The night was kind of a blur after we returned to Junction 11 in triumph. The moment we approached the front gate again they knew that fantastic display of explosive force belonged to us and they hailed us as heroes. It was…odd to say the least being the subject of praise and adoration again after decades of being reviled for my association with the Order. The entire town was woken up from the blast (and probably even as far away as Paletree) and so we spent our first hour back shaking hooves and enjoying the praises of this small town. Stallions slapped us on the back, mares batted their eyes and cheered while the foals...just ran around like the bunch of chaotic little demons they are. For a moment there…it almost felt like the far-distant past when Steel Rangers received this kinda treatment on the regular from civilians anytime we were around them in public. In armor at least, they only tended to recognize particularly famous Rangers out of steel.

The townies all crammed themselves into every available space in the shoddy two-story bar and the booze flowed like water for a good few hours as everyone celebrated our victory over those bandits. It was sure to set Lager the barkeep back a few months on her supply but she didn’t seem to mind at all as she gave refill after refill to all who came asking. In particular though, it was mostly just Firefly as he had found his whiskey heaven for the night with several brands to choose from. Me? Well…I had a few shots of course, mostly to appease everyone around me, but with my size and weight it would have taken half the bar to get me shitfaced drunk. (Which was the point of drinking wasn't it?) However, the moment I saw the Sheriff pull out a long wooden pipe and a nice fat bag of red and yellow nugs of Red Berryl…I just couldn’t resist that particular temptation to take a few puffs for myself.

Unlike alcohol, Red Berryl was particularly potent for Gryphons and was referred to as Katzenminze. While it was also the name applied to the common plant known as ‘catnip’, it was not without reason. It gave a nice hazy high for ponies and the like, but amongst my kind it acted as a fairly strong narcotic inducing a high that could only be described as a mixture of shitfaced drunk and high as balls. Not only that but in at least ¾ of our population it also acted as a pretty strong aphrodisiac which made for some pretty lewd get-togethers and fun stories. After a few long drags of the sweet pineapple flavored smoke…time and memory almost immediately lost all meaning and past that? Well…let’s just say I didn’t even notice passing the fuck out or hardly anything that happened between those first puffs and the moment I woke up the next morning with Firefly asleep and snoring on my chest. Not only that but my feathers were all out of place and my fur felt…sticky. Some of it was definitely dried sweat but there was something else mixed in that was a lot slimier and left an uncomfortable mess of my lower body.

“Oh fuck…” I chuckled to myself the moment the smell of jizz hit my nose, knowing full well what must have happened. “Hope I didn’t hurt him…wonder if it was you or me who started this…”

“Nnn…huh…?” Came the mumbled response from the groggy, messy Ling on my chest who I couldn’t help but give a nice tight hug to. After all…once you’ve fucked a friend, the relationship tends to evolve into something a bit more than that and I felt genuinely happy to have him near.

“Mornin’ sleepy head!” I laughed softly, feeling myself nuzzle his black and green cheek softly with my beak.

“Mmff…th’ fuck happened…? Ow…th’ fuck? Mah ass fuckin’ hurts…”

“Ummm…” I laughed sheepishly as he looked up at me. “Yeahhhh…about that heh…”

“Uh…Garand? Are yew holdin’ meh?”

I let go instantly with a blush, feeling more self-conscious than I expected being so close to him and not knowing how he was going to react. Oh Gods I hoped he didn’t consider what we did to be rape…

“Did Ah say tah lemme go?” He smirked, winking up at me cheekily with his odd milky blue eyes and glowing black face. “Get them talons back on mah body now big guy. Ah like th’ feelin’ quite ah lot.”

With an even bigger blush I held him in my arms again, tentatively putting my hands on his back to which he sighed happily and seemed to melt a bit against me in a surprisingly adorable way for such a grizzled Bounty Hunter. This was…kind of a new sensation for me. In the Stable, bedding ponies and Zeebs down had been kind of routine; a way to blow off steam with your neighbor and work off some of the boredom of being trapped underground for so long. It was there I first discovered there wasn’t much of a difference between fucking a gal or a guy and both brought their own fun to the table letting me add the term ‘bisexual’ to the list of shit people know about me. But…something I never actually experienced there was a sense of deep connection to someone after the fun was over and it was time to clean up and move on with the day. And yet…here I was, sharing a rickety bed that was too small for me with a Changeling Ghoul feeling a stronger emotional connection with him in less than a month than I had with any of the mares or stallions of 39. Did I love him…? Maybe? Really more in the sense that he was something more than a friend rather than something like a potential nestmate. Even as a friend with benefits though, I certainly felt happy to have him around. Happy, upbeat and very satisfied.

“Ya know, when ya said yew swung both ways…guess Ah didn’t expect ya tah swing mah direction.” He said after a few moments of hugging me close and nuzzling my chest feathers in a very affectionate manner.

“Heh…neither was I to be honest…” I admitted, wondering just how long we went at it as I could feel some definite soreness in my hips, legs and abdomen. “Sorry about your ass…”

“Oh don’t yew worry about it!” He replied with a grin of his perfectly white teeth. “Ain’t nothin’ Ah ain’t been through before heh, heh. Although…gotta admit I don’t remember anythin’ abou’ it. If mah ass has any say in it though…yer a hung stud.”

I blushed even harder in embarrassment completely unprepared for just how bashful I felt in this situation. Had I any intention on fucking him? None that I was aware of… And yet, here we were, post-orgasm and cuddling. There were so many questions unanswered here and I felt flustered in a way I never expected to feel. However…what I could feel was the cold trickle soaking my belly fur and the undeniable feeling of…affection? Gods my life was starting to get weird again… Maybe not in a bad way for once though.

“Heh…well…I’m seven-feet tall, what do you expect?” I laughed sheepishly. “The bigger the species, the bigger the dick. Just kinda how it works, can’t blame me that I’m this way.”

“Hey, Ah ain’t complainin’ and Ah ain’t blamin’!” He laughed in response, surprising me even further by kissing me on the beak and trying to move a bit. “Mmmf…damn. Feels like ah helluva mess down there big guy.”

