendering me and my clear advantage visible to the naked eye. His dark blue brow furrowed in anger as I came into view although I had to assume he noticed the big fucking bore of my rifle and recognized the danger. At this distance I could let off two shots and penetrate almost anywhere I hit before the .308 APs on his belt had time to ding off my armor and bruise the shit out of Firefly. Naturally I was gambling with Firefly's life in the event the bird had no real regard for him but given the friendly banter I had overheard, I felt I had the better hoof in this game. He was an...environmental factor that happened to work in my favor, it wasn't personal.

"Peekaboo you fuck, you!" I laughed at him through my mic. "Sorry about this Firefly, this ain't personal I promise."

"You let him the fuck go, bitch!" Garand growled, not lowering his weapon or even blinking through his death glare. "If this ain't personal with him, don't fuckin' involve him and take your beef with the fucker you're after."

"I would but given you somehow fucked my first plan, this is me improvising. Sorry it ain't up to your standards..." I sighed, rolling my eyes even though he couldn't see that. "Besides, I like having the ball in my court."

"You want the ball in your fucking court? Well fuck you, how about this then?"

I hadn't noticed earlier as he had his bigass LMG pointed at me but across his smooth, boxy breastplate was a colossal revolver in an equally massive holster that was in a weirdly old fashioned design. His armor popped open in the back in multiple sections allowing him to climb completely out. Within a moment he was standing before me, wearing nothing but a plate carrier, tactical rig, a tan undershirt and desert flecktarn camo pants with some nice combat boots fit to his paws. He settled into a fighting stance and glared at me in blatant defiance, an open challenge to fair unarmed combat. Goddamnit...he knew my vain weakness without even knowing it...

"One on one bitch! Show me some real fighting! He says you're a legend? Prove it then."

"Fine, we can do it your way then." I replied, letting Firefly go much to his visible and audible relief. "Firefly, this ain't your fight and if you make it yours..."

"Yeah, yeah...Ah know." He grunted nervously and standing to the side. "Ah get marked ah target fer standin' in yer way. Ah know th' rules, Crete."

"Fine, big guy. I'll fight you on your terms." I said to Garand, taking all my weapons out of their respective holsters and sheathes and depositing them with Firefly who knew better than to try and run off with anything. "Don't touch the blade of that sword unless you want every drop of glowing blood in your body getting sucked up by a Blood Gem. Don't bitch that I didn't warn you."

He eyed Little Fang nervously and took a careful step back from it while I took off my duster and helmet, setting them on the ground alongside my weapons so we were both in our underbarding and more or less helmetless. He had some serious speed on his side but then again so did I. Based off his incredible dodge of my rifle shot, I knew he was nimble for his size. He had strength, height and goddamn claws but I had the advantage of being smaller and more flexible in combat in more ways than one. I tended to prefer bigger targets like him...they gave me more surface area to grapple with. The whole time I prepared he stared at me, eying me up and down with his bright orange eyes as attentive as an eagle on the hunt. If he thought to intimidate me by playing some predator/prey mindgame with his size and strength then he was going to get carted back to New Pegasus disappointed. With my helmet off the warm mountain air was uncomfortable on my exposed face, the rest of my body was still secure and temperature-controlled inside my armor.

"Ready when you are, big guy. Show me what you got!"

The first jabs were quick but avoidable and offered me the chance to duck and dive my way closer to him. I wouldn't waste time punching his chest or head and instead delivered my first blow, a jump-assisted uppercut, right under his jaw. He reeled back a step in seeming surprise, a common reaction to my practiced speed, which gave me the chance to parry two blind jabs and an elbow of destruction intended for my throat. He recovered almost immediately and grew more aggressive, adding his talons directly into his attacks which flowed between boxing and advanced CQC techniques taught in the Army. It was surprising to see a Paladin knowledgeable in the old General Army tactics but refreshing all the same as it forced me to think. Most home-taught fighters adopted a variously sloppy but effective style that danced around techniques and forms used in codified martial art styles but this guy knew the core curriculum. He showed efficient and disciplined control over his movements and his mastery of the tense art of combining offense with defense was most impressive for a Griffin. Knowing his strength trumped mine I went on an almost pure defensive hoof, only getting in a retaliatory hit every so often as I hoped to wear him down until an opportunity presented itself. It was far from the best plan I could come up with but it was the best use of my talents for this relatively well-trained freight train of a bird.

