Chapter 7: You and Me

The Following morning was a strenuous repeat of almost all of Red Eagle’s mornings before. He dragged his aching form from his inadequate campsite and the routine of eating breakfast, usually an old and near tasteless ration of prewar Equestria, and the gathering of his things from traps to trinkets back into his packs. The air was musty, hinted with dampness as the dust clung to the evening light that snuck into the crevices of the walls and windows.

The sluggish pace of an alcohol laden awakening made his limbs echo the soreness in them with every step, and above all the silence, save for the rasping of his own garb, that made his ears ring pierced his senses and agitated him more than anything.

The only exception to his bleak and monotonous ‘morning’ was emerging from the ruins and again seeing the menacing emerald necropolis of Hoofington beyond, glowing faintly in the darkened landscape and cloud wreathed skies that wrapped around its central massive tower. His expression turned sour at the visage, only with the apprehension borne of truly beginning his journey towards the hellscape that promised nightmares.

The trek up to this point was at least framed in his mind as ‘in the general direction’ of The Hoof, now he saw clear as day the city in all its terror, in addition to that he now had to keep the pace as he glared at the city. A thought scratched at the back of his mind that sent all his survival instincts aflame as well, that the green haze stared back.

Shaking his head he groaned as he wrestled with the notion, and worked up the stomach to tread any closer, or rather the stupidity he mused, as only a true fool would willingly walk any further. Shelving the dilemma he girded his limbs for the journey forward, adjusted his hat better to fit his head he scoffed with a half smirk.

“I guess I am a fool...”

After staring long into the city beyond, he finally shook the visage from his gaze and withdrew his PipBuck from its worn canvas bag and flipped the switch to pull it from rest mode. After clicking ‘Data’ then ‘Automaps’ he adjusted the screen to display his location and the rendezvous point together. The distance was relatively short, half a day’s travel at most near the mountain range that bordered the northern edge of The Hoof, but his musings on a carefree stroll were quickly doused by the fact he knew there was no such thing as a stroll in The Hoof.

He etched out a general path between his position and the destination that kept him a good distance from the rough hewn building markers that the map scattered about, and marked the location shown on the map to make a heading through the destruction in the valley. He put the PipBuck back in its satchel after putting it into rest mode and eyed down the winding road below, spread his wings, and gave a hesitant running leap from the mountain side with a glide.

He continuously repeated in his mind that the moment he got the package he would do his damnedest to get out of there as soon as possible, back to the relative safety of empty barren wasteland. He wouldn’t spend an hour more in The Hoof than was absolutely necessary. His doubts however, just as his own reassurances, repeated in line with all his thoughts that unfortunately what would be necessary would be too long already; worse as well The Hoof didn’t seem to let go of anything without a fight, regardless of its value.

*** *** ***

Nightfall came long into his desperate pace, and the strange mixture of evening orange and ebon blackness that washed over the dense clouds that refracted the light amongst the green glow of Hoofington played with Red Eagle’s senses. It felt as if it was taunting him, or welcoming him with limbs outstretched wearing a wicked grin, like that of a dragon bearing teeth shining with emerald gleams.

The low groan of the wind that weaved through the valley’s open spaces echoed in his ears like the low, near inaudible growling of a distant monster, and his imagination painted a grisly image for the grumble to belong to. Despite himself, he soldiered on in such a way that he gave little time to remain in menacing ruminations. His eyes carefully scanned the visible surroundings, as if searching for one such monster he envisioned, and thankfully he found nothing more than the rubble or strewn rocks that littered the world so commonly.

The worst monsters Eagle faced were his own thoughts it seemed as he made his battle march forward. Given time to think, by the opinion of many who walk such roads, is perhaps the worst enemy any creature can face In the end it took either courage or arrogance to face down such threats, nevermind the formless hearsay of other witlessly scared creatures, but Eagle felt he really didn’t have either.

Idiocy then, was his only explanation for why his talons and paws continued to fall forward; a conclusion that he had already made before but continued to tell himself as the terribly gleaming city grew in his lingering gaze.

“One paw in front of the other...” He said to himself in a near whisper as he tried to shake his thoughts unsuccessfully. His eyes were set wide as they scanned the horizon of light that remained in the evening world around him. Deeper into the darkness he tread, feeling the suspense in his very bones as his head feathers practically stood on end and feeling even darker shadows loom in The Hoof.

“One step at a time...” He grumbled under his breath, immensely agitated at all the things that barraged his mind at once. In the end he followed his own advice. Slowly he advanced deeper into The Hoof against all better judgment with the low breeze and Hoofington’s ebon emerald glowing spires as his only companions.

*** *** ***

For what had felt like an eternity Red Eagle prowled through the ebon black night of the valley, avoiding the hazy silhouettes of large buildings and kept to the open spaces between them. Subtle, but alarming noises and shapes in the shadows played at the very edges of his senses, all of which taunted him and halted his progress with sudden stops to ensure there were no predators hidden and out for his blood. It always ended with nothing more than shadow warped wrecks of junk or some shifting rubble from small creatures that dug for shelter in his passing, and the chief concerning sounds were those of distant gunshots that echoed in dull reports through the night.

Time after time his muscles tensed and his senses sharpened with suspense driven adrenaline that left his mind weary and irritated, and in that darkness he stifled his desire to groan or grumble and afforded only momentary breaks to rest his limbs and drink from his canteens.

Eventually he reached a small hamlet of ruined buildings that matched his PipBuck’s map from the afternoon before, and with a catlike grace he lurked into the square shaped collection of blasted buildings. Deeper inside the inner square he heard the subtle sounds of movement that emanated from within a building on the northern side.

The sounds piqued his interest as they matched the general pattern of a pony’s pacing, though edged with a dull mechanical clank with each step. Unless his ears deceived him it sounded like the steps of power armor on concrete, which upon realizing it he immediately knew the rendezvous team was already here.

The chances of a simple gang of raiders having a functioning power armor suit were remarkably slim; let alone them being able to use it properly. More importantly, he thought, why would they be pacing here in some ruins without lights or controlling the square as an impromptu camp to keep safe? No, these ponies were working incognito, trying to keep hidden, and Mayor Madame had already told Eagle the Enclave’s politics had prevented them from making the delivery themselves.

Eagle looked around the area, remarking to himself that this must be close to a sort of no fly zone. The Enclave, consisting of pegasi, had the means to use the old pre-War mechanicals like regular chariots all the way to the heavily armored sky-tanks. He eyed for lights or shapes flying in the sky and found nothing; thankfully as a sky-tank would be a terror to deal with.

He returned his eyes to the direction of the subtle din of the pacing armor and girded himself to meet with now was presumably some of the ‘Enclave’s finest’. A mission like this would be kept quiet where they came from, to keep the political situation easy, and there was no telling what preparations they’d take from whatever they expected from a night’s venture like this.

He approached and as he neared the building it emanated from the noise grew sharper and clearer, now he was certain of what it was as the subtle details of hydraulic sounds and the dull clanging of metallic hooves followed a clear path back and forth, coupled with the quiet dialogue of several strangely accented ponies within. Their speech was filtered by what sounded like a speaker common to power armor helmets, but finer hewn and had better pronunciation than Eagle was used to, but their actual words were of like that of common soldiers. The pacing hoofsteps carried the voice of a hushed stallion, hard and impatient with a hint of a grizzled attitude.

“Where in Tartarus is that bastard? We’ve been waiting here for too damn long as it is. We need to clear out of here ay-sap.” His voice was replied by a mare’s, equally impatient and hard but carried by an agitated sigh.

“As I’ve been saying for the past few hours Lieu; I don’t know. Pacing around and chewing your bit won’t bring the courier any faster. Besides, we’ve held radio silence this whole time. Nothing short of a spy is going to catch us here holding the bag.”

“That’s what I’m worried about; we don’t need a spectacle of two renegade teams going back at the same time reporting a violated treaty. Shit’s simmering as it is.” The mare gave another deep sigh.

“Lieu, I know. You haven’t let us forget that fact for an hour here.” The pacing stopped and Eagle heard the power armor’s shifting hoofsteps as he presumably turned to face the mare.

“Good. You ought to be aware of how fast shit can get hot if this goes south. We’re not even a mile from the no-fly and you’re not even breaking a sweat thinking about it.”

“All due respect sir I’m not paid to think about it, the corporal badge doesn’t come with those headaches.” The stallion gave a groaning sigh of his own and continued pacing about for a time before stopping again and with a louder proclamation aired his aggravation.

“Damn it, where is he?! He’s late!”

On that note Eagle rapped the door with three solid knocks that brought all the inhabitants scrambling to their metallic hooves in unison with the sounds of charging weapons; magic based energy weapons he recognized. Eagle called out those within with a loud and clear voice, but gravelly all the same.