“Sorry…”

“What’s there tah be sorry about? Ah like gettin’ dicked heh, heh. Sex ain’t no squeaky clean operation! Although…Ah think Ah need ah hoof cleanin’ up down there…”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” I replied, feeling like my face was going to explode from how hard I was blushing as I gingerly slid myself out from under him and laid him down onto the bed.

The poor thing was a mess in more ways than one. Sheets and pillows were scattered across the small shabby room like a whirlwind had gone through and the stained mattress was now sporting a large new one to add to the collection. A few new ones it seemed… And Firefly…seeing him outta armor gave me an appreciation for just how much light his body emitted as the ceiling and walls nearby were lit up in a soft green glow. Of course, seeing him outta armor also gave me an appreciation for his body in general; well-toned muscles crisscrossed with battle scars filled the bulk of his weirdly soft carapace that at once was both like and unlike a normal pony body. It felt tough, like a plasticky leather stretched over muscles but most of his body was kinda pliable and soft. He also had shimmering iridescent bug wings that likewise pulsed with glowing green blood while his hooves were filled with holes typical of his species. And then…there was his poor ass that was the cause of the mess. My mess…

“Just use one of th’ sheets…” He chuckled, flinging his odd membranous tail over his back showing off the thick goopy whiteness dripping from his ass. “An’ enjoy th’ view heh, heh…”

I cleared my throat bashfully and set about mopping up the cummy mess I had left him with needing half the poor bedsheet to get as much as I could. All the while he looked back at me with a big grin on his face and rewarding me with a few moans of pleasure as I wiped his ass clean like some sort of foal. There were Changelings in the Greifenländer, just like there were amongst any of the major Sentient species of the world, hiding in plain sight and taking on many aspects of their ‘host’ species of choice. While disguised it was nigh-on impossible to detect them, even with magic, but while in their native form it was easy to tell them apart for being black, bug-like versions of Gryphons with colors and features that seemed shared across the species. That being said however, I had never seen any of them before in person both back home or in the time since leaving it. At least, none that I was aware of as like most Hives they chose to live among us as anonymous citizens. To see one in its native form, at least one in an Equestrian base form, was a new experience but that didn’t mean I was turned off by what I saw. At the very least, he could be called ‘exotic’ or ‘something off menu’ but really, it can also be interpreted as just good, old fashioned ‘fun’. Especially if he could still shapeshift after the Ghoulification…that opened up some interesting maybes for the potential future.

When I felt I had done a good enough job mopping up, I just tossed the soaked sheet on the headboard and helped him get to his wobbly hooves. The sun started poking through the window on the far side of the room meaning it was much later in the morning than I expected as the damn thing had colossal mountains to climb over. We had enjoyed our time here, that was for damn sure…but it was time that we got ready to go and hit the road. Every hour we stayed was an hour closer Grigori got to Outpost Zeta and…well, that was the entire fucking reason we were here wasn’t it? Sure we had saved the town from some dumb little shits, got high and fucked but in all fairness we had made good time to the area and could afford a few lost hours. Besides…it was hard to deny that I didn’t need it a lot more than I realized and I felt more refreshed mentally and physically than I had in recent memory.

“Goddamn…” Firefly mumbled as his hind legs wobbled and shook like he were in an earthquake. “Yew fuckin’ destroyed meh! Like…damn!”

“S-sorry…again…” I apologized sheepishly as his curved horn lit up with his sickly green magical aura, his saddlebags floating over gracefully into his waiting hooves.

“Ah shut it, Garand…” He laughed pleasantly, pulling out a bottle of magenta healing potion and taking a short drink before sighing happily after a couple moments. “Mmmf…all better! Ain’t had tah do tha’ fer a good few years now…”

“Oh…? What do ya mean?”

“Eh, every now n’ again Ah gotta pop one o’ these tah get meh back on mah hooves afta a good fuck wit’ some big cocks. Consider it ah damn good compliment! Not every biggun is ah fun one!”

“Heh…if you say so…”

Within a few minutes both of us were dressed in our respective gear having stripped naked sometime during the night and tossing our shit everywhere around the room. My Power Armor awaited me downstairs, sitting just outside the door to the bar and once we had determined nothing was stolen or left behind, we went downstairs to speak to the barkeep and get started on the last leg of our journey. Being a 24-hr bar, there were still a few patrons seated at the various tables around the joint along with the stench of booze and sweat from the party the night before. Far from pleasant but…the smell of old cum wasn’t much better and I was gonna need a good bath as soon as I found a good body of water to enjoy.

“Well, if it ain’t the lovebirds!” Lager giggled as we approached the shabby bartop she stood behind, a long ledger of all that had been drunk sitting in front of her with a stubby pencil. “Surprised to see you two up so early after last night. Can only guess what kind of a mess you two made…”

“Sorry Ma’am…” Firefly apologized with a blush, straightening his bush cap and biting his lip. “Was…kind of ah blur wha’ happened last night…”

“Oh don’t ya worry one bit about it, hero.” She winked, putting three bottles of orange-brown whiskey on the bar top and pushing them in his direction. “We’re used to the ceilin’ creaking and shaking around here. Them bedrooms are there for that purpose after all heh. Wasteland is fulla ponies that wanna fuck and get fucked so we cater to ‘em as well. Pays damn well and Gods know we got plenty of bucks in this town who want some action. That’s what they’re for!”

In the corner of the room a group of mares and a couple stallions dressed enticingly waved with smirks and winks as Lager pointed in their direction. I vaguely remembered one or two of them from the night before but as far as I could tell, I hadn't taken a single one of them to bed. I knew Berryl made me one of the ¾ who got bit by the horny bug so…I was surprised I was able to resist the temptation they offered and only fucked Firefly. I could only assume that with all my inhibitions gone…I somehow came to the conclusion that I wanted to be fuckbuddies with him and decided to go for it right there and then. Still wasn’t complaining though, there were literally thousands of less-than-desirable desirable soldier types out in the Wastes and it made no sense to complain about my stroke of luck.

“Still…sorry…” I replied, wishing I had my full PoA helmet on just to hide my poor blushing face from sight. I wasn’t used to feeling embarrassed like this…

“Think nothin’ of it!” Lager replied with a grin. “It’s obvious you two have somethin’ for each other so why should I judge? A big ol’ bird and a Glowin’ Bug…definitely ain’t a normal couple but hey, ain’t nopony round here that’s gonna bitch about it. You two did this town a hell of a good thing so who are we to tell ya what ya can and can’t do in bed together?”

