Chapter 4: By any means

Red eagle slowly came back to the conscious world feeling... well, he didn’t know how he felt, other than a bit sore. If he could come up with a word for it, ‘good’ was the closest. Not entirely true, but he was missing one glaring recurrence of his sleeping habits.

The nightmares. He silently thanked whatever hidden powers the moonshine had for driving them away, let him simply sleep despite the curse of its after effects. In his numbed near catatonic state he noticed the hang over wasn’t even that bad, not as he remembered it.

He shifted in his bed, at first lay there motionless until the idea hit him he didn’t remember how he had gotten into a bed in the first place. He sluggishly forced himself upwards and he found himself in a rather well kept room, besides the average level of decay all things in the wasteland wore. The bed itself was... clean. Mostly clean one would say, with large stains in its surface and tears here and there with one small spot looking fresh next to where his face was, presumably his own saliva, but the bed didn’t absolutely reek of mold or stagnant water.

That much he was thankful for. It was bare of sheets or blankets, save for one relatively intact pillow, well crushed after probably decades of use. When he turned in bed to look elsewhere around the room he noticed one thing that made him shoot up in alarm, and that act was met with immediate regret as he over exerted his slightly hung over body; his stomach lurching.

He was only wearing his under armor. His gear, including his pack, battle saddle, coat and hat weren’t on him.

He slowly panned the room, drilling the water damaged concrete walls and the scratched and nicked locker set upon the tiled floor, further on he sighed a breath of relief when his gear was piled neatly on top of a large metal desk in the corner on a wall, across of where he sat in bed. His lethargic pace kept he made his way out of the bed, testing each of his limbs and being satisfied he lumbered over to the desk and inspected his gear. All of it was as he remembered, save for being on his body of course, and next to his hat laid a note in terrible writing, but with some effort he could make it out.

‘Red Eagle, you passed out hard after becoming well acquainted with floor. Put you in room and -very respectfully- took your things off, placed it on desk for you and let you sleep on bed. If you vomit or piss on it, there will be charge, but never mind that. I hope that you didn’t freak out too hard this morning. Or night, whenever you woke up. ~Vadim. P.S. Some guard pony came to ask about you, told him you were indisposed. He wanted to pass message from Mayor but I convinced him to wait until you woke up. Come see me once you are ready.’

He slowly scratched his head as he read the note, half trying to decipher the chicken scratchings and half trying to shake the morning grogginess. The post script is what got his attention with wary alarm. The conversation he had yesterday was still surprisingly fresh in his mind -despite the moonshine he had. This town had a problem with non-ponies, and for a guard bringing a message directly from the Mayor was probably connected to the work offer at the gate from Desse, and more than that with recent revelations that offer screamed a ‘scapegoat’ job like never before.

‘What could a pony like her want from a griffon mercenary?’ the question repeated in his mind, each answer different and darker as the train of thought went. What was worse was if the details were discussed he would be required to do it, or have a brittle hope she would respect his ability to keep it in confidence. She had already shown distrust of Zebras just for the possibility they were Remnant, the group of Zebrican loyalists that Vadim had spoken of before that he recognized. How much distrust would she harbor for a griffon, let alone one of his reputation?

In the end, he just sighed. He figured that either he would take the job if the caps were worth it and hope she’d honor the deal, or have trouble sleeping here in town with one eye open if he refused. The only other option was to leave, the problem being this town’s issues had gotten under his feathers. He didn’t want to ‘solve’ their problems per se, but he felt at least a bit responsible for it having cleared out the raiders a generation ago; the cause and effect of it all irked him.

The mercenary inside him grumbled as he was doing the one thing he learned not to do years ago about places with problems; get attached. It made work easier when it was a cold, clinical process. Go in, do your work, get paid, leave. If a mercenary with his history had to emotionally face their career... they’d never sleep, and this town? He was already attached by a long buried connection slowly resurfacing that changed faces. Once it was hate, now it was becoming liability.

And liability, or responsibility and concern were leagues worse than hate. It made him care.