“Fashionably late actually!” the remark was received with a few more seconds of shuffling hydraulic metal hooves, as he figured they were arranging around the door for better battle positions, and after the noise settled he heard the officer’s helmet filtered words ring out from within with a commanding voice.

“Password?!” Eagle’s face scowled for a moment as he quickly answered his greeting.

“Password? I was never told a damn password, just a standard exchange op.” At that he heard the receding hoofsteps and the dull unintelligible whispers of the two soldiers, and after a few short seconds he heard the officer’s voice again clearly.

“Alright enter, slowly! Hooves where I can see them and any horns better be dim!” Eagle scoffed a little from the comment under his breath with the edge of a smile on his beak. Shaking his head he grasped the lever knob on the door and slowly pushed the door open as commanded. The door let out a low groan of rusted hinges, and around the door’s edges emanated the low gleam of a magically powered lantern within set upon a table in the center of the room. It cast everything around it, including the scattered supplies and packs of the rendezvous team, in its pale yellow light.

Eagle saw the shapes the voices belonged to as he tread slowly inside the room, standing in full suits of practically unscathed Enclave powered armor with subtle reflections of the lamp’s light, making light refract in nearly dazzling ways. Especially in the eyes, as they were large and insectoid with a hexagonal pattern netting the yellow-orange surface that gleamed menacingly in the lowlight. Behind their helmets floated around what was another nasty mechanical addition to their armor’s natural fear factor. A barbed stinger with a long and sharply pointed spike stemmed by elegantly forged metal plates and micro hydraulics that formed a sheath around their tails, ready to lunge forth with alarming speed like that of a poisoned dagger.

The most remarkable details of their forms were of course their armored wings, held out a short distance from their bodies postured like an animal would to frighten their prey, or predators. Pegasi weren’t necessarily an oddity to Eagle, as being a griffon himself all ponies seemed odd, but usually he dealt with earth ponies or unicorns almost exclusively. It was a rare sight regardless to see pegasi anywhere in the wasteland, any that weren't dashites like Black Water from last week that is.

They were set a fair ways apart, creating a small crossfire zone in the doorway with their equally well maintained magical energy weapons mounted to their sides tracked him as he slowly made his way through the door; the tips glowing dully with crackling green energy.

The corporal mare to the right was the first to speak, her words echoed subtly in the room as she kept rigid, gaze trained on Eagle’s form. “Shit, a griffon. Intel dropped the ball.”

“I’m aware.” The officer spoke flatly with a slight dip of his head to the side. “We were told it was going to be a dirt slogger courier, but you’re not even a pony. Who sent you?” Eagle turned his head and locked his hat curtained eyes with the insectoid helmet of the lieutenant, his glare matching the intensity of the pony’s armor and a voice to match.

“That would be Madame Mayor, Lieu. Out of Crystal City.” The mention of rank made the corporal audibly snicker with a shift of her armor, and the officer maintained his rigid trained stance as Eagle continued. “I hope you don’t mind a little eavesdropping. Had to know if you were the rendezvous team or not, lieutenant. For the record, I didn’t see any sky-tanks on approach.”

The officer visibly relaxed a little with his stinger tail and wings lowering, but he kept a firm battle stance with his weapon pointed toward Eagle. The mare remarked with a low voice followed with the same sounds of shifting armor that the officer had emitted relaxing. “Well, at least he’s an educated land-lover.”

The officer gave a quick lift of his head and spoke sharply in response as Eagle stood with his own rigidness, maintaining the glare and following the officer’s visor plates.

“Button it up corporal.” With an equally sharp return of his helmeted face he eyed Red Eagle up and down where he stood. He seemed to appraise him, calculating his trust of him. Eventually he spoke in quick but clear words. “If I didn’t know better I’d say that the mayor would never ‘stoop’ herself to hiring a griffon, knowing her dossier. What are your credentials?”

“The name ‘Red Eagle’ mean anything to you?” Eagle’s voice was low and coarse, and the slight reverberations carried his words as they dripped with intimidation. The officer seemed to be visibly uncomforted by the mention, and the mare voiced his mind nearly identically with a long winded whistle that was silenced by a darting glare of the officer.

“We’ve heard of you. I must admit I’m surprised; if half your reputation is to be believed you’re good, but that doesn’t change the plan. You’re to get the ‘package’ out of the hoof ay-sap. I assume you know the drop off point?”

Eagle gave him a curt nod, and glared about the room with lingering eyes, he bore a burning curiosity to finally see the whole point of this venture in the first place. “What is the package, actually? The mayor was intent on keeping that under wraps.”

The question had been burning a hole in his mind for the entire journey so far, and it was well past due for him to know the answer. The officer gave his own curt nod that emanated the low shifting of his armor, and motioned a hoof to the corporal as he spoke. “Go wake her, it’s time we wrap this up and bail. Madame was good to at least keep that much protocol though; it’s a... sensitive exchange, to say the least. You’d do well to remember that this never happened, unless you want a possible war to tear your skies down, surfacer.”

Eagle tilted his head at his choice of words as the corporal trotted beeline through a hallway behind her. ‘Wake her?’ he thought, and his eyes squinted with confusion as he turned his head to peer down the rubble strewn passage all but swallowed by shadows.

A minute later at the most he heard the returning stride of power armor from within and the corporal emerged from the shadows with a peculiar, meek looking unicorn pony in tow behind her. The mare was small, and judging by the sprightly youth in her bright slate blue face and brilliantly blonde, neck length bobbed mane, was probably no older than mid-adolescence. Her stance and stride were that of a shy child almost, and her expression matched with an edge of dreariness like she had been sleep deprived that her radiant almost cyan eyes betrayed.

The most peculiar detail however was that beneath her near pristine, albeit dust matted mixture of ballistic fiber and combat armor barding was the unforgettable gold striped, deep blue Stable suit, numbered Ninety-Six on her unbuttoned collar, and a leg mounted PipBuck that sat serenely on her left foreleg.

Eagle’s eyes looked her up and down from horn to hoof, and locked his eyes with hers and stared deep into her fearful eyes. He measured her anxious expression for a time in absolute stillness, and he realized that the package was not a ‘what’, but a ‘who’. Sharply turning his head back to the officer with a glaring scowl he spoke in a low and dangerous tone. “An escort job out of The Hoof? Are you pegasi crazy?”

The officer gave a chuckle that was visible in his armor, and shrugged his shoulders as Eagle maintained his gaze. “I said the same thing to my see-oh., but yes. We would have just flied her out but with certain tensions that’s not possible; only a ground op is. An op you’re being paid for I recall. Exquisitely.”

Eagle sharply turned his gaze, keeping the dangerous glare as he met her eyes again. The stare made her flinch subtly and she turned her head slightly as if his gaze was that of a cockatrice, threatening to turn her into stone. Eagle walked up to her and faced her chest to chest and looked down at her small pony frame, and judging by her subtle trembling she could collapse if he simply said ‘boo’.

“Look at me.” Eagle said with his low and gravelly voice, and after some effort she managed to do so, staring into his deep dark blue eyes his expression hard and calloused; her eyes tracing the long vicious scar across Eagle’s right eye from brow to jaw. He examined her features and her expression with far more acuity however.

The fear was practically tangible, and he squinted his eyes to near slits as he focused on her. He concluded she wasn’t afraid of him or her escorts specifically, but it was an ever so present trait of Stable dwellers recently freed of their gilded prisons. A ‘fish out of water’ look mixed with confusion and general fear of everything they saw, unable to understand or objectify anything beyond their tunnels of steel and concrete deep below the surface; Stables that served as prewar Equestria’s solution to the total annihilation of world war.

After a few moments absorbing the realization, he eyed down to her sides and saw a holster mounted to her barding's harness. Within it was what looked like a pistol of sorts, but it looked more computer than mechanical weapon; a magic pistol and classic staple of Enclave engineering.

He returned his eyes to hers and spoke again in a flat, coarse voice. “Know how to use that?” After a moment’s time of processing the question she made a slow skittish glance at the pistol on her side, and nodded making her blonde mane give a petite bounce around her horn. Her expression softened a touch, and a small smirk growing on the edge of her lips.

“Have you used it before?” he pressed immediately after her answer, raising his brows with an almost accusing tone, and her expression returned to that she had before; all signs of joy stripped from her features. Hanging her head low she gave a slow and possibly shameful shake of her head.

“Thought so...” he lifted his head and closed his eyes processing the situation. He shook his head briefly and turned until he could meet the officer’s helmet, looking at him sideways. “Getting into The Hoof was bad enough for one experienced merc, and now you want me to get back out with a fresh faced Stable dweller whose violence cherry hasn’t even been popped?”