“Damn straight!” Firefly chuckled, depositing the whiskey into his bags before asking, “So…abou’ our reward…”

“Oh don’t worry about that!” She laughed, pointing towards me. Or more specifically my PipBuck. “I told ya two soon as ya came in here and told me and the Law what you two did to them vagrants. Pointed it out on that fancy computer thing of yours and everything.”

Like most of anything that happened last night, I had trouble remembering this but took her word for it and brought up the map feature on my PipBuck. Within a quick glance I found the custom marker which pointed directly to a specific part of the Ember foothills only fifteen miles or so away. Just to double check, I had her come from behind the bar and look at the screen just to make sure I had the right area. For all I knew, stoned me had thrown a dart at the board and picked that location at random.

“Yep! That’s more or less where I remember seein’ it!” She beamed, pulling out an old and fading map of the area from a drawer nearby and pointing to a little circle in pencil she had made in the same general area as my map marker. “Been a good while since I’ve been out that way but I found it when lookin’ for some Molerats with my husband. Ya know…back before his ass ditched town with that fuckin’ Silver Road Caravan who offered more adventure than a little backwater town like this offers. Of course, didn’t actually walk up that road since them mountains could be hidin’ anything but lemme tell ya, it was big. Ain’t no small mountain path, that’s for sure. Was really more of a road than anythin’. Could haul a couple wagons side-by-side up that thing and still have some room to walk between and around ‘em. If that’s anything…it’s something important and probably has something to do with your little scavving place.”

“Thanks…” I replied distractedly, mentally connecting the dots with the road I had seen in the overhead GIMP map that had allowed me to locate the place to begin with and feeling grateful to have come across someone who had found something similar.

“If you fellas don’t mind me askin’...what exactly are ya lookin’ for in them mountains? Sheriff said somethin’ about an old world building or whateva.”

“Yeah…something like that.” I said evasively, not wanting to expose Outpost Zeta overly much to these ponies who wouldn’t value it to nearly the same level I could. “The Steel Rangers are looking for it too and we’re trying to find it first. Hopefully we can take some of them out too but I’m making no promises. Seems like a large group so it’ll be tough either way.”

“Well damn!” She laughed, putting the map away and locking the drawer with a key. “From one good deed to another! If those steel assholes want it then it's gotta be somethin’ special…I’ll forget I ever saw the thing and pretend it never happened.”

“Tha’ there is fer th’ best…” Firefly responded with a nod of approval. “Ain’t want any o’ yew ponies gettin’ hurt so stay far away from there. We got it handled.”

“Well given how you wiped those other Tin Head fucks from off the face of the map, I’d say so!” She laughed again, rearing up to kiss both of us on the cheek in thanks. “Go gettem boys! Give ‘em hell and thank you both from the bottom of our hearts for savin’ our little town from them assholes. It’s quiet around here and that’s just how we like it!”

And with that, we left. The town was quiet in the early morning sun with blinds and curtains drawn over the windows of every shack we could see. My Power Armor stood exactly where I remembered leaving it the night before and popped open immediately as I approached, my PipBuck sending a signal based on my intention to enter it. Once I was safely back in hermetically sealed steel, we made our way towards the gateway leading outside. While the guards on duty heavily protested our intention to leave them so soon, they knew better than to try and force us after the crater we had left in the Wasteland and reluctantly opened the sliding doors to let us exit to the open desert. We promised to try and return someday if time and circumstances permitted, which was really the best we could do. Whether or not we actually would was up for question but…I had to admit the idea of getting the heroes’ welcome, even from a rinky-dink little town like this, was a tempting idea. Could only hope Grigori bypassed this place and hugged the base of the Embers as soon as they broke through the Gap on their mad dash to find the Outpost.

With the NER inevitably coming to grips with what had happened, they would be making moves of their own very soon and with all the fury they could muster. Before long the area was going to be another Battle of Sandy Beaches although I had my doubts about the NER’s likelihood of kicking the Order back across the Gap for a second time. The first time around they had three-times as many troops in the region with their Veteran Rangers punching holes in T-45 Power Armor with Barnette .50s and 20mms doing the real damage to the Order. Unfortunately, with the previous thirty-years’ of relative ‘peace’ between the two factions, the NER had finally begun to ease its watch on the Gap and send its best troops North to explore the Duchy of Crystal. Of course, this was all happening just as the Order was reconsolidating its power after another Schism that had seen another two minor factions break away from the Seven-Chapters.

To explain all this to Firefly was…kinda difficult as he seemed to view the Steel Rangers as all being one in the same group of violent assholes. It was hard to blame him when, at the end of the day, all these groups used similar weapons, Power Armor and tactics to the next with the only distinguishing features being purely philosophical sometimes. Subtlety had its place but when it came to potentially violent tensions between splinter groups, it would be easier if some of them were more transparent and clear on what the hell they stood for and against. Some groups remained loosely allied to us but preferred doing their own thing while others were our sworn enemies, seeking to replace us and our ‘heretical’ ways with whatever bullshittery they pulled outta their ass that time around. Annnnd then there were the batshit insane ones that were a danger to anything and everything caught in its way including themselves. There was a lot of diversity to those wearing PoA back East and it was starting to become more and more noticeable in how these factions painted or otherwise modified their equipment to make sure they didn’t mistake a Brother in Steel for an Oath-Breaker or Outcast. Or really any number of names or terms they all used to refer to anyone who wasn’t part of their own army.

“So…yer tellin’ meh tha’ th’ SR ain’t one big group of assholes?” He replied after we started setting out into the open desert outside of town where we could discuss this stuff more freely. “Tha’ ain’t how th’ Republic talks about ‘em…ah Tin Head’s ah Tin Head and that’s tha’. Ain't no mo' argument needed, just ah .50 Big Mac AP-I n' ah clear line o' sight.”