He scoffed silently as he shook his head with a troubled scowl. First he was hung over, now he was far more concerned as his calloused heart felt something he hadn’t for a long time. Caring about something, and he acquainted the feeling with profound crushing pain.Crystal city itself was built on top of a mass grave that represented the end result of caring, and it was the legacy of the pain he carried every day, buried as it subconsciously festered. He shook his head again and muttered coarsely under his breath as his mind raced from reflection to painful reflection.

“Oooh yeah, coming here was a bad idea.”

Once he calmed down and collected his thoughts after a few minutes, he settled back into mindless routine, numbed by the whole sordid affair by getting dressed in his gear. Once he attached his harness back and settled everything into place, he stretched out his limbs and wings, bones popping as he relaxed.

Taking out his PipBuck and turning it on out of rest mode, the processes sprang to life as the subtle cacophony of electrical and magical systems activated, and when the display beamed on it showed a little animation of cartoonish bombs dropping from the top right corner down to the left bottom one. It was quickly replaced however by the all familiar status screen and its accompanying warnings of the aftereffects of such a night prior. Seeing the time told him he must have slept like a Yao Guai in winter. It read eleven-forty-eight in the morning.

Sighing deeply he put the PipBuck back into rest mode and in its satchel, then fished out one of his canteens and drunk deeply of its steely metallic water. Walking over to the door he put the canteen back into his pack and donned his hat, adjusting its fit as he went. He pushed the door open to find the bar almost as dead as the night before, only with different patrons here and there; it still reeked of the same smells from the night before. The low smoky light and lack of windows helped his strained vision as he trudged over to the bar and found the large yak sitting behind the counter, snoozing delicately with his face buried in a magazine.

Eagle had to suppress a smile as he looked at Vadim, and secretly hated that he would have to wake him up. But he did say come speak with him once Eagle had woken up. Tapping the counter with a talon got nothing from the comatose yak.

“Hey Vadim!” Still nothing, so he rapped the counter harder speaking loudly.“Vadim!!”

The yak burst to life ripped from a deep sleep as he jumped in a stupor, eyes darting this way and that he finally fixed them on Eagle and for a second scowled. It was replaced by a wide grin as he examined him from claws to head, speaking in his usual booming mirth hinted in morning grogginess. “Ah! Griffon friend! You awaken! You don’t look too worse for wear either. Most ponies would look like rad rat shoved through wood chipper after what I saw you drink -can’t hold their liquor!”

Eagle just stood there with a slight grin as the yak marveled at the liquor intolerance of non-yaks, and nodding his head he spoke in a warm and friendly, but coarse voice. “I actually got to sleep last night, first time in a while actually. Feels good.”

Vadim beamed at him, feeling pride. “Well I am glad moonshine works wonders for you, I didn’t even hear anything last night after you met the floor. I take it bed is in good order?” Eagle nodded, and the yak breathed a sigh of relief. “Even better, ponies almost always ruin beds when they get smashed so, never can figure out why.”

After shaking his head, Eagle looked around the bar eyeing the ponies around ensuring none were looking their way or any he could suspect of eavesdropping. Finding none, he turned back to Vadim and locked his eyes on him and spoke in a low tone, half whispering. “So, a guardspony came looking for me? Said so in your note.”

The yak at once matched Eagles expression and spoke as softly as his voice could manage, which was still clearly audible as quiet at the bar was. “Yes, tall grizzled fellow came in and asked to speak with you. He wore typical guard’s barding, the works. He all but refused to leave until I insisted to leave you alone until you wake, said passed out creatures aren’t generally talkative. He wanted to press the issue I think, but left when he came to terms with how liquor does that; even yak with enough. Said to meet with Mayor Madame at earliest convenience.”

Vadim’s eyes and mouth twisted with a subtle hate as he spoke her name, yet looked under the bar and fished out an amber bottle, holding it up to his eyes as if inspecting it. “He said ‘they politely insisted’.” He scoffed as he regarded the bottle “Hare of hound friend?”

Eagle just shook his head and smirked a bit. “No, I’m not that bad off this morning.” He looked toward the door, grumbling to himself before looking back to Vadim. “Thanks though.”