The soldier repeated his shrug again with a dismissive turn of his helmet. “As I said, said the same to my see-oh”

Eagle turned his head and drilled holes into the wall ahead of him with a distant and calculating glower, and after a moment turned to see the mare. Her face wore growing faint red blushes on her cheeks, and he had to stifle a scoff as he looked at her embarrassedfeatures. “She’s a prude too.”

The statement made her features harden into an angered glare as the embarrassment turned her faintly sky blue cheeks almost crimson, and she locked her cyan eyes with Eagle’s in disbelief accusing him of rudeness. He gave a small, nearly invisible smirk that curled the very edge of his beak and muttered under his breath. “Hmm... at least there’s some fire there.”

Eagle heard the officer make a few steps with the noisy hydraulic metal hooves of his armor, and the soldier spoke quickly and succinctly with a voice of authority. “Well, now that the ‘introductions’ are in order we need to move. Been squatting here too long as it is.”

Eagle turned back to face him and glowered at his insectoid eyes, speaking with an accusing and doubtful voice as the officer made motions to pack up and leave abruptly. “Nowwait a moment, I can barely guarantee my own safety getting out of here. Nevermind dragging her along with me.”

The officer returned his gaze as he was fiddling with the small lamp set on the table, speaking with a soldierly tone. “Well you’re going to have to manage, we are under orders to take her here and leave when the exchange is made. We can’t take her back with us.”

Eagle scoffed under his breath as the soldier prattled off his orders. He shook his head as he looked back at the mare’s anxious eyes and she looked up to his from a lowered head. “What’s your name girl?”

The mare’s eyes lit up ever so slightly and stammered out her response as she mounted the courage to speak for the first time in the entire meeting. Surprisingly her higher pitched voice matched her appearance for cuteness; if she wasn’t stuttering from shyness that is.

“S-Sparks, s-sir.” As she stood there, she raised her face to see Eagle’s better, cracked a small and nervous smile across her lips. “What’s yours?”

“Red Eagle.”

He took a moment looking at Sparks’ gear as the soldiers scrambled across the campsite, packing all their gear for the journey home. Eagle felt at least a bit empathetic to the notion; the faster he got out of there the better but he was nervous in a sense playing a v.i.p. game. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes as his mind ran through the options, and finally he opened them and stared down to the Stable mare with intensity.

He would have, at that point, done the smart thing; the survivor’s thing. Refused the deal and walked away leaving her to her fate if the Enclave wasn’t to take her back, only his ears caught the ever so subtle, but distant and unforgettable sounds that spelled terror to wastelanders who played the mouse to this cat.

Engines. Eagle tilted his head, turned about face to the officer as he squinted his eyes and focused, nearly whispering. “Do you hear that?”

The officer and corporal stopped in the middle of their routine, and the former looked up at Eagle, his expression masked by his helmet. “What do yo-”

“Shut up, listen.”

Eagle's demand agitated the officer, but he tilted his head and listened intently in the near silence of the room. Upon hearing it, his body shot to motion as he packed even faster than before and spoke with the lighting quickness of a soldier under fire. “Son of a bitch!Alright corporal we need to get scarce, that’s a sky-tank in the air and we cannot get captured, understood?”

The corporal threw a short salute in the frantic packing. “Understood!”

“Red Eagle, I thought you said there wasn’t air on approach” The lieutenant glared at Eagle’s eyes that looked around, trying to place a direction on the noise.

“The skies were clear the entire walk here.”

“They must have crested the mountain range just now then. Alright, grab Sparks and get out of here. We can pop a flare out a ways to get them off your trail, just going to have to play an expert game of cat and mouse back to Thunderhead.”

Eagle tilted his head at the sudden generosity of the officer as he threw his packs onto his back. “You do that and your cover’s blown, you know?”

“As it stands it already is, sky-tanks don’t just ‘appear’ without good reason, and it doesn’t matter who is flying that, they’re in the no-fly zone.”

Eagle stood there and shook his head, giving the officer a cold look. “Don’t worry about covering my ass; I can get out of here. Besides, if that aircraft is truly coming here intentionally it might not take the bait. May even see it as an intentional diversion tactic and scour this place while we’re still in it.”

“Good point; alright then, good luck. You’ll both need it.”

The soldiers made their way out of the building in single file before Eagle could object, and once clear he heard their impressive hydraulic stomping gallop of fully powered armor soldiers bolting off into the distance. Eagle glowered at the space, now dark as midnight with nothing but the sounds of the night to stimulate the senses. A slightly sparkling cyan glow filled the room however, accompanied by the low twinkling noise typical of unicorn spells, and an equally subtle click and a warbling electronic noise that followed a dim green glow from behind him.

He looked behind him and saw Sparks with her PipBuck bearing leg up to her face as she fiddled with it using her telekinetic magic. The screen glowed brightly, cutting back the darkness as her magic faded leaving the greenish glow of her PipBuck’s lamp.

The expression of fear remained, but now it was edged with uncertainty as she spoke in a stammering voice. “A-alright then... what now Mr. Eagle? I c-can tell you... really don’t w-want to take me along, but... it’s important that I get to th-... Crystal C-city.”

He squinted his eyes again and measured her determination, and wondered how well she would fare against an Enclave troop if they really were coming here. Few could handle one of their soldiers alone, which wasn’t surprising really. What hope did most experienced creatures have against power armor decked in some of the most terrifying weapons ponykindhas been known to make?

Never mind a fresh faced Stable dweller.

Eagle scowled and locked his eyes with hers, standing chest to chest again as the light from her PipBuck cut their features in harsh contrasts against the room. He spoke with a low and cold voice as he inquired earnestly. “Will you be able to keep up? This is important; if you can’t keep up don’t step up.”

“What w-would happen if I c-can’t?”

“You’ll just die.”

The words struck her mind like a gale force hammer, her eyes shot wide and her expression turned into a far more thorough fear than she exhibited before. Despite herself though, she mustered the bravery to give the façade she could, puffing her chest out and standing with her head held high and her cyan eyes blazing with resolve. Even doing this, her eyes barely met Eagle’s collar in height. “Anything for home.”

Eagle stared long into her eyes, defiant and brave now that she had found her courage. The choice of words was surprising to him, and conjured memories in his mind that made him uneasy. He gave a curt nod breaking eye contact, and turned about making his way to the door. “Hmm. Alright then, stay quiet and on my six, and turn down the light. We can’t afford to be discovered.”

Sparks stood there fiddling with her PipBuck again telekinetically as the light dimmed down to levels that barely allowed her any remote clarity of vision, and shortly after she looked up with a puzzled face. “Your... s-six? What do you mean?”

Eagle just groaned a sigh as he shook his head raising a brow, staring at her flatly. “My six, as in behind me.”

Realization flashed across her face and she walked up behind him stretching out her legs one after another. “Oh! O-okay then, I can do that.”

“Now, it’s important that you understand this. If I stop moving, you stop. If I start running, you follow as fast as you can. I tell you to be quiet, so help me if you speak or ask questions...”

Sparks’ expression went from the timid mare to one whose agitation showed, as if she was lectured non-stop for the past few days on this very subject. She let out a sigh and frowned slightly. “I got it, ‘do what you tell me to do’, and ‘follow your lead’. I already got an earful in that regard from those two soldiers.”

Eagle just glowered at her sudden burst of defiant energy. He shook his head faintly and turned to face the outside and glared out into the near pitch blackness as the dull green lamp light cut soft shadows stretching into the bleak. “I suppose that will have to work.”

As Eagle and Sparks made their way out the building the night sky was barren of any lights, save for two. The ever present ensemble of menacing emerald gleaming buildings to the south that bathed the surrounding clouds in their green hues, and a pair of white lights mounted to the nose of some distant shadow out to the northwest high in the skies above The Hoof.

The latter he spent a few seconds to gauge it’s heading, and a scowl grew on his face as he saw the flying machine draped in shadow flying in their direction. “We need to move, now.”

“Right behind you chief.”

As Eagle darted out of the door he kept close to the western building line, with Sparksbehind him trying to match his pace and only barely succeeding, and they edged the town square and kept to the deeper shadows that clung to the row. Occasionally Eagle had stopped in front of alleyways and spied out into the visible sky, hoping that eventually the sky-tank would change its course. Every time though his hopes were dashed as the lights on the aircraft continued to grow closer and closer, but never changing its course.

He eyed behind him at the dogged mare whose breathing was offbeat and in large gasps of air, and scowled in thought. He turned back toward her and faced her as she looked up, panting as she did, and Eagle pointed a claw at her PipBuck. “Alright, show me the map on that thing.”

She continued to breathe deeply trying to gain control of herself, and eyed him in an expression of confusion. “W-what for?”

Eagle glowered at her intensely. He thrust his talon forward, demanding his order be followed. “You want to live?”