“Well…yes, but also no.” I corrected. “The main Order itself, the ‘original’ as far as they are concerned, is split into Seven Chapters spread across the whole of the East from the Crystal Mountains to the Ponyrennes and each is led by a Field Elder. They’ve all worked mostly independent of the other but reported major incidents to the High Elder in Salt Lick City. Major incidents for example, like the murder of the Baltimare Chapter Elder five years ago by a splinter group that call themselves the Iron Crusade. They're one of the most zealous of these splinter groups and literally worship Pre-War tech as some sort of sacred god or spirit or...something, I don't know. Came across some sort of 'Holy Relic' and just up and shot their Elder over it because he wanted to transport whatever it was to the High Elder as ordered and some of those fuckers all of a sudden decided that now it was time for a good, old fashioned violent coup.”

"Fuck...somethin' like tha' would be sure tah lift some Republic spirits knowin' shit like this is happenin' East o' th' Gap. Wha' happened after they shot th' Elder? They take over Baltimare?"

"Nah...they tried but at the end of the day those in on the group psychosis were still outnumbered by loyal Rangers who weren't exactly fucking happy their best Elder in sixty years had just been shot by his own personal guard."

“Damn…so…how strong is th’ SR as ah whole? Ah get th’ feelin’ not nearly as much as Ah think they are.”

“Another loaded question…” I laughed grimly. “Lemme put it to you like this: when I left six months ago, we were just starting to recoup our losses from the Schism. Sooo…at the moment, basically they’re at their weakest but are still too strong to lose any significant territory. Except for maybe our beef with the Gunners, they’ve managed to put up a legitimate fight out East. Hell, that’s kinda putting it lightly…they are probably the one faction the SR worry about outside of the NER.”

“Oh? Think Ah’ve heard o’ them around th’ Syndicate Bars but not much else abou’ ‘em. They any good like the Talon Company? Helluva name, ‘Gunners’. Bit boring but...eh, tells ya wha' they're all about so Ah can't nick 'em fer beatin' around th' fuckin' bush about it.”

“Heh, yeah I’d say so.” I laughed in response thinking about how much trouble they caused for both the Baltimare and Manehatten Chapters. “They outright own Stalliongrad, which sits right between Manehatten in the North on the old border with Griffinstone and Baltimare to the South near the mountain pass into Northeastern Mareseilles. City used to be a major sea port with a massive set of fortifications around it and lining the coast ending at two major rivers that acted as bridge crossings between the other surviving portions of the Great East Wall. Eight years ago they just suddenly appeared within the city…rose outta the fuckin’ sewer system from multiple points all decked out in Model 3s and 4s and hauling the kind of firepower and training needed to kick us and all the other gangs in the surrounding area out. Took us by complete surprise and they made the most of it…nopony had any fucking clue there was a fuckin’ Stable deep under the city. Well…another Stable I should say. The Chapter had found an abandoned Stable built under a random hill outside the city that was still in decent condition but there was absolutely nothing in it but a decapitated puppet of Princess Celestia. This other Stable had to have been right under the city itself, probably somewhere in the old metro system that had mostly caved in during the Great War.”

“Ah Stable huh…? Fulla wha? Goddamned Commandos ‘er somethin’?”

“Well, the one the Baltimare Chapter found was only by chance. Even though they have a whole detachment of Scribes with full access to StableTec HQ in Bostang the place had been hit pretty hard and the database was mostly FUBAR. To make a long story short, the Gunners were originally a bunch of descendants of Pre-War military types. Lived, breathed and fought like the General Army Corps of the old days from generations of training and biding their time with mounds of equipment and ammo to start and finish a small war. Now…they control the whole of Stalliongrad and about twelve-thousand square miles of territory they’ve clawed out from under both Chapters. They’ll hire anyone who wants to join them who has beef with the SR and shows some serious balls which…isn’t exactly in short supply over there with how tough shit is nowadays. They’re the strongest Company in the East and we learned to stop fucking with them only around five years ago after refusing to take a hint like we should have. Like the NER, they learned that Barnette rifles are one of the best counters to Power Armor and the false sense of invulnerability it gives ponies who low-key think they’re demigods or some whacko shit. Krie only knows what that Stable was doing with so much fucking weaponry and trained soldiers but they put their biggest and baddest ones to work.”

“Them rifles are ah goddamned blessing…problem is, all them NER Vets wit’ .50s n’ 20-mils are up freezin’ their balls off pokin’ their way into th’ Crystal Duchy. Ain’t gotta be ah genius tah know that ain’t good fer th’ Gap no matter where th’ hell th’ SR decide tah hit. Like Ah told ya before, most o’ th’ muscle been peeled off n’ sent North far fuckin’ away from here…”

“Speaking of the Gap…” I sighed, coming to a stop to get our first tactical update of the day. “Gimme a bit, I wanna take a look at the map and make sure the map marker is dead-on so we don’t waste time wandering around looking blindly. Oh, and I wanna see the latest GIMP upload too so we can estimate how much time we can take in getting there. With a Platoon of Steel on the warpath, the path of destruction they make should be pretty easy to spot from above. Timing's right for them to have hit the Gap by now given Dodge Junction isn't all that far away from here.”

I pulled up my PipBuck’s map on my HUD and then overlaid the latest updated picture from the GIMP while Firefly slowed to a stop beside me. With her marker narrowing down the area I had to search, I almost immediately spotted the road seemingly emerging from between two twisted ravine walls and set the new position for our marker. ETA? Three-hours tops seeing as it was mostly flat terrain between here and there with some rolling hills and dunes in the way. Taking a little extra time, I scrolled around the map N/NE of our location spotting Appleloosa quickly as there were smoke and blast marks that would have been really hard to miss. Firefly had mentioned the old town several times during our hours on the road and none of what he said gave me any reason to care for its well being like I had with Junction 11. To think that the hillbilly R&R headquarters of the South would have gone from an amusement park for bored soldiers to acting as one of the largest Slaver operations in the West…well, I just didn’t wanna think about it. Whatever had done a number on the shitty little town, I thanked it for taking some names off my shitlist, be it Sentient, Feral or otherwise.