The yak merely shrugged with a smile as he put the bottle back. “Think nothing of it, pony whiskey tastes of shit anyway.”

Eagle gave a little coughing laugh, and stretched inside his armor as he turned around walking down the hall to leave the bar; the overhead lights carving sharp shadows around him. “Here’s hoping I see this place again, I rather like this bar.”

Vadim laughed as Eagle grasped the door handle. “Well, sure it’s the bar or me and my dead beat brother’s shining personalities!?” He asked with outstretched hooves as somewhere deep into the bar a muffled shouting was heard.

Eagle just shook his head with a smile, speaking in a lighter tone than usual. “Eh, it’s part of it. Take care Vadim, give my regards to Mikael.”

“Will do friend, you take care as well and...” Vadim scratched his chin with a hoof, and donned a worried expression. “And be careful with this, it stinks of brahminshit.”

Eagle sighed as he made his peace with whatever would come next within the hour. He hoped it would be simple, something stupid that ended up being an easy pile of caps and him moving on. At the same time his growing care of the town began to eat at him, making him want to stay -to work the caravans maybe. He would have, if he let himself stay in one place for long. Conflicted he battled within himself, yet he set it all aside and shored up his mercenary mind-set; he’ll deal with the problems as they arise, no sense in worrying himself insensate until then.

“I’ll try to be careful.”

With that he opened the door, his dark adjusted eyes momentarily blinded by the midday cloudy sky, and walked from the bar into the façade of a pleasant town. From the long walk that followed to the Mayor’s office the piercing looks he received were completely recognized now, and he felt more of an outsider than ever.

*** *** ***

Mayor Madame’s office, located where Desse had said, was high above the town with a large semi-reflective sheet of glass overlooking the town wearing a smudged image of the skyward overcast. The access lift was a hobbled together elevator of sorts, and its path went from a landing platform that rested directly below and etched its way through the air upwards to meet the office’s entrance. In front of the elevator on the ground was a guard, immensely bored with the posting by the looks of it and were it nighttime, he might have even been asleep.

All that was ripped away at the sight of Red Eagle approaching the platform and he straightened up almost immediately, donning the typical stony face a sentry should wear, but edged with apprehension. Eagle, with his newfound awareness of the town, recognized it immediately, suppressed a scoff and spoke to him.

“Mayor Madame is expecting me?” The guard hesitantly gave a short nod, and held a hoof up to the lift. Eagle eyed it with skeptical eyes, and looked upwards toward the top of the long, treacherous appearing ride. Fixing the guard with a raised brow and flat expression he stretched out his wings a little. “I could fly up there; keep the stress of that lift.”

The guardspony just scowled as he withdrew his hoof. “Don’t do me any favors, feathers. Do whatever, just go see the Mayor.”

Standing there with a scowl Eagle stretched his wings out to their full span, gave a few test flaps and with a mighty beat of his wings went sailing upwards trailing a small cloud of dust behind him. Sailing through the air he held a talon on top of his hat, keeping it secure as his coat flapped furiously on his sides, and the wind blew through his feathers on his face and neck. Reaching the top of the elevator in short time he landed on the platform and settled down, looking outwards to the town below.

From here the stadium was almost distant, detached from the horrors of the wastes as the ponies below carried out their day to day routines; speaking with merchants, going to lunch, or just taking a walk out in the town enjoying relative peace winding through the ripple-like rows of ramshackle buildings. It was like a heart beat as the roofs shined dully from the sickly grayish brown cloud smothered sky. He knew better though, as with his sharp eyes he spotted several ponies below looking upwards to him. All but one of them had an expression of disdain on their faces, and the one was a filly looking star struck by the spectacle, eyes filled with wondrous curiosity.

Eagle smiled at the filly, knowing she couldn’t see it but smiling all the same. He turned back to the doorway behind him and entered Mayor Madame’s office in earnest, and was immediately struck by the disparity between the town’s now apparent poverty when compared the seat of lavish royalty.