She gave a gasping swallow as her face screwed up at the question. “Of... of course I do!”

“Then remember what I just told you, what I say goes. Now show me your map.” Her expression became one of slight embarrassment, and despite her breathless state managed to clam up as she clicked several buttons at once on her PipBuck quickly with her magic and held the foreleg out for Eagle to see.

It was as he feared, and the scowl on his face grew to an agitated and morbid stature. The group of buildings was alone in the middle of the valley; the closest grouping was at best a quarter mile off. No shadows to prowl in but the midnight veil, and he feared the arsenal that a sky-tank might be carrying on board. Just a squad of power armor units meant serious trouble, never mind if the sky-tank itself bore weapons, or arcano-tech for spying out targets.

If it did, all it would take is one panning spotlight and all Tartarus could be brought down upon them; if even. He quickly processed the dilemma in seconds as Sparks caught control of her breathing and he spied around for a relatively intact building. Finding one further in the direction they were headed before he nodded and faced her again.

“Alright, here’s the plan. You’re going to bunker down inside a building up ahead. It should be intact enough to make a good hiding spot. We can’t outrun that aircraft on the ground, so we play it smart.” Sparks’ lips began to mouth a question that never saw the light of day, as she quickly remembered Eagle’s words. She nodded with a sour expression, speaking softly as if the sky-tank would have been able to hear her from there.

“Okay, lead the way.”

Eagle gave no recognition of her words, save for a fast twirl and galloping dash ahead that Sparks barely managed to match as her loud hoof falls echoed on the pavement of the cracked and sundered sidewalk. Reaching the building that Eagle was content with he turned into the doorway with a catlike elegance as his charge came to a sudden stop, sliding a little from the exertion inside the door. “Get in here, quick! We don’t have much time!”

As Sparks regained control of her hooves she slid into the building and meekly looked about at the near pitch blackness alleviated solely by her PipBuck’s light. The rubble strewn about mingled with ruined furnishings and counters, but a stairwell that led downwards was where Eagle peered into with a cold, calculating stare. His intensity confused her.

‘Does a sky-tank pose that much of a threat, being Enclave and all?’ she thought briefly until Eagle motioned sharply for her to descend deeper into the basement, speaking quickly and sharply with his unbelievably coarse and grave voice. “You’re to hide down there somewhere well hidden; a cubbyhole, closet, anything that makes you hard to spot. When you get settled, turn off your lamp and wait for me there. No matter what you hear, do not leave unless it’s me, and only me to get you. Understand?”

Her expression voiced all her questions at the barrage of commands, ranging from concern to fear in unison, and Eagle repeated himself with even more intensity than before. “Do you understand me!?”

The sudden outburst caught her off guard and she quickly threw her head into a nod, stammering as she spoke. “Y-Yes! yes I do!”

“Good,” Eagle said coldly and made a beeline past her back through the door. He spoke flatly as he exited the building. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes at most, you’re on your own.”

The coldness in his eyes frightened Sparks beyond terror, limbs locked by the prospect of surviving this terrible place by herself; alone. Spurred into motion by sheer fear alone she made her way down the stairwell, and Eagle watched her descend into the dark as her PipBuck’s light trailed off leaving the pitch black behind. He turned about and stared off into the square beyond, and gave a long winded sigh as he made his last decision whether to leave her to her fate.

Quickly processing one thought after another, among them being fears for his own hide if he went back to... well, anywhere near Crystal City in the future. He wouldn’t be welcome there for breaking this contract and he would have had to stay in the south, and that was all but suicide for him. Besides, he reminded himself that he didn’t break contracts; it wasn’t in his nature to do so.

Such a ‘noble’ thought made him grimly grumble at the prospect as he heard the engines nearing in the sky. His nobility was about to have him face down a whole squad of the Enclave’s finest and every survival instinct hammered into him by two decades of being a lone wolf screamed at him to ditch his sensibilities for common sense.

As his mind battled for his decision he heard in the very edges of his mind what could have been described as a dry, cackling chuckle as a fleshless jaw hinged on its skull. His own thoughts gave it a voice, and its words spoke with his darkest, most selfish desires.

‘Leave the girl to her fate. You’ve done so before; abandoning those who trusted you in times of need. It won’t hurt, no where near as much when you started...’

He reached a talon up to his armor’s collar instinctually as his eyes dimmed with an all consuming feeling of emptiness, and took out the subtly gleaming silver pendant beneath his shirt. He stared long at the scuffed and tarnished surface as it laid in his talon while his hunter’s eyes slowly adjusted to the near pitch blackness and filled out the details of the dull silver face. He clicked the small button on its side opening the precious keepsake to reveal the picture within, meticulously kept clean and clear as best as the weathered years allowed.

Her beautifully green eyes beamed through him, gently caressing his darkest thoughts and lulling them into a dull distant rumble. He spoke solemnly and morosely as he felt a sudden sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach grow. “No... she wouldn’t agree.”

Giving a deep sigh he girded himself as the sky-tank’s echoing engine rumble resounded clearly and promised death to those who opposed it. He slid the pendant back into his armor after closing it and assuming his sullen battle haze, eyes glossed over by the cold and calculating motors of war that turned in his head.

No, he would not leave this Stable mare to her grisly fate sure to happen, like a ship without wind or rudder to guide it and abandoned in the middle of the sea. He would not give himself another reason to drink into a stupor. He was going to add another tale as to why the fearing wastelanders eyed him with suspenseful terror, why they called him ‘Red Eagle’.

“Let’s dance.” He stretched himself out within the confines of his armor, his body loosening with resounding pops as he trailed off into the gloom, with nary a sound from his paws and talons.

*** *** ***

Sparks sat there in the pitch black basement, cuddled up as she shook uncontrollably behind a large cabinet that took considerable effort to pry from its wall. She had heard indescribable sounds, even underground as she was; sounds of explosions, ranging from small and muffled like gunshots to loud and ground shaking reports of destruction spaced out in sporadic intervals without sense or pattern, and raging shouts that were unintelligible mashes of only what she always imagined as battle.

The idea turned her stomach fiercely, the concept of fights, as in her Stable she never even so much as struck anypony with her hooves. At the most, she had an argument or two, but never even thought that violence would ever enter her life. Never mind so... abruptly.

She had seen the carnage firsthoof of the world perhaps, but one would argue it was a cerebral concept. The decaying ruins dotting the landscape were tombstones to an ancient, century old conflict, and the skeletons she saw never sat right in her mind, but in the end they were simply... an example of what happens when violence ensues. She had never truly seen, or heard in this case, the simple and unadulterated visceral nature of it...

And it terrified her so deeply all she could do was tremble and flinch as the distant, yet far closer than desired war happened above her. Every pop and boom echoed in the urban cave she dwelled within, and with nothing but her senses of hearing and touch as the explosions barraged both it filled the chamber and shook the ground ever so slightly. All she could do was scream internally.

After what felt like an eternity, hiding in the blackness, the sounds of her most hated and feared concept ended abruptly with a trailing off absence of any stimuli, be it sound or small tremors, and it left Sparks to silence and her own racing heart and rattled breath. She closed her eyes tightly in the lack of feeling, her mind raced yet altogether void of coherent thought, and she did her best to keep silent albeit unsuccessfully.

After a second eternity lying there behind her hobbled together hiding spot she could hear the faintest sounds of what seemed like ragged steps of leather against concrete, without rhythm or sense in the pace. Her heart burst to unimaginable speed as she sweated profusely, like an animal caught in a trap, agonized and yet to be slain as her captor grinned grimly over their catch.

A low and pained groaning growl followed as the steps that grew closer and closer, and it grew nearly unintelligible words that followed in a ragged speech pattern that bore a coarse and flat accent that made her feel as if her heart would burst.

“Girl... Girl!”

Upon hearing this, her mind raced even faster and gave into hope that it was her new griffon protector as it sounded like him, only... hurt? She attempted to stand but her fear locked legs refused to move, and doubt grew from the precious seconds she hesitated. Doubts like that very griffon’s own words, ‘stay here and keep quiet’ and from that spawned other uncertainties that festered in her terror locked body and mind.

It was all but ripped away when the same voice called out again in a full bodied shout that echoed clearly inside the basement. “Sparks!!”

The shout involuntarily brought her legs to shaky action, and she stood up on all four hooves and peered around and up from the cabinet. Finding nothing but the pitch blackness she used her trembling hoof to activate her PipBuck’s lamp light as her fear locked mind kept her horn from use. It bathed the room in its low greenish glow that hurt her eyes. The clock on the device in the upper righthoof screen said that only twelve minutes had passed since she took shelter down here, and the time alone locked her mind in a frenzy of confusion.