Looking further East, I spotted the Gap of Canterlot acting as the official border between the East and the West nestled between Mounts Everhoof and Jasper; the endcaps of the Canterlot and Ember Mountains in the North and the South respectively. Every ten-miles in the space between the two peaks were NER outposts with lone watchtowers of their own construction every five; all of them occupied and decently armed/equipped to some extent or another. They took advantage of old infrastructure left over from the Great War and repurposed the many toll stations and military checkpoints that had been installed there for a similar purpose over two centuries before. The line of readily visible fortifications and patrol routes made an unending border lasting around 100-miles keeping the Order stuck in the East. A…border with several plumes of acrid black smoke of its own near the foothills of Mount Jasper on the Ember half of the Gap. Wonderful…

“Well…not the best of news.” I finally said after spending some time analyzing the details and making guesstimations, Firefly taking time to eat a bit while he waited for me to finish. “SR have breached the Gap about sixty-ish miles to our Northeast and they hit it like a fuckin' bomb went off.”

“Ain’t surprisin’...th’ force as big as ya guessed?”

“Well, the GIMP follows an orbit directly above me so I can only really see anything in detail that's within fifty-miles of my current position. Makes it handy for shit that's nearby enough to be a problem but it's still a pretty narrow field of view given how big the Continent is. The overall image taken is a bigger area but the camera can only zoom-in on that small area to show any meaningful details. They definitely moved hella fast, I remember checking this thing on our way back from blowing those fuckers to the moon last night and I would have noticed a Platoon of Steel with a couple of Falke IIIs kicking up dust with them. Whole two-mile portion of the border is up in smoke behind them, must have hit them in the middle of the night and wiped out any immediate backup sentries. Even with a couple Ranger Vets with 20s the border guard would have had a hard time against a full frontal assault from that much heavy armor.”

“Th’ hell’s ah Flackie?”

“A what now…?”

“Yew fuckin’ tell me!” He protested, looking confused and annoyed. “Ya said somethin’ abou’ ah Platoon o’ Tin Heads and ah couple ah Falackie whatevas.”

“Falke…” I sighed with a groan once I realized what he was so blatantly mispronouncing. “It’s Greifenländer for ‘Falcon’...it’s one of the class names of Gryphon war vehicles. A medium tank to be exact with all of the scary connotations that come with that kind of description.”

“Huh…glad yew know wha’ they are then…” He chuckled nervously, starting up with me as we set back out on the trail again. “Ain’t nothin’ tha’ fancy o’er here. Republic would make damned sure everypony knew they had workin’ war machines like they did when th’ first Mr. Guts robots n’ shit hit th’ fronts. Wha’ are these things like anyway? Anythin’ in particular Ah should be expectin'?”

“Heh…well, for starters you should expect something we definitely need heavy ordinance for…” I laughed bitterly, thinking about how I had foolishly turned down a perfectly good Dart-88 with a copper shaped charge missile. “Imagine an armored carriage that moves around on its own with the whole crew safe inside, can be operated by anyone with the proper training and has a goddamn 50mm cannon in a movable turret with a couple of machine guns thrown in for an extra ‘get fucked’ message. We’d need something like the AMR-25 to even have a chance at punching a hole in the armor from a safe distance and even then we’d be better off with a couple of Darts and some HEAT missiles just to make sure we did enough damage. They don't like to go down easy and tend to take more than their share to the grave with them. Well...with the right crew operating it that is, if you've got a bunch of dumbasses at the wheel then they're more of a menace to themselves than anyone else. A good crew can put more weight in dead bodies in the ground than how much iron was mined out of it to forge the steel that made the damn things.”

“Damn…they sound almost more scary than Athena…” He replied with a bit of a grimace. “Ain’t sure Ah get tah say tha’ often.”

“Heh, you say that but…I’m not sure I agree. I’ve seen Kampfwagen in action plenty of times and even the first-generations of them were tough nuts to crack while throwing back a good fight of their own. I’d be very afraid to try and take even an indirect hit from a third-gen Falke armed with a 50-mil loaded with APCRs or HEs. If they were bringing along something like Würger half-tracks or Turmflake lightweights I wouldn’t feel as worried because those have guns I can be less careful around. No clue what the limits of the T-60 are but I don’t have a full set of pieces let alone ones made to fit my size. Hell, all of what I do have of it is MIG welded together which kinda diminishes whatever the normal tolerances are for this shit. I know it's almost pure Celestium Steel plate but there's no hard data for what it can and can't take under normal circumstances.”

“Ah hear ya…they don’ sound like shit we should fuck wit’ in th’ open, tha’s fo’ sure.” He sighed, continuing his earlier grimace. “Wonder if Athena could though…Ah mean, it’s got ah massive round! Big ol’ fuckin’ barrel n’ everythin’! She said she's killed Tin Heads in the past and Ah think Ah believe her. Th' gun speaks fer itself.”

He held up his hooves trying to give me a rough estimate of the large round in question and showing me a gap of around seven-ish inches. That…was concerning, so I had to be sure exactly how big this gun of hers was. The T-51 was rated up to 20mm AP and High-Explosive Anti-Armor; at least for the 20x84s used by the Zeebs after they debuted their first AMR above .50 caliber. The T-60 pieces, being Celestium and ceramic, would undoubtedly take them just as well if not better but still…I wasn’t above being cautious when it was my life and bodily comfort on the line. I was against a supposedly legendary Marksmare with a (most likely Equestrian) Anti-Machine Rifle after all. They had been made to punch holes in Zebra combat bots which I knew from experience were tough shits to put down needing twice as much firepower needed to take down most living things. While I had never seen or heard of an Equestrian AMR of any model being used or even tested against Power Armor of any type, it didn’t take a genius to get a little nervous about the unknowns here. Reason number one? The Barnette B1 was chambered in 20x102mm. A little over ¾ of an inch more space to pack with some extra powder making for a faster projectile which was just what armor penetrators needed to punch through thicker armor. Of course, this was all assuming she didn’t have the B1’s bigger, meaner older sister, the AMR-25 which would be just my luck… Not only was it more powder but it was also a noticeably bigger round with more space to cram nasty shit into.

“Can the barrel be recessed into the main body of the rifle?” I asked, knowing the answer but needing the confirmation all the same. “You know, collapse down into the main body of the gun to save on size?”

“Sure can!” He chuckled sheepishly, biting his lip nervously as my worst fears were confirmed. “Still ah bulky gun but damn does she roar like ah thing o’ beauty. They got this one test at th’ Hotshots competition where gunners wit’ big ass guns can try tah shoot targets through walls n’ shit. Ain’t nothin’ she couldn’t shoot through…n’ wha’ didn’t get hit dead-on got hit by shrapnel n’ fire. Girl’s got a lotta options fer her gun tah shoot shit up wit’. Honestly th’ judges wanted tah ban her from participation ‘cause it was seen as unfair, even usin’ basic APs so she stated usin’ th’ .50 Big Mac upper fer her rifle.”