Everything he saw looked as if it was freshly made, or polished and scrubbed clean with the fury of a thousand maids. The walls all wore new paint by the looks of it, a sort of amber color, and the clean burgundy carpet below him was a single sheet stretching across the floor uniformly as shiny unblemished cabinets and dressers lay upon it against the walls. In the middle of this office was a desk with an equally, impeccably well-kempt Earth pony mare, wearing a flawless black suit with a styled platinum mane and tail on her burgundy coat, typing away at a refurbished terminal before her.

She looked up from the screen above the spotless lenses in her glasses with a flat expression edged with impatience. She spoke in a light voice that was slightly accented, like a city mare would have, and kept a façade that receptionists held trying to be polite.

“Well, it seems that our visiting professional has finally deigned to accept Mayor Madame’s invitation. I must admit, she is a patient mare but we had expected to see you yesterday Mister Eagle.”

Eagle meandered toward the desk as he examined the room in more detail, and scattered about were pristine pieces of many things; decanters, a small desk fan, picture frames, among other miscellaneous things that in their conditions did nothing but exude monetary power. He had to suppress a scoff at the blatant display of royalty around him, even willing to bet the bedrooms up here were even more immaculate and luxuriant.

He tried to speak politely, yet make it clear he wasn’t interested in bowing to their desires like some lapdog. “I had... things to attend to -supplies to buy and get the lay of the land.” He fixed his eyes on hers and held a smirk. “I’m sure you understand.”

She didn’t change her expression, nor moved an inch maintaining her posture, and spoke flatly with an edge of contempt. “In the name of our town, Crystal; a new arrival should acquaint themselves with the city, it helps to educate them on how things function here.” She put on a shark’s smile that would have set a regular pony on edge, but Eagle knew the game she was playing. “I’m hoping you find your time here... swell, and profitable of course.”

Eagle gave a half laugh and spoke in his low, coarse voice smirking. “Whole reason I’m even here, actually. Profit,” after a few seconds he tilted his head and waved an outstretched talon over the desk “for all parties involved, of course.”

The mare before him seemed pleased as her shark smile loosened to one that actually seemed genuine. She rose from her chair after tapping the terminal’s keys a few times, adjusted her glasses and stood next to the desk itself speaking in a lofty voice. “Well I am glad that we understand each other, I suppose we should go to my ‘office’.”

Eagle raised a brow as she turned around and opened the double doors behind her and entered the space beyond. He followed her as she settled herself into a chaise by a low slung coffee table that had a set of Sparkle~Colas and bottle openers on it. The room itself was in the same condition as the last, clean and everything that could be polished was, and the great window overlooking the town carved in mocking clarity the gap of wealth between the town and the Mayor’s dwellings.

Something turned in Eagle’s stomach, and he couldn’t tell if it was a hidden noble nature beneath his callousness or simply an envy of comfort from a successful career. She motioned a hoof to the chair opposite of her from the table, one with a Sparkle~Cola resting before it. He mentally shrugged and sat, pack and all not bothering to get comfortable.

She tilted her head and regarded him with a mocking tone wearing a smile. “You know you can get at least a little settled, the details of my offer may take some time.”

Eagle sat there for a moment as he fully realized how either paranoid or grand standing Mayor Madame was, surely the townsponies knew who the Mayor was or what she looked like, so it seemed as if she took a bit of pleasure in deceptive games with newcomers; or maybe just with nonponies, flexing her ‘superiority’ on other creatures perhaps.

As politely as he could he shook his head and spoke bluntly. “No worries, I plan on getting to work as soon as possible once I hear your contract. If it’s agreeable of course.”

She gave a soft laugh as she reached for a bottle and an opener, popping the top off and filling the slight windy silence with a fizz and clatter of the cap. Taking a sip of it she delicately smacked her lips, appraising the flavor with a skeptical face ultimately accepting it was amenable. She motioned her hoof to the bottle in front of Eagle with a smile. “Oh, I think the only thing radical of my contract offer is distance. Please, help yourself.”