I was grateful for the latent buzz of nectar in my system as my tolerance for pain and exhaustion was just high enough to let me outlast his rather concerning stamina. The guy was a straight up machine and pushed the limits of my agility forcing me to pull deeper from my bag of tricks. He declared fair combat and I intended to follow the rules unless he cheated first. Somewhat unexpectedly he continued to fight fairly, avoiding cheap shots but striking ferociously and in rapid succession leaving my forelegs numb, my bones bruised and my body thoroughly rattled. As our opening seconds dragged on past the first minute mark, and then the second, his techniques and patterns continued to evolve. The rigid and pragmatic style taught to old Army grunts loosened up to become something particularly Griffin, making use of their unique blend of limbs and natural in-born gifts. Eventually though, I outlasted the unrelenting barrage of blows and saw my moment the second a semi-weakened punch was just off-target and distracted enough to make use of.

He leaned too hard into his punch despite the weak power behind it and brought his face, and more particularly his long and sensitive beak, into range. The margins were slim with a follow up claw on its way but I found the momentary burst of energy I needed to quite literally beat him to the punch and give his beak a nice, solid whack directly under the tip. The results were immediate and effective, sending him reeling back once more with watery eyes and an unsteady stance simply begging for exploitation. Leaping up and forward, I coiled myself around the fist of his right arm and used my momentum to push his arm up and away; my hooves connecting with the cliff wall and giving me a springboard for the next step in the technique. With a loud, yelping cry of pain, his right shoulder popped out of its socket with an uncomfortable grinding sensation that I could feel in my bones. He would probably take more 'convincing' before he acknowledged defeat but this was a terrific leap in the right direction for opening up some potential negotiation. With some luck, he had some brains to offset all that brawn and would be more...receptive to coming along quietly.

"OW! Godfuckingdamnit you fucking cum-sucking pussy!" He snarled in pain as I jumped away from a wild punch from his still-working left arm.

"I believe that should be enough to say that I win." I replied with a smirk and a mocking bow, having more than a few bruises from his colossal punches despite the excellent padding of my armor. "We've got a long ass way to go so I can turn your ass in for payment. I've got some incoming debts for some renovations I'm doing to my new house and I needed this money yesterday."

"Oh boo fucking hoo..." He mocked, clenching his fist on his bad arm and gritting his beak before twisting it and popping it back into place on his own. "Grrr...you know for that, I think Imma get mean with you this time around..."

I thought he was talking up a big game but that thought was quickly dashed as he took up another fighting pose, his eyes narrowed and full of a grim determination I couldn't help but acknowledge. I had survived round one in decent form and when comparing our injuries, I was clearly in a better off state than he was. All I needed to do was humor him a little while longer until he made another exploitable mistake in his offense.

"Round two huh? Goddamnit...fine, let's get this shit over with..." I sighed, taking a deep breath and steeling myself against more of his hammer-like blows while preparing to take every advantage of his right shoulder in its current state.

This second wave of blows was less complex than the first as his damaged shoulder wasn't nearly as cooperative with advanced techniques, nevertheless it was no less violently aggressive. Duck, dodge, slide a pace to the right and lunge, throw out a spinning kick and prepare for an immediate counter attack. Ours was a deadly dance, the choreography left purely up to instinct and disciplined training to conduct as we each worked circles around the other searching for anything we could use. A poorly blocked swipe left me with deep gashes in my face that bled into my eyes and the bruising in my chest from a kick from nowhere was noticeably impacting my performance. That being said, with my target having a hard time defending himself I was able to sneak in more than a few particularly nasty punches and armored kicks right into his unarmored shoulder. That was...until he managed to reverse my momentum attempting to disable his other arm and threw me like a sack of potatoes several feet, colliding with his stationary armor and sending stars into my half-blinded vision. He had screamed something during all that but the cathedral's worth of ringing in my brain made it impossible to remember anything from the last three seconds. This wasn't quite what I had hoped from this weird situation...

