Fallout Equestria: A Cut Above
Ch 14: Merry part, and merry met again.
I woke up to an empty room. Blinky was gone, as was Lyrical. I threw on my armor, wondering what was involved in seconding to the Talons. Would there be a ceremony? Would there be an initiation? Those could be dangerous and difficult, depending on the group. Stickbird was leaning in a corner and I felt a tension in my heart ease as I slid the weapon into its familiar position.
I pondered on that and on Lyrical's words last night. I felt like I had done her a wrong, but I couldn't put a hoof on what it was. I thought I had been treating her as a person, capable of making her own decisions and setting her own path. In a certain light that could be taken as not caring for her future, that was true.
Emotions were tough. I grumbled as I wandered through the building, making my way towards breakfast. I didn't think this was a 'mare thing', not really. But it felt good to say it.
Mares were crazy.
Well, it wasn’t as good to say it when I knew it was a mask over confusion and concern. Helped a little though, to be silly.
The cafeteria was humming with activity, ponies and griffins talking happily over their breakfast. I didn't even draw notice as I moseyed up to the counter. A chunk of wall greeted me. The pony was massive, and where Brick was muscle or Root was fat, this stallion was just all large. He was a dull red mass, with a mop of brown mane perched atop.
"Is good morning, small pony! What are you wanting to be your breakfast?" The wall boomed happily. I stared in awe.
"What's good, mister…?" I asked.
"Everything is good, little pony! I am happy to being Blunt Force, and I have many good foods. For pony, I have hay fries and wheat cakes, waffles and hash browns. And have stew!"
I blinked into the blast of the huge pony's enthusiasm. This was a lot to take in, before breakfast. "What's in the stew?" I managed.
"Stew is good! Has potato, wheat, and bacons. Bacons is good for pony, makes strong. Like me!" Blunt Force smacked himself in the chest with a hoof that appeared bigger than my head. The dull thump echoed in the cafeteria.
"That sounds… good. Can I have a bowl, please?" Blunt Force nodded once, then whirled to the colossal pot behind the counter. The clatter of cookware and crockery heralded the arrival of a bowl of stew, which I took gratefully. Blunt Force tucked a spoon into my armor, and I made my way to an unoccupied table.
The stew wasn't just good, it was wonderful. Thin but rich, the potato base supported the bacon like a mother's embrace. The wheat gave the whole thing strength, and a sense of lingering warmth. All too soon, it was gone. I was feeling much better now, wide awake and ready to face the day. I returned the bowl and spoon, getting a wave from Blunt Force, and trotted off. Lyrical had to be somewhere.
Wait, she would have had breakfast too, right? Blinky would have been hungry, even if she wasn't. I turned back to the cafeteria. Blunt Force was behind the counter, humming happily as he chopped at something.
"Excuse me, Mister Force?" I asked. The pony flicked his head, tossing the knife upwards. I watched it with wide eyes as it arced over his head, landing point first in a cutting board.
"You good pony, you had stew! You call me Blunt, is good!" he boomed. I shook my head in shock.
"Uhh, OK. I can do that. Blunt, did you see a mare this morning, a cream mare with a green mane? She might have had a molerat with her." I asked.
"Yes, is seeing young mare, she is having waffles! Waffles is good, but you have to put the syrup on them as well as the butter." Blunt said the last quietly, as if it was a secret. "I saw molerat, too. He have the hay fries, and I give him bacon!"
"Great! Did she say where they were going after breakfast?"
"Yes, Blunt is giving mare directions to training area, is in north west corner of place. Just inside wall!"
I thanked him and trotted off, making my way towards the northwest corner of Shattered Hoof. The shade inside the wall was a welcome change from the bright sun, and I wove my way in and out of its coolness as I went. The crackle of gunfire came to my ears shortly, and I homed in on it. The sound led me to a low building, grey and squat. Ponies and griffins were working in a courtyard before it, practicing with melee weapons of all kinds. I paused to watch a mare in some sort of flowing strip-based armor attack a training dummy. She hit it with a quick punch combo, then whirled. I couldn't help but admire the swing of her armor's skirt as she planted her forehooves and blasted the dummy into splinters with a powerful buck.