He nodded his head and tried to pick up the bottle graciously, but with little more than skepticism and surprise when he was met with an ice cold touch. Popping the cap off and setting it down on the table he examined the clean bottle and the opaque amber-brown liquid inside. He smelled the cola and its carroty hints as the bubbles rose inside it, condensation forming on its sides. He sipped it and tasted the drink so many ponies had an unhealthy obsession with, before the war and after. He wasn’t overly impressed with it the first time he drank it years ago, no different than now despite its ice cold soothing nature, but he supposed that carrot soda was a thing for ponies.

Sipping it again he set the bottle down on the table before him and locked eyes with Madame opposite of him, and donned his business face; a flat expression, gauging everything of import or detail she said. “So, the job’s a long distance milk run? Where to?”

She squirmed a little in her chair at the mention, and perhaps the over simplification of the task; her smile fading in the motion. She sighed and turned around to face a wall that held a massive map behind her, it showed in simple but accurate detail of continental Equestria, from the deserts of the Badlands far south to the snowy peaks of Yakyakistan far in the northern mountains and all locations in between on the continent once considered the unofficial domain of the Princesses of yore, regardless of influence or power in those places.

She panned down to the left side of the map, gazing longingly and fearfully at the south-western corner as Eagle judged where her eyes lingered. His feathers began to itch at the thought. She spoke in a hesitant, but hopeful voice. “Have you heard of... Hoofington?”

She didn’t turn around with the question and Eagle’s face, despite being even and flat, twisted subtly as his mind was now coming up with a thousand ways this job was getting worse by the minute. An assassination job involving torture in the market place sounded more pleasant. He spoke flatly with little more than hearsay on the place. He hadn’t been there before, and never wished to with his old exploits in the south.

“Enough to give it a wide berth, Hoofington has a tendency of killing anything that goes in there and an even nastier habit of turning the survivors into insane raiders.” She turned around in her chair and tried to keep a smile as she looked into his eyes that drilled the respective spot on the map, but she knew his words were true, if not far from fully summarizing the horror The Hoof held. Eagle continued though, his beak twisting into grimaces. “From what I heard though the whole region is tainted far worse than most other places. I’m not even talking just literally taint or radiation itself.”

She gave a stifled laugh with a face etched with intimately grim understanding. “Oh, believe me. I know full well. I’ve lost more than a few caravans going that way and the horror stories were believed to the wild imaginings of a chem addict at first. The only threat I prepared my ponies for were an obscene number of raiders, but when all hooves are lost or return addled out of their wits it tends to make a believer out of somepony.”

He cocked his head with a scowl as he tried to grapple with the thought of trudging down there, the raiders themselves numbered in the hundreds easily. That didn’t even take into consideration the other just as deadly threats that laid there. It supposedly sat as Equestria’s technological center, and arguably one of the fronts against Zebrica back before The War’s end, and it held a majority of their prewar advances and was home to a massive wave of corporations that specialized in creating and using all sorts of innovations -almost all geared towards helping Equestria win the war at home and on the field. That meant war machines, like robots for the immediate hostilities and defense tech like magic shields and even more that Eagle couldn’t possibly begin to list it all; ‘thankfully’ he thought.

Taint seemed to fester and spread there as well in its entire realm of mysterious mutating terror, and radiation soaked into the soil by the staggering amount of balefire missiles that the Zebras fired at it, torching and killing the land almost entirely. The worst of all was this... odd and completely enigmatic type of radiation he had only heard whispers of from the few, truly cracked survivors.

A life sucking, flesh melting type of radiation in the worst concentrations that no creature, no pony, zebra, griffon, or otherwise knew how it worked or what caused it. It just was in that hellscape, exclusively as well adding to its mystery, and he wondered to this day why any creature even bothered to go there. Let alone live there like the raiders did.

With a grim expression, he locked eyes with Mayor Madame. “You do understand... if I’m to go into The Hoof, milk run or not, my rates just went up?”

She gave a vaguely insulted look with a smirk. “Trust me Mister Eagle, with the ponies offering this job caps are not an issue in the slightest.”

He cocked a brow at her and shifted in his chair. “You mean you aren’t fronting the caps for this?”