‘Was it only that long?’ She could have sworn it was far longer than that she spent curled up. She shook the thought and made her trembling body take steps towards the stair well and peered up into the darkness where her PipBuck’s light carved away the bleak. Slouched over the hoofrail above the steps peered down the bloodied figure of Red Eagle, his armor blackened and scarred, as if burnt, and his somewhat tattered and scorched coat all but dripping with shimmering crimson splatters with rivulets of them inching downwards.

His face was cold; far colder and harder than she ever believed anypony, or creature for that matter, could wear, and his eyes peered down at her with a hard glare as his feathers exhibited all the same traits his attire wore save for the scorches. His left talon draped over the rail supporting his weight as his legs held little to no strength in them, and his right held a revolver smothered in that sanguine fluid; the barrel steamed subtly.

His hat sat on his head, cocked to one side a little over his smoldering, but colder than the grave eyes that drilled into hers. “Come here...”

It took all the effort in the world for Sparks to even begin to consider it. He was, in all reality, an embodiment of all she feared set into one being. Caked in blood and as vile and murderous as no monster of Tartarus could match, her imagination ran wild with terror of his form. It was all but dispelled when he growled out again in his coarse, gravelly voice dripping with vehemence. “Come... here...”

As if under a spell her body approached the bloodied form of Red Eagle involuntarily. Step by agonized step she neared his tattered form and saw with clarity his grisly wounds beneath his barding as her PipBuck’s light illuminated them. An unexpected but fitting reaction upon seeing them the training inside her erupted forth like a sudden storm as she sketched out the cuts and burns on his flesh with a skilled eye and spoke with a caring and surprised tone with her cracking cute voice. “Good Goddesses, you’re injured!”

Eagle’s state of mind after the fight left him no other reaction but a sneering groan, speaking in half growls. “How kind of you... to notice.”

His words pained him to speak, and Sparks saw all the signs of specific traumas he endured and the affects she knew that followed; lacerations with immense blood lose, severe hypothermic plasma burns and the dehydration shortly after, explosives’ shrapnel that peppered him from paws to back, the post traumatic event adrenaline crash and the weakness afterwards. He exhibited them all.

Reaching deep into her saddlebag she pulled out a small toolbox shaped canvas bag that proudly wore the large pink and yellow insignia of the prewar Ministry of Peace’s butterflies that gave life to the dull dark brown canvas. She slipped past Eagle and motioned for him to lie down, speaking in her nervous voice, but now edged with the instructing voice of a doctor. “Come on, if I can’t treat those wounds now you won’t be standing for long.”

He growled out a response draped in vicious wit. “Perceptive... what are you, a d-”

“A doctor? I don’t have a medical license, but I’m probably the only one nearby who knows the difference between a tibia and a tumor. So get over here before you... you bleed out over the floor!”

Eagle hesitated for a moment before silently mustering all his remaining strength to limp over to where Sparks was, trailing boot prints in blood and dirt as he hobbled, voicing only the pain as he groaned with the effort. He was too tired and hurt to bother questioning her sudden usefulness, or to think of anything beyond what was immediately in front of him.

She fiddled with her PipBuck until the lamp light was bright and vividly cast everything in its gleam, and the light hurt Eagle’s squinted eyes if he merely saw the room around him. Sparks extended her hooves out to ease him down to the floor and Eagle violently, but weakly swatted them aside as he exclaimed lowly in pain, his face contorted and winced from the exertions his body did not wish to endure.

Sparks merely shook her head with a grim scowl and she all but ripped open the zipper on her bag with magic, pulling several strange but simplistic tools out examining each thoroughly and swiftly with her cyan telekinetic aura, speaking in rapid focused tones. “Can you take off your armor at all?” Eagle just grunted out a growling ‘no’ as an answer, from the sheer pain of moving most likely she figured. “Alright then, well you’re taking this for anesthetic.”

She held up a small syringe bathed in the sister part to her horns glowing radiance. Its needle capped in a dull pinkish covering with its central canister showing clear glass in small slits of its bare steel casing, and they revealed an almost glowing magenta liquid inside it. On the bands of metal Eagle eyed out the lettering printed on its label with help from her magical light. ‘PainAway’ it read, and with it he gave out a low pained groan of refusal. “No... Not... going to risk it. That shits got a...”

Sparks silenced him with a wave of her hoof as she nearly yelled at his slowly bleeding form on the floor; her voice made her condescending tones lose a touch of their edge. “Well if I’m going to get to your wounds I need to get your armor off, or drug you out of your senses so when I go pulling on your armor I don’t wrack your entire body with more pain, alright?”

Eagle sat there for a few moments, measuring out which pain he’d rather face. Chems always had a nasty reputation for addiction rates, but worse than that for him was the absolute useless state he would be in for the duration of the drug’s effect, never mind the crash afterwards. He lifted his free talon up to his pack and after some considerable effort fished out his quarter empty moonshine bottle, smearing the glass surface with talonprints of blood across its crystalline surface. “Consider this... my... anesthetic then.”

Sparks’ expression hardened in incredulity at his choice, frowning as she shook the needle with her magic speaking accusingly. “Oh right, chems are bad but alcohol is just fine. Great leap of logic th-“

“I don’t need-!!” Eagle’s face flew into a heated rage that dissipated in moments as the exertion took the wind out of him. He gave a pained sigh and fell back to the floor and spoke again in a calmer, but firm tone that Sparks’ wide eyes listened to intently. “I don’t need... your scolding... alright? Just...”

He tried to pop the cork out of the bottle with a sluggish motion, a talon held it firmly as the other attempted to open it still clenching his blood soaked revolver. He succeeded, but only just, and took long and pained drags off the drink as his body welcomed the dreadful taste and high alcohol content with a greedy pleasure, quick to exchange the pain from a dozen wounds for its terrible embrace.

Sparks merely shook her head, the doctor in her wanting to list off the problems with his logic but the empathetic side of her merely watched him down so much of that strangely pungent drink it made her gag a little.

Once Eagle had finished his gulps, he set the bottle down, shakily as his face contorted violently between the alcohol’s horrid flavor and his wounds, and he settled down easily. His eyes glazed over as his whole body pangs receded from terrible, to bearable over time. Sparks watched as he eased into a quickly inebriated state of being and set out all the tools she thought she would need; among them a suturing needle and several vials of strange liquids next to radiantly glowing healing potions.

She turned to face him, tools floating about her, and eyed down to his revolver held tightly in his grip. “Could you... ah, put that away please?”

Eagle raised a brow as his sluggish senses tried to understand what she meant. He lifted his head with an exertion and followed where her eyes traveled and saw his pistol firmly in his grasp. He let out a groan as he silently chastised her for shyness, and set the pistol down next to him on the floor after he screwed his face up.

She shrugged and gave a mirthless, anxious smile as she breathed deeply, trying her best to calm her nerves. “Alright... let’s see what we can do.”

*** *** ***

Early morning passed by with nary a disturbance from beyond the improvised clinic, but that didn’t stop the random cries of pain that emanated from Eagle. The process was difficult and tiresome, but successful all the same as she used some odd mixture of doctoring Eagle hadn’t seen before. Not that he saw much of it, but usually unicorns just magicked back their patients to health or applied liberal amounts of potions. What she was doing seemed like an odd mash of earth pony and unicorn techniques, yet far more deliberate than some once veterinarian turned sawbones.

She would stitch wounds closed and stop the bleeding, and then used either a healing spell or potions at her disposal to close the wound. After ensuring the flesh knit back together correctly she would remove the scar tissue from his burns with scalpels, and after that she used a small dropper, administering healing potion directly onto the wound in controlled amounts so she could use them to their maximum effect.

She watched, and he felt, the magical brews merely magicked back his pristine, but still slightly scarred off color pinkish flesh into being. The wounds silhouetted into patches by his thin fur coat and feathers as she used a pair of long needle nose tweezers to dig the shrapnel out of his hind legs.

All the while as she held the focus of a doctor, however some part inside of her feeling giddy at the chance to learn more of griffon anatomy as the strange mixture of cat and bird that lay on the floor before her.

Exotic was the word the old doctor journals used; non-equine life like griffons,minotaurs, manticores, or any species with such exquisite pairings of two or more entirely different beings that she only read about in computer files or books. After a while her thoughts unintentionally trailed off into more... carnal curiosities as she plucked shreds of steel from his thighs staring long at his posterior, and her expression went flaming red at the self proclaimed depravity of even thinking such thoughts during an operation, or even of a total stranger to her.

Eagle caught her halted progress and lethargically raised his head, his neck stiff with soreness and pain, and looked at her beat red face. “Something wrong?” He said bluntly.

The stirring of her patient caught her off guard as she clammed up in embarrassment and went back to plucking out steel shards from his hind legs. She spoke in a manner clearly showing the awkwardness. “Oh, nothing... just... it’s nothing.”