"Enjoying the show, boy?" The mare snarled. Breathing heavily, she stomped over to me. I plopped down onto my haunches, waving my hooves excitedly.
"Yeah, that was awesome! That combo was just way quick, and you have a LOT of strength in that buck! What's your armor called, the strappy flowy thing is really cool."
"What." The mare stopped in front of me, panting. She was a pretty tan color, with a dark red mane and tail. I gave her my most winning smile.
"Did you see a cream mare with a green mane and a molerat come through here?" I asked. The mare blinked at me in confusion.
"Yeah, she went inside to talk to Bolt Action." The mare said. I popped back to all four hooves and nodded.
"Thanks!" I said, then trotted off.
"Losing your touch, brightflank?" I heard a male voice say behind me. A meaty smack followed, and I couldn't restrain my chuckle. Whoever that was, I hope he enjoyed getting beaten up…
The gunfire got louder when I entered the building. A bank of lockers and a pair of bathrooms occupied the sides of the first room, and a low counter ran to a door on the far end. A pony slouched in a chair behind it, reading a magazine. I trotted up to him, and he pushed a pair of earblooms across the counter.
"Name?" He said, not looking up from his magazine. Guns and Ammo Quarterly, it looked like.
"Wicked Cut." I replied. The thunder of gunfire was sporadic, but unceasing. I felt my ears pin to the back of my head in frustration. I shuffled uneasily. The sloucher flipped a page in his magazine.
"Rank?"
"No, I showered yesterday." I snapped. That got the desk pony's attention, and he put his magazine down and sat up straight. Looking me over curiously, he reached slowly under the desk with one hoof.
"Hey Bolt, could you come in here?" The desk pony said loudly. I grinned, showing more teeth than was precisely necessary.
"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe he isn't as bad a slackass as you." I said. Desk Pony flinched. The door swung open, and a dark blue unicorn came out, pausing to pull a pair of earblooms out in a glow of magic..
"Who's a slackass? And who are you?" he asked. I nodded to him, keeping an eye on Desk Pony.
"My name's Wicked Cut, I'm a tribal that just got here with Engineer and Hellen. This guy didn't even think a strange pony walking in was worth putting his magazine down."
"Huh. Colt, what do you have to say to that?" The blue unicorn asked. Desk Pony cringed in his seat.
"It's a fair enough statement, sir. I screwed up." He replied immediately. The blue pony shook his head with a sigh.
"Colt, you're back on kitchen patrol as of this evening. Try not to mess up the rest of my day, if you could be so kind."
Desk Pony twitched, drooping. "Yessir." He muttered. The blue pony nodded once, then turned to me.
"Wicked, right?"
"Yep." I replied. The blue pony replaced his ear plugs and floated a set from behind the counter to me.
"I'm Bolt Action. Throw a couple of these in and come on back."
I took the earblooms and shrugged at Desk Pony. Screwing them into my head I followed Bolt through the door. With a pair of the squishy plugs in, the gunfire was a lot quieter. The next room was interesting. A long counter divided the room, with partitions futher dividing it. Targets hung in the open space past the counter, and ponies stood behind it, shooting all sorts of guns. Lyrical was there, ripping off short spurts of gunfire from a stubby little weapon. Her gun made a final clack sound, and she pointed it at the floor before turning.
"Hi, Wicked!" She almost yelled. Her eyes were bright and her hair mussed, the very picture of excitement.
"Hey, Lyrical. You having fun?" I asked. She passed the gun off to Bolt, who had a wide grin on his face.
"You bet! I'm learning a lot, too. The Collegiate doesn't know anything about guns compared to the Talons." Lyrical said. She was smiling brightly and glowing with her morning's work. She leaned forward and nuzzled me, which I returned with my own smile.
"Stands to reason, I would think. Where's Blinky?" I asked. Lyrical nodded to another corner, this one on the back wall of the gun range. Blinky slumbered on a duffel bag, a set of earblooms sticking out of his head comically.
We spent the rest of the morning training and learning about guns. Lyrical fell in love with the weapon she was using when I walked in, which turned out to be a submachine gun. I actually learned enough about guns to load one, put some holes in a paper target, and even clear a jam!