She shook her head and sipped on her drink. “No, I’m not. If I’m to send anyone into The Hoof it’s for something much more substantial, but my contact... they gave me a contract offer and told me to fulfill it how I saw fit. Seems to me, marching an army of guards into The Hoof would end tragically both here and there, we need the force to keep our own city safe and Hoofington as you said has a tendency to play the role of meat grinder.

“The only other option is sending either a team of ponies there who could stay alive, but I haven’t a single real survivor who could make The Hoof, let alone a number of them I could spare.” She shifted in her chaise and looked long outside the window behind Eagle at her city with displeased eyes, but the fear edged her expression that if anypony here could survive that place she would be in a deeper dilemma. “What I need... is a professional. Your reputation has it you’ve survived countless ordeals that I shan’t detail as I’m sure I needn’t recount them; least of all to you. In the end I’m getting a massive shipment of caps for this and I’m going to pay you a staggering amount of it to do a delivery job.”

Eagle stretched within the confines of his armor, his body getting achy from sitting upright in the chair. His curious expression locked with her matter of factly tones, simple and direct yet gravelly. “Thing is, there is nothing simple about The Hoof, delivery job or not. What’s the package I’m to get?”

She donned a level and dangerous look that failed to put Eagle on edge, it only intrigued him on how sensitive it seemed. “The package itself will be kept in confidence; you’ll eventually figure it out once you’re there but until then I’ll have to keep that a secret.” She took the last sip from her Sparkle~Cola and set the empty bottle onto the table with a nearly silent glass thump on wood.

“You will be meeting with a team of pegasi, Enclave group who will deliver the package to you inside of The Hoof. They can’t facilitate delivery themselves since Enclave politics have apparently escalated between their settlements; some damnable treaty keeps the local garrison from taking the package where it needs to go. They don’t want to risk discovery, among other paranoid things... like diseases or overblown Wasteland horrors to keep them docile.”

She frowned as if in deep thought about the subject. Most, if not all ponies, despise the Enclave for what they’ve done over the century, starting with abandoning Equestria to The Wasteland’s troubles. On average though the only sign of their interference, or lack there of in most cases, was the massive blanket of clouds that draped the sky, hiding the sun and moon and all celestial signs like the planets and stars beyond Equus.

Eagle knew of the Enclave and the stories surrounding them, but didn’t care about them as much as your average wastelander beyond being a possible threat. Heavily armed and armored with a penchant for pristine prewar technology that makes all the best engines and firearms down below look like hamster wheels and cap-guns.

“That being said, the mission is simple, despite the scenery. Grab the package, and bring it here to Crystal City within a few month’s time, I’m certain that there is some time frame leniency but shoot for two at the most; I know there’s a lot of ground to cover between here and The Hoof. A down payment of two thousand caps will be given to you now to help equip you for the journey, payment in full of eight thousand when delivery has been completed. My contacts will handle it from there.”

Eagle just kept a level gaze at her, despite his desire to go wide eyed and cough in disbelief, wondering why such an amount of caps was being paid for what was essentially a jaunt across The Wastes; yes The Hoof was dangerous and he considered it hazard pay, the time frame left out sightseeing as well, but something else niggled at him. The cloak and dagger set him on edge the most. “Why can’t I deliver the package directly to them? Paying this much money they’re stopping short.”

She just grinned and sighed. “The employer values their secrecy; suffice to say them contacting me was a surprise enough, the contract itself and the caps it offered more so.”

He sighed as well and cocked his head. “I don’t usually take a contract unless I know the name on the check. Who’s fronting the caps?”

Her expression changed into a dangerous glower, but softened a bit by the reasonable question and donned a smirk. “I am, the employer asked me to do the job and I’m hiring you to do it for me. Consider Crystal City as the name on your metaphorical check, that’s the best I can give you.”

Eagle scowled and sighed deeply, contemplating if he was really going to do this or not. In one talon he had what he wanted, a job with a nice, nay... beyond nice payout at the end; a simple delivery job that would be a somewhat short distance all things considered. The only blemish in that whole scenario was a trek down past the Canterlot Mountain range -a problem in and of itself for reasons five years in standing- and then down through to The Hoof; a nasty no pony’s land that ate the unprepared for breakfast.