Eagle gave a long look at her face, the blush was apparent even in his stupor with her cheeks blazing against her slate coat. It took a moment for the thought to register in his mind, and the idea made him give a deep sigh of agitation. He rolled his eyes as he laid his head back to the floor. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...”

“W-what?” Sparks’ voice cracked under her own shame as she eyed Eagle’s wounds as she focused intently on her work, and Eagle merely muttered as he lay there and let her pick out the last pieces of shrapnel.

“You ponies are all obsessed... I swear.” As Sparks was hoisting up the healing potion bottle she used her small dropper again to put little dollops of the brilliantly gleaming liquid inside his wounds, watching them knit together again as if he had never even taken the shrapnel. When she heard Eagle speak she clammed up even further than she thought possible.

Her voice was practically drowned in embarrassment, unable to speak remotely coherent thoughts; eyes wide with disbelief. “Ob-obs-essed!? W-with what!?”

“Sex. You ponies are obsessed with it...”

“Now w-wait just a moment!”

“There’s nothing wrong with it I suppose... propagation of the species and all that, maybe a piece of wild tail... but if I had a cap for every pony that... eyed me the way you just did I wouldn’t even be here... getting stitched up...”

“T-That’s not w-what it was a-at all! I’m a p-practicing physician! I’ve never had a chance to... to see a g-griffon up close! L-let alone m-medically!”

Her stammering exclamations brought a mirthless smile on Eagle’s inebriated face, and he mused that the moonshine must definitely be working if this of all things brought a smile to his beak. He muttered in an accusing, but subtly sarcastic tone. “Riiight... Keep telling yourself that...”

Sparks looked up from her work and practically shouted in self defense, bringing a wince to Eagle’s face. “I’m serious!”

The shout brought a grim sternness to Eagle’s face as he shot his head up and spoke in yelled whispers. “Alright! Keep it down, no need to announce ourselves out here... black of night... in the middle of The Hoof of all places...”

He dropped his head back down sharply and winced from his body’s thorough thudding, but dull pain that had ebbed off for the extent of the operation. He searched his body mentally for wounds and aches but found less and less as Sparks continued to impress him with her medical skills. He raised he head slowly again and eyed her with inquisitive eyes, with a voice to match as her blush remained true. “Where did you... learn to be a good sawbones anyways? I assume your Stable... given the outfit. Never seen more than, what... a dozen proper surgeons across the wastes. Never mind a unicorn...”

The question was unexpected to Sparks, however grateful for a subject change she spoke again without cracks or stammers as she scanned his body for any missed injuries. She gestured at her unbuttoned collar as she dipped into a melancholic voice.

“Yeah, I learned in my home -that being Stable Ninety-Six as I can... guess you’ve gathered- from one of the Enclave’s practitioners there.” She tapped a hoof on her chin, thinking deeply. “Doctor Forceps was her name; she taught me everything I know, or provided most of the reading materials rather. Always was an odd ball but she knew her stuff. She practically leads the Enclave’s progress in medical research from what she said."

"I was asking about how you got your talents, not some other creature’s..." Eagle muttered under his breath, and Sparks gave an embarrassed cough.

“Well... the Enclave has great doctors, and she was assigned to inspect our medical level, ‘to tutor us’ she said. While I was put in engineering I gleaned a lot from watching her teach when I went in my free time. She even let me borrow old copies of pre-war medical books, said she was happy to help a 'young enthusiast' learn. Fascinating reads if you’ve a mind for it.

“But, yeah... I’ve taken a few classes and studied up on some books, pretty much. It, uh... did sound less meek in my head, but I think I’d make a decent nurse in the Stable..”

Eagle's thoughts trailed off into a deeper curiosity as she tended to his wounds, figuring conversation could help speed things along and focus her. He changed subjects and spoke lethargically. "So... how did the Enclave even get into your Stable? Way I heard it they stayed sealed mostly, or were stripped bare by the Enclave."

She sat for a moment building her response, going through the history she knew, which wasn't terribly much but enough she supposed. “From what I’ve read when the Grand Pegasus Enclave showed up at our Stable -up in Shadowbolt Tower- eh... shortly after our Stable got the ‘all-clear’ alert. We’ve been helping them with their techy problems in return for parts and supplies; stuff like that. But, well... according to the rumors it’s so they won't strip our home out, like you said. Have they, well... actually done that before?"

“Yeah. I’ve seen the stripped out husks in the mountains myself. Nothing but the foundations remain of some Stables, their residents scattered out to somewhere.”

“Oh my... I never thought those rumors might have been...”

The news seemed to pain her somewhat as she stopped working for a moment. She had always wondered, but figured rumor mills were naught but just that; rumors. For a Wastelander to confirm it, it made her thoughts spin. In the end she shook her head and kept working, wanting to distract herself from the news.

Eagle however coughed a little and shook his head also. She was almost finished checking him for wounds, yet one question remained among all the ones he had, but didn’t ask. “But... why study it as a unicorn? With that horn I’m sure you could magic away most wounds and hassles.”

Sparks’ expression gave a half smile in her ruminations. She gave a small giggle in response and she spoke. “Doctor Forceps asked that very same question, but, well...” she paused, her face dimming slightly in embarrassment, but she brightened up a bit and continued “I told her of how unicorn magic works -theoretically, anyway- with how spells are fickle and large scale spells cast repeatedly could cause burn-outs. I said I’d rather learn something I could do with my hooves than rely completely on spells.”

She paused for a moment in reflection before she gave a small snorting laugh. “Well... not technically my hooves I guess, but levitating small objects isn’t as taxing as larger spells. Not that our Stable had any healing spells beyond your basic magic bandaid though; not much use for them in a Stable where serious injuries were... exceptionally rare. The automated medical beds took care of most of that type of stuff anyways.”

Eagle’s expression was contemplative as he mulled over her words, her chattiness seemed to branch off of a conversation deprived filly, and it brought a utilitarian spirit to him as a question spurred; figuring to take advantage. Seriousness grew in his coarse voice that gave Sparks pause. “So... you’re a doctor, that much is clear, but what else can you do? If I’m to trudge around The Wasteland with you in tow I need to know your skills...”

“Well... hmm, I’m okay with computers I suppose. I’ve been a respectable eye-tee pony for most of my youth, but I suppose most of us in Ninety-Six are.” She paused as she tapped a hoof on her chin again in thought, trying to make a resume she though would be useful. “I’m a good repair pony, I’ve fixed a lot of arcano-tech in my time from terminals to... erm, firearms, and even did some generator work. I’m... also decent with a Flash pistol; always scored well in the firing range.”

“But you’ve never used it, in a fight.”

The comment broke her trail of thought, and she hung her head with fear that she ever would, her chances astronomically higher now out of the Stable where they were zilch. With a sudden fire her eyes shot up, her gaze wielded a blazing pride as she spoke fiercely. “And I’m proud I never have, there’s always a better way than violence.”

Eagle grimly chuckled a little at the attempt of a jab. His eyes dark and harsh looked deep into her eyes as he spoke with a voice to match. “In the wasteland, the ‘better way’ rarely leaves you alive.” His expression became gravely serious as her fire waned in sight of his sheer coldness, and it didn’t help that Eagle gave a short gesture of his talon over his tattered form, although refraining from commenting about it. “If you can’t watch my back out there I expect you to hide anytime a fight starts; which there will be. Get in my way of trying to keep us alive with some fit of a higher moral ground and you’ll find out the hard way the kind of mess you really stepped into; walking out of that Stable.”

A few moments passed as they held eye contact, and Sparks’ composure cracked and eroded under the threat. Hanging her head low she sighed subtly and Eagle shook his head with a scowl, staring off into the distance past their urban surroundings. He coughed slightly to get her attention and nodded his head at his body. “So how am I looking?”

She peered up with quivering eyes as she looked at Eagle’s face. She sniffled a little as she began to speak solemnly. “Your wounds are tended to; drinking the rest of this potion ought to finish the job...”

She telekinetically lifted the bottle she used slowly to him, about a quarter left of its gleaming fluid remaining. He took it like a shot and sat there for a moment, letting its healing aura do its work he breathed deeply, as it knitted together any wounds she might have missed. She spoke again shortly after. “I wouldn’t consider straining yourself too hard though, potions and spells are well and good but they only get you back to... hmm, roughly eighty percent... ish; give or take five or six. You could hurt yourself again pretty badly if you-”

“Staying here any longer isn’t an option. The faster we get out of The Hoof the sooner we can finish this up.”

The doctor in Sparks looked at Eagle with wide eyes as he began to stand up onto his fours from the floor smeared by his own small pool of blood, and began to stammer away at his sheer fortitude. “B-but, you can’t be serious! After that thrashing I’d tell you half a week of bed at least to make sure the healing holds! You need rest-”

“Will it hurt me to walk?”