We left the gun range about noon, Colt Steel taking our earblooms and signing us out. The poor desk pony looked miserable, and I made sure to give him my best grin. I tried to be a nice and good pony, but some folk just deserved to get messed with.
We were headed back to the bunk room, still excited from the gun range, when Engineer flopped out of the sky. The old griff groaned as he stretched, and we greeted him happily.
"Eeeehhh, I'm getting too old for all this here and there." Engineer grumped. "Wicked, I've got a recruiter waiting to talk to you."
"About seconding?"
"Yup. He has the contract and everything. What about you, Lyrical? Do you have any plans?" Engineer asked. She shrugged, as we walked along.
"I'm thinking of signing up." She admitted.
"What, as a second?" Engineer asked. I smiled, nudging her. She flicked me with her tail before replying.
"Nope, as a full Talon. The Collegiate sees me as disposable. Worse, they lied about it. The Talons are honest."
Engineer fell silent for a few moments, chewing on that. I couldn't help but smile. Lyrical didn't have the anger or hurt in her voice that she'd had last night. I wasn't sure where this path would take her, but she was confident and certain that it was something she wanted to do. That was good enough for me.
Lyrical peeled off to go to the medical area and visit the slaves, leaving me and Engineer to make our way to the recruiter. That turned out to be a dusty blue unicorn, frazzled and work weary in a tiny office. He was busily packing a saddlebag when we entered.
"Hey Dotted Line, I brought Wicked Cut here." Engineer introduced me, before plopping into one of the two chairs on our side of Dotted Line's desk.
"Ahhh, the tribal who's caused such a commotion." The unicorn said, dropping into his own chair. He pulled out a clipboard with a stack of pages on it, and dropped it on the desk. "This is the normal seconding contract. The way this works normally, I have some preliminary questions, which I use to fill in the sections on your compensation rates and duty classification. You get to read the contract then, and if you agree to it, you sign.” Dotted Line said. He was obviously saying well practiced lines, but he still kept looking to me to make sure I understood.
Dotted Line paused, glancing at Engineer before addressing me again. “You can read, yes?”
I grinned in reply, answering in the affirmative.
“Good to hear, you’d be surprised how many folks can’t. I’ll move right into the ‘few preliminary questions’, then?" He asked. I shrugged, pulling out the other chair and easing myself into it.
"OK, go ahead."
"Why do you want to associate yourself with the Talons?" He asked immediately.
"Medical support. One of my tribe members lost his tongue, and Doc Stitch has a procedure that should replace it. Or at least stands a good chance to do so." I offered.
"And you expect the Talons to do that for you?" Line responded.
"I expect to make enough on the upcoming Horn over Hoof gang mission to pay for it."
"Campaign, actually. It's going to be several missions, almost guaranteed." Engineer put in.
"Fair enough." I said. Dotted Line made some notes on another clipboard, and looked back at me. He gave my equipment a quick once-over, peering at Stickbird curiously.
"Interesting. That's a spear of some sort, I take it?"
"Yessir."
"So you're a melee fighter. Look like a lightweight, a skirmisher instead of a bruiser… hmm hmm hmmmm. How long can you run?"
"A couple days. Depends on how much I'm carrying."
"ahhh… good, good." Dotted Line's pen flew over the paper in his magic, scratching notes and numbers onto the page. The unicorn ignored me for a few minutes, writing away on his pad.
I shot a questioning look at Engineer, who shrugged in return. We waited patiently while Dotted Line changed pages, and filled out some sort of form. He whipped the form off his clipboard, tossed it into the other clipboard, and shoved that one across the desk to me.
"Read this."
I did. There wasn't anything scary in the contract, except for some of the provisions of the criminal justice system. I was already somewhat familiar with that process, but it was a little intimidating to put myself under its authority.
The pay scale was interesting. I would be paid a wage for any time I spent actively working with the Talons, and I could claim wages for time spent ‘Acting specifically and clearly in the Talon’s interests’. Interesting turn of phrase, that was. While I could draw equipment from Talon armories ‘within reason’, I would have to maintain it and pay for it myself, either out of my wages or my personal finances.