“Well…fuck me in the ass with a fuckin’ cactus…” I sighed in frustration. “The bitch has a fucking 25mm Phoenix in this fucking day and age and nobody ever fuckin’ talked about it back East. Well ain’t that just fuckin’ wonderful…anything else I should know about this psycho chick with a fuckin’ portable cannon? Aside from the fact she is a danger to life and limb and I don’t wanna test how good my welds hold against that kinda firepower.”

“Well…fer starters, she ain’t ah psycho. Least nuthin’ like Queen at least…ain’t one fer talkin’ much or groups but she ain’t ah ChemHead or ah cannibal so don’t go thinkin’ she’s one o’ them freaks. She gots some fuckin’ NER Veteran Ranger lookin’ armor but hopped up on Buck n’ steriods. Ah mean, yew see th’ oldest Vets wearin’ mismatched M-CAP 4A n’ C pieces on top o’ their Black Armor but hers looks like it’s all original hardware. Definitely ah fancier helmet than anythin’ they got…honestly looked like th’ Black Armor if it had ah 4C heavy version an’ came wit’ ah leather duster instead o’ the canvas n’ Kevyarn ones they make outta Shady Sands. Ah’m talkin’ full matchin’ set wit’ desert camo n’ looks like it can hug ah .50 and come out smilin’.”

“Wait…so it’s as heavy as the 4C but isn’t the 4C?” I asked in disbelief as this was sounding more and more like the Mrk. IV version of the Ranger-series of armor.

“Yup.” He grunted, eying his own armor with a bit of a frown. “Just as much armor as ah 4C heavy but ah totally different design tah th’ 4s outside o’ wha’ she added on. Definitely looked custom fit tah her though…girl can move like lightnin’ n’ wrastle down anypony alive. Plenty o’ shit she keeps on her rig though Ah really only know of ah couple o’ N99s, tha’ big ass rifle, ah funky lookin’ sword and ah biggg ol’ black revolver tha’s as weird as th’ rifle. Ain’t neva seen one like it but it ain’t no slouch, even without ah scope. Crazy girl has ah scope th' size o' mah leg fer her rifle but shoots her wheel-gun wit' buck naked iron sights.”

“Oh really…? Weird how?”

“Well…fer one, it’s ah damned big girl, ‘specially fer ah pony-sized gun. Prolly big enough tah give yer wheel-gun ah run fer its money.” He replied, holding out his hooves again to measure before jacking my revolver out of its holster and using it for reference instead.

“Sooo…more ‘er less th’ same length o’ barrel but hers is ah whole helluva lot wider. Like one o’ them bull-barrels yew see on them fancier .44s sometimes but like…even thicker if yew can believe it. Breaks open like ah lil’ pocket revolver but she ain’t shootin’ no spitballs like ah fuckin’ .32…thems were th’ big lever-gun bullets. .45-70 Celestia…like one of th’ Ranger Sequoias th’ Vets earn after fifteen-years wit’ th’ Rangers. Ain’t look anythin’ like ‘em but it damn well shoots th’ same damn bullet! Ah would know.”

I cursed under my breath a bit, the more I heard about this bitch adding more and more credibility to the reputation she seemed to have in the area. The biggest question that had no easy answer was whether or not my patchwork T-60 parts could handle the ferocious bite of the 25mm Phoenix. The 10mms, the sword and even the .45-70s would be firmly stopped by even the few T-51 pieces I had left. Despite the price on my head being double if I was taken in alive, I sure as fuck wasn’t going to make that option easy which could make taking me at half-value a more appealing option. All she needed was a HEAA or Discarding Sabot right to the neck…ugh, I didn’t want to think about that possibility. If we could make it into the Embers, we could better control the terrain and have a better chance at limiting the usefulness of her rifle and egging her into a close-up brawl. Still, we had at least a three-day head start on her which was some breathing room we needed in order to take care of the SR before getting distracted again.

”You think she's one to kill and take half-pay?” I asked him honestly as he was literally my only source of info on her. “Or does she go the extra mile for the Contract bonus?”

He looked at me and shook his head with a sigh. “Yew mean Athena? If th’ price is right an’ th’ challenge worth her time, she'll think twice ‘bout turning ya into a pile of gore. At three-hundred thousand caps…well, th’ price couldn’t be more right at tha’ high ah numba. Fuck, maybe we can convince her tah not take ya in. Ah mean, she knows abou’ meh…well enough tah know Ah’m ah stallion of mah word. Maybe Ah can get her tah give yew ah chance tah talk yer half o’ th’ story. She knows well as anypony yew can’t eva trust th’ SR…she must think they’re good fer th’ money at tha’ high ah price.”

“No fuckin’ way they would be.” I snorted with a bitter laugh. “It’s like yanking fur from the balls trying to get your paycheck every month from them. The fuck makes you think they’re gonna cough up a middling fortune to a bunch of ponies they genuinely believe are beneath them? The Order is obsessed with keeping the ranks as pure to the original founding bloodlines as possible and only a few ever allow for Outsiders to be allowed to join. All that to say, they won’t even pay a wet fart to get their hooves on me and they’ll lie all they need to in order to make whatever deal they need to to get what they want with every intention of cheating their side of the bargain from the start.”

“Tha’...might be hard. Even fer them.” He replied with an odd expression on his face. “Syndicate…reason they could organize th’ whole West ain’t just because they got th’ caps tah rival Mr. House and th’ Stirrup. Them Shadow Brokers o’ theirs, th’ guys n’ gals tha’ run th’ whole damn thing…each one o’ them strong as ah fuckin’ Ox in them scary Dark Magics yew hear about sometimes. If th’ Order wants tah tempt ah War they ain’t gonna win, they gonna get one fer damned sure. Thing is, Ah dunno if Athena knows tha’ ‘er not…ain’t like th’ SR been makin’ deals wit’ th’ Syndicate fer years now and few in th’ network go out East tah know what y’all Tin Heads are about these days. Y’all got ah reputation out here fer damned sure…th’ Syndicate will take whateva th’ fuck th' Tin Heads say wit’ ah cup ‘o salt.”