In the other talon he had no work, broke as can be with no wind in his sails to take him to the next town and hope for the best. It left a sour taste in his mouth thinking about it. Mentally resigning to the idea, and building conviction that he would be experiencing that hellscape first talon, he nodded slowly as he sat up straighter. “Alright, consider it on my plate.”

Her beaming smile shot through her glower and she practically levitated above the chaise in glee. “Excellent! I know you will manage to get the job done; the name Red Eagle has a reputation for being one of the best mercenaries one could hire!”

She got off her seat and pranced over to the wall behind her and she solidly thumped a piece of it with her hoof, and with a resounding metallic clang from within a well sized cubby hole opened up, revealing a polished steel safe behind it. She fiddled with the safe, inserted a key from her suit and the shiny face opened to reveal a cavity inside filled by a beige burlap sack the size of a pony’s head. Taking the sack with a bite she trotted over to the table again and set the sack down as the ever familiar cling of bottle caps accompanied it.

“Two thousand caps to give you a taste of the final reward; spend it how you please of course and... well, preferably here in town. I’m sure Crystal City will have all the supplies you need to prepare for the journey. Ammo, rations, even tune up your gear if you wish.”

Eagle stared at the sack with a mixture of feelings -surprise being one- but a slight bit of avarice inside him flustered. His money problems would soon be over if the job was successful. It almost felt like larceny for something so simple, but then he remembered the mystery package itself. What could be worth that much?

He snapped himself from the thoughts and looked up at Madame with his ever tried and true flat mercenary expression. “I’ll definitely be checking the market later; that much wealth is dangerous to carry around The Wasteland anyways.”

Her beaming smile curled into one that Eagle had acquainted with a crime boss salivating at a mountain of wealth. He had expected it, and surely the town would drain these caps out of him with the costs anyways.

“Remember, you have two months to get the package here. I’m certain that you won’t disappoint.” She fished around in her suit with a hoof pulling out a piece of folded up paper extending it to him. "Here are the coordinates for the drop off, I’m sure you have a map of some sort?"

He nodded his head and took the paper in his talon. "Yeah, I can find the spot. Don't worry."

She nodded with a smile again. "Very good, safe travels and have a good day in our marketplace!"

With a courteous nod of his head, eagle picked up the sack and slung it onto his back as Mayor Madame turned around and entered a doorway next to the large map on the wall, closing the door firmly behind her.

Staring at the expanse between Crystal City and The Hoof it was nearly five hundred plus miles’ journey straight there, yet the caravan travel marks indicated an average estimation, along the shortest route, to be twenty eight days. With him going alone and bursts of flying he could shave it down considerably if the package was easy to haul, and provided he could avoid any fights with the locals or get bogged down by anything like radiation or taint he guessed the fastest he could get this over with was in the ball park of forty days.

This all hinged on his luck at being able to trek out there and back with no complications however, and it didn’t even bother to factor in the package itself, which could be anything from a small disk drive to a crate of experimental weapons, he couldn’t begin to guess what would be worth a down payment of two thousand caps, let alone the full payment of eight thousand.

Shaking the thought, he looked at the empty space that encompassed The Hoof on the map; devoid of any warnings or hazard markings in that almost blank space to the south. Scoffing a bit at the map’s blatant ignorance, his memories of that place weren’t pretty to say the least. His old... entourage, before he came north, had heard only tales of The Hoof’s problems. Mayor was right though, that they all sounded like a chem addict’s wild imaginings. Mad raider gangs that slaughter each other for resources, cannibal ‘clans’ among them eating anything that moved, tunnels upon tunnels that sprawled out in all directions -usually with killer robots patrolling them.

All of that skirting the enormous and strangely intact glowing green city that spat out ‘super-radiation’ apparently with still active defense turrets placed in the middle of the plains the bowl of mountains created.