On the contract went, covering three main sections. What I owed the Talons, which was service in the military sense of the term. Dotted Line had stapled in a subsection indicating I was a ‘skirmisher/scout’, and detailing what I would not be expected to do. I was glad to see that section! The Talons used the line of battle on occasion, and that was not a thing I was comfortable considering. The second main section was all about what the Talons owed me. It was smaller than the first section, but... denser, if that made any sense. The command and control support was actually really important, from a combat perspective. There was nothing more useless than a mess of warriors in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The section concerning what the Talons owed me was interesting. I was fairly familiar with the medical support structure already, but I still felt a thrill as I considered bringing Strongback in to be healed. The pay subsection was interesting in that it kept repeating ‘when contact with the paymaster can be assured’. I paged back and forth through that part to confirm what I thought I was reading.
“Dotted Line, this seems a little weird. The Talons aren’t obligated to pay me unless I’m in contact with the paymaster?” I asked. Dotted Line looked up from a stack of papers he was reading through and nodded.
“That’s to allow for people who are completely out of contact for long periods, who live weeks or months of travel away from any sort of Talon presence.” Dotted Line said, poking at relevant sections. “Where do you live, anyway?”
“About five days run away, more or less.” I replied. Dotted Line nodded.
“That’s relatively close, all things considered. And that puts you two or three days away from the Alkali Lake facility. I suspect that’s going to be a fairly significant Talon outpost, once everything shakes out.”
I pondered that. The desalinization plant wasn’t that far away from Our Tacksworn. The only reason we hadn’t at least investigated that place before was the desert. That wouldn’t be a barrier if we knew there was something for us on the other side. Commerce... not my thing, but this looked like a prime opportunity for somepony.
I spent a lot of time thinking lately. The last section of the contract went into detail about the Talons military justice system. The penalties were mostly administrative, decreases in rank or punishment details. Unless you hurt someone, then things got painful for you. Murder of a noncombatant was punishable by death. Flat out in black and white.
I was actually happy to see that. Discipline meant a lot of things, almost all of them good. Both for the common fighting pony and the people they had to work with. Discipline was the difference between a ravening horde of raiders and a good bunch of ponies.
The contract was excellent. There was a clear enough statement of required duties that I didn’t feel like I was stepping into the unknown. There was a clear enough statement of the Talons’ obligations that I didn’t feel like I was being sold. And the support structure... the medical.
I signed the contract with a confident stroke, and tossed the clipboard to Dotted Line.
“OK, Dotted Line. What next?”
“That’s it. You’re seconded to the Talons, now.” Dotted Line said with a smile. He set his clipboard down and opened a drawer on his desk, pulling a token out with his magic. The token was slightly smaller than a hoof, brass with a lanyard to wear it around the neck. A stylized griffin graced one side, her talons clutching a gun and a sword. The other bore lettering, clean stamped lines that read “The holder of this token is seconded to the Talons” followed by a number.
Clean, simple, and straightforward. I liked the Talons a lot, and joining them was going to be a grand thing. I tossed the lanyard over my head and let the token thump against my chest.
“Sounds good to me, Dotted Line. What now?”
“Now you get out of my office, and I finish packing. I’ve got to get to Alkali Lake and crush the Collegiate… With paperwork!” The unicorn grinned fiercely, and I returned his smile. Engineer left the office, muttering about paper warriors, and I followed him into an uncertain future.
A future which involved yelling at a wrinkled old pony, trying to make myself heard over the screeching howl of strange tools doing loud things to pieces of metal. Engineer had guided me to a building near the gun range, the armory. The noise had started as soon as we went inside. Engineer, wincing in the barrage of sound, had taken off. I followed his instructions and went through a lobby into a back room. The layout was almost identical to the gun range, but the lobby was empty. The noise was considerable even in here and nearly deafening when I opened the door into the back room.
Arcane machines loomed in the dank space, whirring and grinding away at bizarre tasks. One of them was the source of an almost incredibly loud screeching. I felt my ears snap back, which helped a little. Approaching the noisy machine I could see a cylinder of metal being spun against an unmoving blade. There was an oil bottle sitting next to it, and a few squirts cut the screeching to a bearable level.
“Thanks boy, that old cutter needs more oiling than it ought.” A voice said. I turned to see a grizzled old earth pony. I had no clue what colors he was originally, grey under grey was all he had left under the oily stains splotching his hide. “Let’s go up front and talk, youngster.”