Getting to my hooves, the helmet of his Power Armor caught my attention out of the corner of my eye sitting nearby my hooves. My hefty collision with his armor had knocked it off of wherever he had stored it previously but what truly caught my attention was the paint on it. Stark white markings covering the entire front including the beak and nostrils...it was a fucking skull pattern! A highly stylized avian skull at that! One...with a distinctly Greifenländer design that couldn't be mistaken for something from Griffinstone. The SR didn't allow for that sort of thing in their ranks and it was a symbol I had only ever seen in a time long lost to Balefire. Something here just wasn't adding up.

"Where the fuck did you get this?" I barked with a little more anger than I was expecting over a stolen piece of the past.

"The fuck you talking about, my helmet?" He retorted with suspicion, keeping his fists raised and his eyes staring dead ahead. "Was issued with that fucker, dumbass. What do you expect?"

"I'm talking about the decal you feathery fuckass!" I growled back, holding up the helmet in my magic and pointing directly at the paintjob. "Who the fuck did you steal this pattern from?"

"Nobody, you sack of shit! The fuckin' Plague Birds birthed that symbol and I'll be fucked if I let you think I fucking stole that shit from anyone!"

Did...did he just say...Plague Birds?

"Say. That. Again." I commanded, wanting to make sure I had heard him correctly.

"It's a fuckin' Plague Birds original numbnuts! Don't you fucking dare accuse me of stealing something I helped create damnit!"

I was...absolutely dumbfounded. It was like everything clicked into place in my mind at once. The name, the helmet, the fucking knowledge of the Birds...I had to be sure.

"Prove it." I challenged, staring him directly in the eye with all the righteous anger my spine could handle.

"Captain Garand K. Enfield of the Steel Ranger Corps, Serial Number E-99208-0115. Why the fuck you even care? That won't mean jack shit to you."

"....Lieutenant Colonel Athena M. Crete, Desert Ranger Corps, Serial Number A-99226-6479." I replied, flabbergasted beyond belief.

"Desert Rangers? Bullfuckingshit." He snapped with understandable dubiousness.

I pawed a hoof to my chest, pointing directly at the faded crest of my Corps still proudly painted on my breastplate and waited for his response which was more amused than anything else.

"Nice, but you could’ve gotten that from a corpse in the Badlands for all I know." He snorted, eying me with an odd smugness. "If ya wanna prove your case, you're gonna have to do better than that."

"Fine. How about this then?" I challenged, yanking my Chain of Remembrance from around my neck and tossing my holotags to him once detached from the main chain.

His still-working arm snatched it out of the air effortlessly and his eyes narrowed as he looked over the small piece of tech. Holotags were nothing new with even the Steel Rangers of today capable of producing their own limited batches for their soldiers but mine were naturally unique in this day and age. The pair of small oval-shaped bits of steel and tech were truly only glorified micro data pads that contained everything a government or military goon needed to know about me. Name, date of birth, nationality, even an incredibly out-of-date service record and photo ID of myself in my dress uniform for good measure. These, coupled with the Lieutenant Colonel's silver leaves fused to the lapels of my duster, were ironclad identifiers that anyone who gave a shit about them wouldn't be able to deny. As for him, well...he had given me enough information already to feel safe in believing his side of things. The helmet, the armor, even his face and colors were all jogging my memory in brief spurts of remembrance. It was hard to make a forgery of something none but the Southern Front and Greifenländer of years past were intimate with. Besides...I owed some members of his team a debt that had roots in the hours leading up to the Great War.

"Fuck off...there's no fucking way!" He exclaimed, a laugh of disbelief buried under all the incredulousness. "Bullfuckingshit you fuckin' made it through that!"

"You tell me." I shrugged, relaxing my stance in light of these revelations. "I'm only around thanks in no small part to your buddy Peter. Might have forgotten about you but his is a name and memory I can't forget."