Shaking his head he turned from the seemingly wild speculation and made his way to the landing with the elevator, securing the caps better he spread his wings to glide down to the ground below. The sun behind the clouds illuminated the city’s rows of shacks below in a pale light, and off in the distance Eagle saw an encroaching thunderstorm as the wall of distant shadow covered grey and massive bolts of harsh, pale green lightning lazily rolled over the landscape. Their subtle but audible thunder beat steadily like a deep bellowing war drum, like they were beckoning him.

Staring off into the maelstrom with squinted eyes it set him on edge, but then again storms were almost always bad news regardless. He mentally shrugged and looked down into the city, gave his wings a few test flaps stretching the lethargy from them, and leapt down gliding towards the market square below.

The wind blew through his feathers and coat, and in his ears the whistling gave him a small comfort. For up here in the sky the problems of the land seemed to disappear and he could lose himself in the sensation. He knew it wasn’t for long though, as all things in the wasteland, regardless of their strength to remain above, will eventually come down to the sodden ground below.

Once it does, it typically comes down hard.

*** *** ***

Outside of the Crystal City the following morning was a bleak and hazy one. The air was filled with the moist aftertaste of an absolute downpour that frequented the wasteland. The ground was soft and mushy as puddles of water turned into mud with the damp soil from a nights beating of heavy rain. The sky was dark as the tail of the storm passed over to the west beyond the City standing defiantly with blackened silver spires rising in the plains of rolling decay.

His pack was heavier than he was used to, but well stocked for the journey with the essentials for a job like the one he was doing. Plenty of ammunition for his magnum and rifle if there was to be a firefight on the trail, which he counted on eventually. The Equestrian military rations he picked up were also well worth the caps in general to get, if you could stomach the idea of eating a century old preserved meal in plastic wrap that is.

Beyond that, he got his armor looked at and patched up for a modest fee since the riot armor itself held up well to damage. Nothing short of a shot that would cripple Eagle would really damage the broad metal plates in the suit, and the Kevlar plates were relatively inexpensive since Equestria pumped out hundreds of thousands of them before the bombs; it made the salvage market for them reasonably cheap. He even got his overcoat patched and stitched up, which twisted his face into a solemn blankness.

It was the reminder he carried of why he wandered in the first place, the reason for his pains and heartaches. ‘It came with the badge’ is what he heard over and over in his head from his memories of his old group as they walked the distance between what was once home and Crystal City. They all tried in some fashion to deal with the grief, and almost all of them failed miserably, save Gren. He dealt with it in vengeance, leading the rest with him on his path of destruction.

All too late did Red Eagle discover that blood wouldn’t bring them back -or her back.

Shaking the reflection free, he looked back at Crystal City realizing the true depth of his foolishness. The old tomb, while it flowed with new, arguably better life, it was still haunted by the ghosts of his past. The roads and corners in one reality were empty or inhabited by relatively happy ponies oblivious to the second reality, a hazy memory of desperate battle and corpses lining the streets. Corpses of ponies he had struck down in rage as their ghosts flashed images of their rent bodies in his eyes, and he passed them all by like a specter of death an age later admiring his handiwork. Only he held in his heart the regrets of a lifetime, enough to drown the griffon he was once.

The worst ghosts of all, were the ones that people like Desse or Vadim has stirred. Emotions of joy or pleasure, even friendship that had long atrophied inside of Eagle’s breast ached to life that brought with them the pains of reminiscence, the sting of lament that crowned a mountain of death like a shadow of disappointment.

‘It came with the badge’ echoed again in his mind in a dull and low rasping voice edged with chattering bare teeth.

‘You have to let go’ whispered in the back of it all in a sweet as honey voice, and like a dispelling resonance the smog of reflection faded. Hanging his head he would have cried there, if he had any tears left to shed. They were all shed decades ago -only a stony calloused heart remained.

After a few minutes he raised his head, his mind wasn’t clear but he knew the only way to break the miasma was to do what he had always done. Turn his talons and paws to the road, and trudge onward until that road ended. He couldn’t do more than that for the dead.

Footnote: Red Eagle maximum level

Next Chapter: Chapter 5: Desert Wind Estimated time remaining: 10 Hours, 37 Minutes