The old pony dropped himself into a battered old chair with a sigh, kicking back and putting his hooves up on an equally tired desk. “Now, how can an old pony help you.?”
“I’m not sure, actually, mister…?” I asked.
“Daisy Cutter at your service, youngster. What do you mean you’re not actually sure?” The stallion asked, a scowl on his face. In the background, the scraping sound kicked up a notch.
“I… uhhh… “ I trailed off, scratching my head. “I just signed a seconding contract, and my friend Engineer brought me here. He never told me what I was supposed to actually do here.”
“Ahhh, a fresh second,” Daisy said. The scraping got louder again, and the old pony’s scowl deepened. He leaned forward, beginning to push himself to his hooves. I turned and made for the door, calling over my shoulder.
“I’ve got it!”
A few squirts of oil later the turny thing was back to its normal noise, and I returned to the front. Daisy was watching the door, stroking his wispy beard. He nodded as I came through the door, hooves comfortably up on his desk.
“Thank you, lad.” Daisy Cutter said. “I don’t suppose you’ve worked with a lathe before?”
“Errr.. what’s a lathe, sir?” I asked. The old pony chuckled quietly.
“Well, I suppose I couldn’t be that lucky. You interested in learning the fine art of machining, lad?”
“Sorry, sir, I… “ I shrugged nervously. The whole whirling metal thing seemed dangerous and uninviting to me. “I’m really attached to this campaign, actually. I need the money to get my friend healed.”
“Well, that’s a good enough reason, I suppose. Machinists assistant doesn’t pay that much, anyway.” The old pony sighed, and clambered out of his chair. Making his labored way over to a rack of lockers, he popped one open with a practiced kick. “Your friend brought you here for a basic kit.” He grumbled, peering at my armor and weapons. “Most of which you don’t need.”
Ah. It made a lot more sense now. I nosed through the locker. There was a set of Talon barding, flat black and menacing. I considered it for a long moment, then moved on. There was a nifty matching helmet that I set on the floor. A set of saddlebags held some healing potions and field supplies, those went on my back behind mine. A rack on the back wall of the locker held several small guns. I recognized some of them, vaguely. Nothing seemed preferable to my good Stickbird.
There were a few more weapons laid out on the bottom of the locker, a set of brass hoofshoes and some intriguingly spiky bits. I flicked one up and bit down on it. Interesting. I tucked it away in my saddlebags.
“I think that’s it, Mister Daisy. I’d rather keep my own armor and weapon.” I told the old stallion.
“That’s alright, kid. I’m-”
Daisy was interrupted by the door swinging open, Engineer pacing in, followed by a subdued Lyrical.
“Ah, how’s my favorite flower?” Engineer said. I jumped as Daisy kicked the locker closed.
“Less good than before you came in, you cranky old feather duster.” Daisy growled, approaching Engineer. The griffin posed, clasping one paw to his chest.
“Oh, oh, take thy withered beak from my heart, oh devil!” He squawked dramatically, before embracing Daisy. “How’s the kid?”
“He’s good, got a real good attitude on him. Shame he doesn’t have interest in metalworking, I could use a sprightly lad like him.” Daisy replied, breaking their hug and heading back to his desk. Engineer followed, and Lyrical trailed behind him, staring sullenly at the floor.
“Hey, Lyrical, what’s wrong?” I asked, taking a moment to tie the Talon helmet onto my barding. Blinky kicked the helmet as I worked with it, rolling off my back to waddle over to Lyrical and pat her nose.
“I can’t sign up.” She said.
“What? Why?!” I asked. While Lyrical wasn’t the best fighter I’d ever met, she was smart and driven. The Talons would have done good to snap her up.
“She’s got to wait until the recruiter gets back, he’s off on a mission.” Engineer put in. The screeching sound picked up again, followed by a massive shriek of metal on metal.
“Oh horseapples!” Daisy swore, galloping through the door to the back area. Swearing came through the door, muted as it swung back closed. Engineer chuckled, taking the old stallion’s chair.
“It’s not that bad, really. Lyrical’s brilliant, and if she isn’t the best fighter now, we can fix that. The Talons will snap her up as soon as they can.”