Sparks screwed her face up and went slack jawed trying to convince him to stay put for at least a day. She shook her head slowly as she looked him up and down, and he stretched out his half-inebriated, lethargic legs. “Well... probably not, but-”

“Good, we need to move. Can’t risk any more Enclave showing up, which they will eventually since they lost a sky-tank and a whole squad of soldiers. They won’t just ignore that.”

His voice was cold and calculating, and reminded her of the soldiers; unwilling to allow moments of rest saying ‘time is of the essence’ or things along those lines. She watched as he walked towards the door and exited in practically the same manner he had before he got torn to ribbons. His endurance was surprising, and the doctor in her wondered if it was a griffon trait, or just how Wastelanders were.

She didn’t have long in her thoughts as Eagle announced loudly and firmly to her from the outside. “Alright, it’s clear. Come on!”

She sighed deeply, head hung low as she magically packed away her doctor’s bag, and stood up stretching out her own small frame; the aches of being hunched over and tending to him for hours had taken their toll on her. She sighed as she walked out of the building and looked about the town square as it was vastly different to when she first saw it and her eyes, locked in sudden terror, drifted across the carnage before her.

A sky-tank, an aircraft that she had seen many times before when given the chance to marvel at its amazing pegasi engineering, was laid out in a scraped pile of junk billowing smoke from its smoldering bones as it leaked noxious fumes as it burned. The flame illuminated the large courtyard, and it cut harsh orange silhouettes of the bodies that lay on the ground in various states of death; all but one wore power armor for what benefit it gave them.

There were perhaps six that she saw; some had their armor splayed apart in grisly jagged edges from the chests or legs, one had the helmet twisted about like how one would wring a towel with their insectoid eyes backwards, the headlamps still burning brightly but flickering in some, and another looked as if he had been burnt to a crisp, their armor’s gaping craters subtly steaming in the fire’s light as their form looked frozen in panic.

A pegasus in an officer’s uniform, the garment almost impossible to recognize, was lying bloody on the ground with his body missing entire portions of his form. His missing leg was found a few paces away and his wings were a bloody tattered pulp as if sliced to ribbons, one cut jaggedly in half and found another few paces off. His chest had a large, hoof sized hole that barreled through his belly to back with incinerated flesh ringing the edges; a discarded magic rifle that seemed to have been torn from power armor lay next to him.

Solemnly Sparks looked with terror locked eyes at the empty expression, his skin slack and lifeless, yet his eyes were bloodshot and swollen; rivulets of blood slowly dribbled from his mouth to the ground he laid upon.

The sight made her legs tremble, and she would have collapsed if not for the fact her body forced her around and retched across the ground violently, her guts churning, as she tried to process the sight. The questions raced through her mind faster than she could understand them as her body twisted her stomach like a vice, and Eagle watched the spectacle with a sort of envious pity.

It had been a long time for him since such a sight would have phased him, but he had forgotten that it had been probably only a few days since she had left her gilded cage; locked away in relative peace and comfort, never wanting for much or fearing anything worth being afraid of.

For a moment Eagle mused on the idea that any such place existed here in The Hoof at all, but as he stared up into the dark cloud smothered skies he saw with clarity the menace of the gleaming emerald city, and the large central tower that reached high beyond the clouds. ‘Shadowbolt tower?’ he remembered her say, and he pondered if even a Stable set high above the depravity below could last forever.

He tore himself away from the ruminations and approached Sparks slowly. He was going to set a talon on her back beside her but stopped short, as if his own being recoiled from the notion. Unable to do so, he spoke in his low and coarse voice, and while he tried to be tender he failed. “If you still want to keep going, all this... it won’t stop you know? Not tomorrow, and not a decade from now.”

Sparks looked up at him with her sullen cyan eyes, her brows low and her expression that of terrorized worry. She wiped her mouth with a foreleg and coughed deeply as she tried to find the words, standing in silence with only the crackling of flame behind her as her legs trembled. Eagle broke the silence again with a raised brow as he made eye contact with her quivering form. “As you said, ‘anything for home’ right?”

She blanched at the thought; was she truly ready for such a commitment, violence and death of such an unimagined magnitude as this? She looked out to see the tower far to the south, the cradle upon which her home was nestled in, and slowly nodded. Eagle gave a low chuckle as she tried to stand again, smirking as he walked towards one of the Enclave corpses strewn about. “Must be worth it then...”

Sparks shared the thought. She hoped that it would be worth it all, and all she knew was what the Overmare had told her; that it was an important exchange for the Enclave and it would be a boon to their protectors and themselves. She knew practically nothing but names and what the trade was in itself, and that it was paramount to keep it a secret.

Her education in arcano-tech sparkle power generators and anatomical knowledge from working with the Enclave’s scientists, and this... ‘Institute’ would give her Stable and the Enclave crate load supplies of magical gems for use with talismans and other things that required them, as well as technological blueprints for improved components they both could use. The trade seemed... fair, understandable even, but this...?

“I hope it is too...” Sparks said in a near whispered whimper that Eagle heard, he turned his head to speak, but merely shared in her solemn feeling. He shook his head and began a century old tradition, that of looting the dead.

*** *** ***

After a short period of rummaging through the soldiers kits, Eagle had found only a few useful things. A few spare battery packs for the energy rifles they used, the weapons themselves secured fast onto their armor, a healing potion of two, and not much of anything else. Anything of value on the sky-tank, be it rations or spare supplies, went up in flames when he took it down, and the soldiers that poured off the falling aircraft had little on their persons in the first place.

It took some convincing, but Sparks was finally able to strip a few parts from the weapons they used, high value components like focusing crystals or talismans were pried from their frames and stowed in their packs for trade. She would have argued about looting the dead being terrible, but she knew it would fall on deaf ears, and she had to force herself not to vomit again as she reluctantly touched the soldiers’ corpses with little to show for her agonized efforts. After they were done they took to the road and began the long walk north and spoke no more than a hoofful of words to each other, as the circumstances didn't spur either to conversational moods.

For the past hour in the early dawn she continued to go over her morning; the walk to the meeting place, Eagle’s battle and the operation after, the conversation they had after... even the soldiers themselves as they departed with nary a word to her. The last one bothered her, but she didn’t know if it was worth worrying over in light of the rest. She had spoken with them a good deal before, as they were assigned to escort her there and she tried to make small talk with both. The corporal was the only one who even remotely responded like just another pony, not some stone faced soldier carrying out her duties.

Sparks even thought she would have liked her as a friend if they talked more. She had a warped sense of humor, yes, but the soldier at least had some heart there. But she left, without so much as a ‘take care kid’ or anything.

The depressing thoughts were legion it seemed in her thoughts. She wanted to make the same small talk with Eagle, but found no words to fill the silence, the memory of his blood caked form still present in her mind, and they trudged on through the early morning light. The subtle but almost decaying palette of colors that filled the void as the sun rose behind the clouds still mesmerized her as she looked on mountains and clouds, the dead trees and ruins with an empathetic compassion. She wondered what it all looked like before the war, despite having seen pictures and read books on the vibrant state of things before the bombs fell.

The beauty and serenity of bright green grass with deep brown and green leaved trees bearing fruit with the bright blue sky above, warming all in its touch filled her imaginations without frames of reference; like describing color to a creature without eyes to see.

She always wondered what it would be like to actually see it firsthoof. She knew what a gleaming healthy red apple looked like, but she feared she would never taste one, let alonehold one in her hooves; cradling a little piece of the forgotten world like a precious memory she never had.

The city waned behind them, shrinking into the distance as they neared the mountain range. Occasionally Sparks would look behind them and see the city, and she shared Eagle’s contempt of it in all but experience. It may have been home to the very tower that held her Stable, but the stories of what life was like below between the Enclave's reports and typical Stable dweller fantasies only solidified the general fear of anything outside of their dwellings.

‘The Stable is your only bastion of peace and safety in this horrible world’, and so far all the propaganda she had heard turned out to be at the very least partially true. The stories the older ponies would spin, like the ground would swallow you up or the background radiation groundside being so intense it would fry you down to your bones, melting you like butter on a hotplate had been proven false by all the tests of sanity and science so far by Sparks’ own observations. Despite it all, the same tribalesce notions crept around in her subconscious like mental tumors against all logic, and she still caught herself staring up into the sky or ground, feeling uneasy there was no closer definite point to see or the mushy loose dirt below her instead of the hard pavements to which she was so accustomed.

The most intriguing thing she remarked on perhaps when she first left the Stable was when her PipBuck’s mapping spells synchronized with the soldiers’ databases built into their suits without direction to, and that was when she discovered just how vast Equestria was in comparison to her own Stable.