"How the hell do you know that name?"

"Well I'd have to be telling the truth now wouldn't I?" I retorted while hazy images of the past flickered past my minds' eye. "Flat owl face, dark grey feathers, had a Kyotian dagger or...was it a shortsword? Unusual armor and a foreign-made rifle of some sort with an off-set scope mounting."

"Yeah...that's Peter..." He breathed in awe. "Thick accent and a loner?"

"Yeah! Somethin' like that heh..."

"Yew sayin' yew two not only are both from before th' Great War but also fuckin' met?!" Firefly exclaimed in disbelief.

"I'm the first to be a skeptic about this sort of thing but you know way to much to be lying..." I replied to both of them in general. "One final test then. An old classic. Klutzy?"

"Draconequus." He replied after a moment of thought. "Holy shit this can't be fucking real..."

"Th' fuck?! “Can somepony please fuckin’ tell me wut in th’ fresh hell it is y’all are sayin’?!" Firefly whined, completely out of the loop like it was an inside joke which, in a way, it kinda was.

"Old friend or foe code." Garand explained for me, his eyes as wide as mine were in disbelief. "Don't remember the story behind it but it was effective, I remember that much."

"It was an old joke that turned out to be a great easy test of whether someone was an ally or not in the dark. Zeebs from the Empire could not pronounce Draconequus properly and rolled their Rs and pronounced 'quus' as 'quis'. You learned pretty quick to pick up on a botched attempt to pronounce it and could open fire as soon as you heard the first rolling 'r'." I finished for him, suddenly flushed with memories I thought I had lost.

"Who was your CO?"

"Colonel Little Horn. You didn't have one as you...fuck...I forget why but you definitely didn't have a normal CO. Special bird privileges or some shit."

"It's because we were on special assignment from our King." He sighed, rolling his eyes at me. "We only did what we deemed beneficial to the interests of our country and superiors which just so happened to mostly coincide with what you guys needed. In other words...we did whatever the fuck we wanted because we weren't technically part of your army. Every time we got promotions here, they were reflected back home and we were only wearing our country's ranks translated through yours. I'm still the property of the Koniggreif to this day, though I bet at this point he's written us all off as KIA. I know I would have by now."

"Right, you guys were special. All the authority with none of the accountability, a wartime officer's dream." I chuckled, tossing him his helmet with the fight completely forgotten now.

"Uh...great tha' y'all be connectin' on th' spiritual level 'er whateva but are yew two fighting or naw? Ah'm fuckin' confused here!"

"I...dunno, are we fighting?" Garand asked pointedly. "I'm with him, I've no idea what's going on anymore."

"Um...I guess not?" I laughed sheepishly. "I mean...for fuck's sake! Of all the motherfuckers to outlive the War it's you?? How the fuck did that even happen?!"

"First of all, I'm only a fourth into my lifespan so to hell with any old jokes you had planned. And as for number two, fuck you, that's how."

"Oh please, you can do better than that..." I groaned. "Fine, I'll go first then if it'll make ya feel better."

"Yeah, go right the fuck ahead because last time I saw ya you looked a lot like you do now and you sure a shit ain't no Gryphon hybrid. Care to spill the beans on this whole eternal youth shit you got goin' on?"

"Full-blooded Equestrian and proud bitch... Long fucking story short? Ran with my Squad and some others to Maripony Research Base to cut off a Crimson Dragon team trying to detonate Balefire in the facility and infect a third of the country in Taint as a sort of coups-de-gras. Peter was there too, offered to join us as a sniper and provided us with an overwatch during the run up to the site...dunno what happened to him after we went underground. Down below I...I got exposed in an accident of sorts in the waste disposal plant and the short time of infection was enough to do some work on me internally. Thankfully the Ministry of Arcane Science had staff on site who managed to stop the infection before I turned into an abomination like a Chymirryd and with it I gained some stuff that would help me survive. Next thing I know...Great War happens and the pause button on my age has been stuck on ever since. I can move faster, punch harder and fight on longer than ever before and arcane radiation can't lay a claw on me."