“So, Talon recruiting’s just one guy?” I asked, bewildered. I didn’t see how an organization as large as the Talons could have completely shut down its recruiting efforts.
“About seven or eight ponies and two griffs, actually.” Lyrical said. She was starting to look scowly, but at least she was paying attention to Blinky, rubbing his pink head. The molerat’s whiskers twitched happily, his eyes closed.
“All of which are going to be a big part of the campaign against the Horn over Hoof gang.” Engineer said. I blinked at him, completely confused. The door opened, and Daisy backed through. The old pony angled his way through the door, turning to reveal a twisted chunk of metal. He dropped the wreckage on his desk, glaring at Engineer.
“Ye get your daft feathery self out of my chair, now.” He growled. Engineer came out of the chair laughing. Daisy resettled himself, but eyed Lyrical instead of putting his feet up. “You, young miss.”
“Yes sir?” Lyrical asked, looking up from Blinky.
“I heard you were planning on enlisting with my Talons, ‘s that right?” Daisy asked.
“Yes… but I can’t, until the recruiters are back.” Lyrical said. Her voice was still subdued, but even and firm.
“Ahhh, they’re sending the ponecatchers in… Are these slavers, then?” Daisy asked. Lyrical nodded.
“The Horn over Hoof gang. Unicorn supremacists, slavers. Do nasty things to their slaves, take their tongues out.” Engineer put in, idly toying with the twisted metal on Daisy’s desk.
Daisy laughed, a short bark of sound. “The recruiters will clean up, there. ‘ol Doc Stitch got that Hydra thing working?”
“Yeah, he did. It’s not perfect, but it works. I need that for one of my friends at home.”
“Well that all makes sense, then. The recruiters are gonna be busy as lambs at shearing time, helping all those former slaves. You’ll get your turn, lass.” Daisy said.
“What do you mean, busy as lambs? You’ve never seen a sheep, you goat!” Engineer crowed. The two older ponies cracked up laughing, and I looked at Lyrical. She was staring intently at Blinky, and I could almost hear the gears turning in her head.
“Anyway, anyway… What’s the plan for her while the recruiters are off?” Daisy asked. Engineer shrugged griffishly.
“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to go north with Wicked, I’d like her to come with.” Engineer replied. Daisy clutched his chest, slumping in his chair and flailing his free foreleg.
“Yer killin’ me, Engineer Grimfeathers! Killin’ me, I says! Takin’ all the best and the brightest, leaving me here to slave my hooves away, ‘tis a travesty!” Engineer laughed, long and loud. I chuckled myself, and even Lyrical was hiding a smile. Daisy stopped flailing and almost bounced out of his chair, trotting over to kick another locker open. “Here you go, lass. Kit yourself out and be safe on that trip.”
The locker he’d opened for Lyrical had much the same assortment of items as mine, and Lyrical set Blinky on my back to browse through them. She came up with a helmet and a submachine gun, a squatty black shape similar to the one she had worked with earlier at the gun range. She clipped the holster onto the Talon barding she already wore and dropped the gun in on a push of magic.
I paid close attention as Lyrical kitted herself out. Her expression flickered between angry and sad and other things I couldn’t read. After settling a few things into her saddlebags, she considered the Talon helmet. I stared at her as she stared at it, her face still. The helmet bobbed gently in her magic, offering nothing.
“Lass, it’s not a rejection. The Talons are always interested in recruiting folks sharp and true, and if they’ve got their eyes on all those ponies enslaved, well.. They’ll be home soon enough. And you’ll be even more ready to join then, having gone on a normal mission with us.”
Lyrical rose fully to her hooves and clipped the helmet to her barding. She turned to Daisy and nodded firmly. “You’re absolutely right, sir. This isn’t a failure, just a delay.” She bumped hooves with the old pony, who shut the locker and trotted back to his desk. Engineer looked on with a smug griffish grin on his face.
We signed out for our equipment, Engineer scribbling his mark for Lyrical’s draw, and said our goodbyes. Engineer led us out of Daisy’s machine shop and into the lowering afternoon sun. I was just opening my mouth to ask where we were going when my stomach growling interrupted me. Lyrical giggled and Engineer chuckled. I scowled at them, before breaking into a grin.