I sighed and out of stubborn habit checked my revolver, making sure I had topped off my cylinder from the night before using the old-fashioned loading gate to slip a few of my precious remaining .454s into the empty chambers. I had specifically requested the ability to reload Unforgiven by either using the loading gate for one or two spent rounds or by removing and replacing the mostly empty cylinder with a fresh one. I had six cylinders in total, three of the spares kept fully loaded for quick-use attached to external magnets on my left cuisse while the other two were on the belt of the tactical rig on my person for when I was out of armor. It was outdated as fuck, arguably slower than a swing-out cylinder/speedloader method and I fucking loved it for it. Four of my spare cylinders were originals with enchanted engravings that refused to fade that matched those I ordered etched on the gun while the other two I had made myself from scratch; the results of a dozen prototypes as I tried to find the right steel to lathe and drill from scraps. Playing with my gun helped calm me down funnily enough and after another sigh I continued speaking.

“Gods I fuckin’ hope so…the SR are stubborn bastards, something that definitely has never changed from the old days. They’d sooner put a bullet in all of us, including the Hitmare, than have to actually pay someone they’ve never heard of before for bringing them a traitor to the Order. Far as they’re concerned, treason breeds treachery so everywhere I go is ‘tainted’ by my actions and everyone I meet is guilty by association. Let's hope her brains haven’t rotted out her asshole like everyone else's and that she’s open to some kind of diplomacy so I can try to talk some of the logistics to her that she might not be aware of. What are the chances of her just attacking both of us outright? You’re traveling with me, does that make you a target too like the SR would or is there more nuance to that sorta shit out here?”

“Oh, yew mean meh?” He shrugged, looking rather unconcerned. “Naw…Ah ain’t on anypony’s shitlist tha’ matters an’ ain’t got ah direct beef wit’ th’ SR. By our rules it ain’t until Ah fight her on yer behalf tha’ Ah become ah target too. Not ah fan o’ th’ idea but…Ah’ll put mahself between ya two tah give ya time tah speak. If this was Kay Q again…well…let’s just say tha’ in some ways it’s better she ain’t th’ one on yer tail no more.”

“Take your word for it then…” I said as I noticed Firefly staring at the forearms of my Power Armor with interest and a bit of confusion. “What? Somethin’ wrong or…?”

“Them symbols on yer armor, th’ hell are they for?” He asked, pointing at my bracers which were engraved with neat lines of Greifenländer Runes that ringed the entire cuff.

“Ohhh…thought you were gonna ask more about the arcane welding tool I keep in that bracer.” I laughed. “Shows how long its been since I’ve thought about those…”

“Ah know betta than them just bein’ there tah look fancy. There’s ah air o’ magic around ‘em of some sort…Ah can feel it in here.” He said, pointing to his curved, slightly gnarled horn. “Spill th’ beans, bird. Wha’ kind o’ magic are they?”

“They’re just a type of Gryphon magic called ‘Megin’ in the Old Tongue.” I explained proudly, holding up an arm for him to take a better look at my handiwork on the engraving. “These Runes can represent both words and objects in our ancient language and let me use Gryphon spells without needing special wands, staves or Rings like Equestria and the Griffins experimented with. They are both prayers to the Gods and a means to channel their magic which differs based upon the spell and which God it’s associated with.”

“Uh-huh…” He hummed, the wheels turning a bit on what probably was a brand new concept to him. “So…is it…ah religion ‘er ah school o’ magic?”

“Kind of a mix of the two?” I laughed apologetically as my culture was unusual to most people who bothered to ask about it. “There are many Gods in my homeland and they play a large, indirect role in our everyday lives. We…’worship’ them, to use an inaccurate but equivocal term, in what we do for a profession and any hobbies we enjoy. Finding a sense of contentment or happiness in what you do for a living gains you favor by whatever God is associated with that job or hobby who in turn can enhance your ability to perform in those tasks. Warriors who love battle can get increased strength or summon ethereal weapons while in combat, healers can perform far more effectively in their spells, smiths can gain insights into materials just by touching them, scholars can gain intuitions on specific interests…the list goes on for quite a long fucking time. There is something for everyone so all members of society can contribute to the world in some way or another. Not always for the better but we learned a long fucking time ago that fighting amongst ourselves in clan wars was a great way to hold ourselves back from what we could accomplish. As great as the spells we used back then were, they were still pretty primitive and relied more on brawn over brains. Once we started to come together to work with our brains is when our species rose to greatness. And no, I'm not just saying that out of rosy nostalgia. The Greifenländer was a truly majestic place and Gryphons are a strong, powerful and talented race. Our magic is a large part of how we were able to do it.”

“Damn…tha’...” He stuttered, blinking repeatedly and looking dazed. “Uh…wow.”

“Heh, sorry…bit wackier than the normal inner Aura thing or tapping into wild magic and shit isn’t it? But, I can’t say it’s bad because of it. If anything, the Greifenländer is heavily reliant on our old traditions in order to maintain…well, what makes us so unique.”

“Y’all are plenty unique…” He laughed with a grimace. “Wha’ makes yew guys different from th’ Griffins we all know ‘round these parts? Ya know, aside from th’ size n’ magic…”

“Well, you kinda helped transition me into the subject on your own soooo…thanks heh.” I replied with a smile, the steps taken fading into a familiar rhythm as we endured the monotone dunes of sand and dirt. “They emigrated to this Continent about ten-thousand years ago since the Griffinstone area was relatively similar to the climate back in the Greifenländer and they just wanted something new. Thing is…being physically removed from the homeland removes the very unique magic we coexist with back home and as time goes on, they started getting smaller and smaller. Both in average size and strength as well as in their capacity for magic. Cut back to even when I was born in the 1970s, Griffins were beyond a doubt a distinct species from us. Similar in a lot of ways, yes but…common’. They kept most of our love for working with our talons but the magic they use, excuse me…some of them use, is much more Equestrian than anything. I can still tap into the power of the Gods over here even if it’s not as strong this far from home but the Griffins? I honestly wonder if they even have enough of our genes left in them at this point to be ‘pure’ enough to even be recognized by the Gods. Generations of breeding with Equestrians and being exposed to your magic has made their spellwork much more like yours than ours.”