"Is that right...?" He grunted, his eyes narrowing with an unexpected flare of anger. "So Peter fuckin' faked his fuckin' death...that motherfucker..."

"Oh...? Was he...supposed to be dead before that?"

"Uhhh, yeah?" He snapped back. "He was supposed to be dead as of...like fucking September of that year! More than a month before the bombs. Goddamn motherfucker...we had a fuckin' traditional pyre burial for you and everything you fuckin' dick..."

"Uh...all tha' aside, yer ah Mutant then?" Firefly asked, looking at me with surprise in his milky blue eyes. "Like Ah Ghoul 'er somethin' like tha'?"

"Yes except Rads don't do anything for me or to me and I don't look a day over thirty-one or so." I replied candidly feeling an odd sense of relief at finally having an appropriate reason to talk about these sort of things. It wasn't every day you meet same person twice two-hundred years apart.

"Well good shit, Crete! Always wondered some shit about ya an' this here answered some of 'em. Now...ya gonna be nice an' tell her yer side 'o th' story?" Firefly prodded Garand, jabbing a hoof at him. "This mare is ah force 'o nature so if she done stop attackin' ya it's fer ah goddamned good reason."

"Ugh, fine!" He sighed, rolling his eyes. "The Plague Birds and I, minus Peter..., were assigned security detail for all the high ranking officers and other VIPs along with two Companies of soldiers including some of you NadPads. After Army Group South took Kyopsis we were sent back to the Southern Front till the end of the War. Apparently one or two of those asshats we were protecting got a heads-up about the incoming M.A.D situation so they decided to fuck off. Only had time to grab a few of the whole security team before we headed right into Death Valley towards some secret Stable they had built in the Badlands specifically for them. Problem was...at that point it was pretty far behind enemy lines with the bombs coming at any time. Fought till there was only a dozen of us left with me the last standing member of my Squad...and that's when the sirens went off up and down the Valley. Everyone just...knew they were the real deal and with a place of refuge from horrible death now opened up, Zeebs and ponies alike piled inside until we had to shut the door just as the Great War started. Rest is ancient history."

"And...you just lived in there for two-hundred years?" I asked with absolute disbelief, thinking over some of the many horror stories about Stables I had heard over the years. "Doing what exactly?"

"Nothing interesting if that's what you're asking. I got sick and tired of that fucking place after the one-fifty mark and let myself out one day. They had started opening the front door a few years before that to conduct recon and I had head from one of the scouts some rumors that the SR survived the War too. My life was next to pointless after that door first shut so knowing the surface was safe to return to, I decided it was time to get off my ass and get back to doing what made me fucking happy once upon a time. Unfortunately the long ass trip I took to regroup with them was all for nothing in the end. They were a bunch of fuckin' psychopaths who are too far up their own asses to have Souls anymore and...eventually it just got too much for me and I left. Went West to get out of their territory even though I know their beef with the NER could get my ass in some sorta trouble."

"Heh...the price on your head indicates you killed more than a few Rangers. Just how many then?"

"Eh...something like seventeen? Eighteen?" He laughed, looking a bit pleased at the question. "Buncha zealot weirdos...felt good lemme tell ya! Plenty of those bastards deserve more than a bullet or two to the skull, lemme tell ya."

"Indeed. And now you're out West getting away from them and their bullshit." I thought out loud, piecing together his story from the scraps of information on offer. "That part makes sense enough. What still doesn't make sense is why here of all places? I don't mean West of the Gap, I mean here. Right fucking here in the Ember fuckin' Mountains. I know you're headed to some sort of bunker up this road somewhere but what I wanna know is why you guys know about this place? I've never heard of this place. Spent almost my entire career in the Corps in this region and not once did I ever hear about any military installation built in these godsforsaken canyons."

"Well..." He laughed, looking knowingly at Firefly who laughed as well like a giddy colt with a secret to share with his friends. "Don't we got a story to tell ya!"

Next Chapter: Chapter Thirty-Eight: Desert Sands Through an Hourglass Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 37 Minutes