“Well, I was going to suggest meeting the caravan master and going over your mission, but I take it dinner would be in order first?” Engineer laughed. I couldn’t help but agree.
We made our way back to the cafeteria I had enjoyed breakfast in earlier that day. The colossal form of Blunt Force loomed behind the counter, making a racket with pots and pans. I deposited Blinky on a table, where he sprawled out asleep. Engineer was already returning from the counter, Lyrical carrying a bunch of plates in her magic. I returned to the table, and Lyrical slid a plate loaded with greens in front of me.
“Thanks!” I said, and smiled at her and Engineer as they took their seats.
“Blunt said they’re between lunch and dinner, but he had some plates set up for latecomers.” Lyrical said. Engineer nodded as a plate floated around Blinky to him.
“These are one of his specialties. Ponies and griffons can both eat them, and from what I’ve heard, they’re pretty tasty for all of us.” Engineer proceeded to dig in, and I followed suit. Greens and grains in good proportion made an excellent light meal, and the rumbling in my belly was soon quieted.
I gathered the empty plates and brought them back to the counter. Blunt Force swung over and snatched them out of my hooves, whirling into the depths of the kitchen with a shouted “Thank You!” over his shoulder. I left laughing, following Engineer and Lyrical out of the cafeteria. Blinky was on Lyrical’s back now, and gave me a curious look before settling into another nap.
Engineer led us back through the Talon’s compound towards the gate. Just shy of the gate, he turned sharply and led us to one of the oddly shaped buildings there. I noticed that they both had large doors, similar to the big gate. The smaller door let us into a large open room, redolent with the warm scent of hay and brahmin. Several of them were hanging out in the stalls lining the room, including a group of them playing cards off in one corner.
An earth pony looked up as we came in, and tossed his cards facedown before rising from his seat at the card table. “Hey Maple, I’m out. Got business, your deal.” One of the brahmin lowed affirmatively. The pony was dark blue with a tan mane, limping on one foreleg. He smiled broadly as he neared, eyeing me and Lyrical. “Howdy there, Engineer. Heard you’ve got me a fresh second to test drive on this haul.”
“Yes I do indeed. Two, in fact. Wicked Cut here just seconded to the Talons.” Engineer indicated me with a gesture, and I waved my Talon token, hung on my neck. “And Lyrical Thesis is going to be a recruit.”
“Going to be?” The pony asked, a sour look on his face.
“Yes, going to be. All the recruiters are mustering out to clean up after the Horn over Hoof gang, and she’s on hold until they get back.” Engineer shot back. “Come on Long Haul, you know I don’t break procedures around here.”
“No, but you’ll bend them until they creak. The First Run is meant to test new Seconds in an all-Talon environment. Not to babysit likely ponies until Recruiting can get around to inducting them.” Long Haul snapped. I glanced at Engineer, whose ears were pinned back. Lyrical astounded me by laughing gleefully. Long Haul looked completely shocked, and I felt right there with him.
“Oh this is great, I like this guy. Engineer, he’s right, we should just relax here until the recruiters are back.” Lyrical said. Engineer stared at her, and she indicated me and Long Haul with a wave of a hoof. “He’s absolutely right, and he knows what he’s doing. I’ll spend a few days on the gun range, talk to some of the other trainers here. It’ll be fine.”
I approached Lyrical, gazing into her face. She was smiling bravely, but I could tell there was more than a touch of melancholy behind her eyes. “Are you sure you’re gonna be OK here?” I asked.
“Yeah. I think it’ll be good, get some practice and training in, and some time to think.” She replied. I smiled, and turned to present Blinky, idly chewing on one of the buckles of my armor.
“You should keep Blinky with you, give you someone familiar to talk to.” I offered. Lyrical giggled as she took hold of the molerat in her magic.
“It will be nice to have someone that doesn’t talk back.” She said with a wicked grin. I smiled sheepishly in return. “Come on, Engineer, let’s leave Wicked to his test run.”
Engineer and Lyrical made their way out of the building, and I turned back to Long Haul. I took a deep breath and smiled at his sour expression. “OK, sir, what do I need to do first?”