“Ah see…well, what are ya fuckin' waitin' for! Show meh!” He exclaimed with a grin of interest. “Woulda neva thunk yew birds had yer own fuckin’ magic…”

“Well, we don’t exactly like to flaunt it…” I chuckled sheepishly, sitting back to give me plenty of balance as I raised an arm up with open talons. “I’ve got a few to choose from but I’ll only let ya see one of them for a bit. It’s considered an insult to Krie to use his power outside of combat and I don’t like advertising I even have access to it to begin with. We don’t do it back home and I sure as hell ain’t gonna break that taboo here…that sorta thing has consequences.”

“Yup, well don’t waste no more time n’ show meh damnit!” He laughed, standing off to my side a bit with a grin of interest. “Ain’t ev’ry day ya get tah see somethin’ like this!”

I rolled my shoulders and took a moment to close my eyes and focus a bit. It was my own fault that I had wandered a bit in my commitment to Krie as doing acts of combat in his name was how he preferred his ‘worship’. I had done plenty of it back in the day when the Zebra-Equestrian War had been going strong but being cooped up in 39 had taken a toll on my ability to keep up with it. Endless days spent underground with little to do and few ways to have a good fight outside of the handful of people willing to hit the Stable gym to go a few rounds in the boxing ring they had. Being with the SR gave me more action but I knew better than to show off Megin spells in front of any of them. The only reason they had let me into the Order to begin with was thanks to Elder Lion Heart taking a liking to me after doing a few favors for them once I had made contact with one of their fringe patrols. Had I tried to join even five years later, I would have met Grigori as the Manehatten Field Elder and things would have turned out far differently. If I had known the SR were in more than Manehatten, I might have gone to one of the closer cities they controlled rather than haul ass across 800 miles of Wasteland that I wasn't really prepared for but only survived thanks to my Power Armor.

“Well?” He asked after a patient thirty-seconds of waiting.

“Shut up, it’s been awhile…” I growled, angry at myself for being out of practice which was exactly what I needed to use one spell in particular.

With some potent anger to work with, the Runes around my right bracer glowed a soft orange as a similarly orange flame sparked into existence in my open talons. The small orb of flame flickered and waved as it floated several inches above my palm and brought back good memories from a time two-hundred years ago and about sixty-miles South. It was…kinda pathetically small compared to the fireballs I had been able to hurl like candy against the Zeebs but Firefly was thankfully delighted all the same. I tossed it from hand to hand for a few moments before letting it die out with a silent thank-you to Krie for not cutting me off entirely.

“Well Ah’ll be damned!” He chuckled with a fangy grin. “Ain’t tha’ somethin’ else! Ah bird who can make fireballs in his goddamned talons like Ah Unicorn.”

“Heh…that was nothin’ compared to the shit I used to be able to cast back in the day but thanks, heh.” I laughed back feeling a bit more of that embarrassment from earlier. “A lot of the spells we used back before I came over here with my Squad weren’t so physically oriented as that one. Really, unless you were a solider or were involved in something pretty physical like mining, smithing or farming, most of the spells you would perform would be pretty intellectual.”

“Oh yeah? What ya mean by tha’?” He asked sincerely, keeping pace right beside me as we began again towards the foothills of the Embers near the marker on my map.

“Eh, basically unless you’re a soldier or the like, the spells most people perform are ones that either perform some specific task like healing or sewing, or, open up the mind to…inspirations. Soldiers can use spells that increase strength, pain tolerance, perception and plenty of other physical enhancements but there’s also more primitive spells that can summon weapons made of arcane energy directly into our talons on command.”

“Huh…sounds handy! Always havin’ ah weapon on hoof tha’ nopony else can use ‘er even see before it’s too damn late…wha’ kind yew got, eh?”

“Heh, sorry Firefly but I can’t say.” I replied with a hesitant laugh. “Already kinda shared a bit more than people back home would be comfortable with me sharing with an outsider. Nothin’ personal…just…another taboo I know better than to provoke for too long. ‘Tickling the Feral’s Tail’ as we said back home.”

He looked understandably disappointed but thankfully didn’t bitch about it or press me for details, simply nodding and responding, “Aight…tha’s fair. Things like tha’ about mah people Ah don’t wanna talk abou’ either. Thanks fer sharin’ anyhow! Tha’s some nifty shit yew Gryphons can do!”

“Thanks, it’s nice to get some compliments for once from someone.” I grinned, slapping him a bit on the back.

“Hey, Ah like tah be honest.” He grinned back, blushing softly in his glowing cheeks. “Saves meh ah lotta trouble tha’ comes from lyin’. ‘Sides, wha’ does ah Hunter got in this life ‘cept his word n’ his balls?”

“Heh, well prolly some good armor and weapons so he can do his job and not get his ass fucked in the not so fun way?” I suggested with a smirk.

“Well if we’re gunna add shit on like tha’, how ‘bout ah big, handsome fuckbuddy?” He retorted with a smirk of his own.

“Uh…yeah.” I chuckled sheepishly. “I mean…if uh…that’s what you want. I mean, not for nothing but we were both fucking wasted last night…I was worried you might think I took advantage of ya for that.”

“Aw shut it.” He chuckled softly. “Ah thought yew was ah good looker fer ah bird but Ah ain’t neva thought Ah would end up takin’ ya up th’ ass…but, can’t say Ah ain’t into it now it’s all said n’ done. ‘Course…takes two tah tango as they say, yew down tah explore this ah bit mo’?”

It was a far cry from the craziest thing I had ever done, even sexually, so…what the fuck? Was it a ‘relationship’? No…no, I wasn’t cut out for one of those sappy things but this? Kicking ass with a genuinely cool guy who knew his shit with the option to occasionally fuck him senseless and get some tastes of what a relationship has to offer? I mean…I’d have to be a complete idiot to let the chance go to waste. He seemed to like being around me and was going to be tagging along for awhile anyway so why not make the most of a happy chance meeting?

“Fuck it.” I replied with a grin at the Ling who grinned right back up at me. “I’m down for a bit of exploring.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 8: Echoes in the Mountains Estimated time remaining: 3 Hours, 11 Minutes