Outside of her Stable for the first time, below the clouds that blanketed the sky she looked out over The Hoof and saw a comparatively cosmic expanse of... almost nothing. Endless stretches of dirt and concrete ruins dotting the land before her, and it only truly hit her when she looked at her PipBuck’s map for the first time in a great many years. What she saw at first was The Hoof, stretching from edge to edge of the screen, and when she got her bearings of where the map seemed to end she panned the map out and saw that this... huge place was in reality only a little slice of Equestria; let alone of Equus entirely.

That was the first time Sparks ever felt truly daunted by anything. Her life had been comprised of only thousands of square yards of steel draped in paint and signs, and her own sleeping quarters were only a precious few of those yards. Now... now she was faced with mile after mile, days upon days of nothing; a whole world in front of her and behind. The idea made her head spin.

After a time of deep silence only held at bay by their steps in the dusty earth and moaning breeze did she get a new curiosity with her PipBuck’s features. She telekinetically pushed the ‘Data’ button on the machine, and saw in plain script along the top of the screen a feature that most ponies of her Stable used to pass the day by and took for granted; ‘Radio’. When she pushed the selector button on the tab it brought up a barrage of new stations that she had never imagined existed. Some were merely just jumbles of letters and numbers with weak signals, but others had legible names that described their functions.

The one station out of them all she saw with the best signal was called ‘DJ Pon3 Radio’, and overtaken by sheer curiosity she pushed the selector and her PipBuck burst to life with an almost alien, but beautiful upbeat music with brass horns, bass chellos, and piano that was beyond easy on the ears. The mixture performance formed a beautiful tune, with an equally handsome and suave voice to match, singing with passion and dripping affection with his words.

“...my love will bring me there soon!”

“We’ll meet, afar from the shore,”

“we’ll embrace, just as before!”

“Cheerful we’ll be, past the sea,”

“and never again, I’ll go soarin’!”

Sparks stopped in her tracks when the music slipped into an instrumental section that barraged her senses. It was... lovely, downright enrapturing even to her. All her life she had heard the fanfare and heavy brass anthems and songs the Enclave had made since they began using her Stable, and she had grown deaf to the constant ‘music’ and counted it as nothing but background noise equal to her Stables low humming generators and lights. She even caught her self subtly bouncing to the tune, her legs bending in rhythm to the beats and... dancing!

She felt a sudden joy in her chest blossom at the voice and the music entire, and a smile grew across her face for the first time in earnest since she had left her Stable.

The Euphoria was short lived however when Eagle’s body loomed in front of her. She tore her eyes from the screen and looked up at his distant, yet cold eyes as they bored into her PipBuck. He didn’t speak, but seemed to listen to the music with an all consuming focus. He let the music wash over him, as he had heard it hundreds of times before, long ago, but it never lost its affect on him.

“I know, without a doubt”

“My love will bring me there soon!”

“We’ll meet, -I know we’ll meet- beyond the shore!”

“We’ll embrace, just as before”

“Cheerful we’ll be, past the sea,”

“and never again, I’ll go soarin’!”

“No more soarin’... So long soarin’”

“Bye bye soarin’!”

When the crescendo of the song ebbed into a fading beat Sparks could swear she saw... remorse in his flat expression, and his surprisingly soft and solemn tones clashed with his gravelly voice. “It’s been... too long since I heard that.”

They stood in silence for but a few moments as Sparks’ joy waned staring at his face before the speaker gained another voice, equally as suave and smooth. The voice of a buck began with a riotous tone, drowned with happiness that overmatched the song’s energy.

“Alright Kiddies!! That, my young fillies and colts, was Fuzz Darin’, bringin’ to you ‘Past the Sea’ and singin’ to all those whose love is on faraway shores... achin' for their darlin’!”

Sparks’ eyes shot back to her PipBuck as the radio personality was perhaps the single most happy and carefree sounding pony she had ever heard in her life. Mesmerized by his passion for the song and his listeners all her focus was on the speaker until Eagle’s talon reached over her PipBuck and turned the volume knob down to levels she could just barely hear.

She looked up at Eagle with worried eyes, wondering if she had done something... Bad? ‘How could anything so beautiful be bad?’ she wondered, and Eagle caught the voiceless questions. “When we’re walking out here, the less noise the better; attracts less attention.”

He turned about and walked for a few paces before turning back with a mirthless smirk on his beak that was barely visible. “It’s a... good song though. Been forever since I heard it.”

His expression became saddened slightly, and he continued ahead as she stood there and stared long into his stride. She eyed her PipBuck again and wondered how such a magnificent song could pass as ‘good’, it was the most beautiful thing -or the only beautiful thing really- she had found beyond her Stable. She tried to listen closer to the suave voice as it chattered but to little avail, half the words lost in a low volume jumble that she couldn’t decipher.

She sighed deeply, remembering the song as it plucked her heartstrings still in memory, and she adjusted the volume knob just a touch higher before she continued her stride towards Eagle. She felt... lighter in step; with a smile gracing her lips and buoyant in stride she caught up to him without much effort, and Eagle’s stride matched his mind. Sluggish, aching from years of the same stride he always took, but like Sparks he felt lighter, if only by an ounce, in spirit.

*** *** ***

They walked for several hours more into the early morning dawn as the sun crested the mountains behind the clouds, and it bathed all in its filtered radiance that left everything’s colors dull and muted. They neared the tall and proud mountains on the northern Hoofington border, and they both looked up to their cloud scraping heights. For Sparks, the sight was impressive, like a gigantic monument declaring dominance over the land below, but for Eagle however it was another reminder of what they were both about to face.

Morbidly he pondered how they could both leave The Hoof, back to the ironically ‘less dangerous’ wastelands. He thanked whatever luck he had thoughtlessly that they had gotten this far in The Hoof without trouble, or more he corrected himself when his wounds reminded him of their presence with sudden pangs from his stride. He shook the thought and began to clinically assess how he would get out of there; the tunnel he took was not an option of course, but that left little choice but to find another highway out of there.

The odds weren’t in their favor, but Eagle was always a gambler when it came to his journeys; despite his luck at actual gambling. The last highway he wanted to use was a camp for bandits, not to mention the fact it also played as a war ground for two very different gangs. He could slip past well enough on his own, but with his new charge he now felt a subtle fear that he had forgotten; one that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The fear of leading another, to whatever end they might meet out in The Wastes.

He shook the thought and assumed a stoic, stony face as he did what he had always done before. He told himself that he would cross that bridge when he got to it -to ‘wing it’ again. Sparks saw his conflicted expression and strode up beside him and spoke with concern. “What’s wrong Eagle? Something the matter?”

Broken from his contemplations he peered to his side with a raised brow and saw her anxious expression. He turned back to watch the path ahead as he muttered in a low voice. “Nothing, just making sure we get out of here in one piece.”

The simple and abrupt explanation didn’t sate Sparks’ curiosity, but when nothing more came from him she looked back to the path along with Eagle and listened intently to the DJ as he went on at length of news about places she had never heard of before, small details filling the void of the new wide world she now inhabited. She waited for another song to grace her ears though, despite her curiosity of the outside world, and eventually one came as they trod on.

It was sad, slower in beat than the last, but the strange mixture of brass horns and bass chello mesmerized her all the same. A different voice, but still impeccably suave and easy came and strum her heart like he was singing just for her own ears, and while he showed no reaction, Eagle took in the tune along with her.

“The Summer breeze, came easin’ in...”

“From across the sea...”

“It lingered there, to touch your hair...”

“And to trot with me...”

They both eased into the rhythm as it plucked away at their feelings. Sparks bathed in the new music that seemed close to divine as she subtly bobbed to the tune, yet Eagle...?

If he hadn’t shed his last nearly two decades ago, the song would have driven him to tears as it brought memories of home. He simply trod on, as he always had done, walking in solemn steps with a stoic face of coldness as sparks of emotion smoldered inside of him again. He almost had her turn the radio off, but... part of him enjoyed the music that he had missed out on for years too much to do it. He merely suppressed himself as the song continued, and ended.

“The autumn breeze, and the winter breeze...”

“They have come and gone...”

“And still the years... those lonely years, they go on and on...”

“And presume who sighs his lullabies... through eventides that never end...?”

“My capricious friend, the summer breeze...”

“The summer breeze...”

“Warm summer breeze...”

Footnote: Red Eagle Expansion pack loaded, level cap raised to 30!

Sparks level 2! +21 skill points! Perk earned!

Healer (1): After your first real doctoring experience you got to chance to see how you could use them! This perk will increase the number of Hit Points healed by the use of First Aid or Doctor skills by 5-10 points (1d6+4).

Next Chapter: Chapter 8: Counting bodies like sheep... Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 9 Minutes