A fireball was falling from the sky and impacted on the ground with a deafening noise.

Cheers and giggles accompanied me as I trotted over to a curled-up figure.

A gun was clenched between my teeth.

Now I stood above the pony and noticed that it had wings covering its face.

Pathetic!

I shoved the wings away and stared into the face of a white mare with a blonde mane.

Her eyes were burnt out.

I jumped awake with a scream, my look darted through the room searching for... anything that would tell me I was actually awake and what I had seen moments ago had been the dream.

Okay, Feather, calm down... you're awake now... it just feels awakish. Calm down...

There were windows... good... but they were either blocked up by the cabinets or by heavy wooden planks, nailed on the window frames, and as a result there was just enough light filling the room that I could make out my environment. The room I had been sleeping in was neither our camp at Tulip's house, nor was it the large hall with the bunker and the armory at its end, this was a new one. A room I hadn't seen before. Broken desks, filing cabinets and a whole bunch of litter were decorating my environment, giving my new camp site the same look as every single one before. Those office blocks – I guess this was another office – all looked the same to me.

Just now I noticed that my hooves were clenching something. A look downwards showed me I was hugging... a pillow? An actual pillow? Well, somepony had ensured I would have a good shuteye.
Relatively good...
Shivering I tried to recap my dream... my nightmare... but its content had already slipped my mind. I just remembered it had been shocking. Horrible.
As I was about to release the bolster my hooves touched something wet at its... everywhere. Why was my pillow wet? I looked up to the ceiling. Maybe there was a hole and a shower of rain had wetted it, but that was... impossible for so many reasons, and the absence of holes in the ceiling was only the most basic one. Absentminded I raised my hoof, touched my cheek and gasped as I felt something rough and dried up.
I had been crying. And not just a little bit, considering the soaking wet bolster.

The sudden bang of a door pulled me out of my thoughts and as I turned my head towards the noise's origin I could barely see anything, except for the pink lightning bolt that knocked my down instantly. Fortunately I was still half lying half sitting on my/whoever's bedroll, so it didn't hurt too much as the pink mare – Tulip, as I remembered – dragged me to the ground again.

"You're... you're awake again." she said with a wheezy voice and not without confusion I realized she wasn't trying to choke, but to hug me. That felt weird, somehow. Taking a closer look at the pink pony's face, I wanted to make sure it was really the mare that had looked at me as if he would like to strangle me with my own wings last night. Her eyes were widened and bloodshot, her mane wasn't brushed and all in all she looked pretty... stove up, but it was indeed Tulip. And a very tired Tulip as she told me with a intense yawn right into my face.
"Finally. We were all worried sick about you." On my questioning look, she added quickly. "Well, at least Angel and I were worried sick. The others were just worried, but also a little pit pissed."

"Where is Angel? And why are you...?" I asked. I had to admit, I had rather expected it to be him than her who would be charging into my room after I had suffered... something, even if it was just exhaustion or fatigue. I didn't know why, but among all his other traits he seemed a bit over-protective to me. Just like a mother some of my teammates kept whining about a long time ago. Everything seemed to have happened such a long time ago...

"I last saw him as he was talking to the town council, that was maybe an hour ago, but the council... Old Timer likes to hear himself talking, so everything takes its time. And since I don't need to hear your story again – Angel has told me the important parts already – I was just wandering back to my own house when that one buck told me he heard a scream coming out your room. What happened? Did you...?"

"Just a bad dream." I answered. "Nothing to worry about."

Suddenly the pink mare seemed to recognize the wet pillow between my belly and hers and after backing away a little bit, her look ran over her own body then over mine and up to my face.

"You look awful." she said, her gaze swaying to and fro the soaked bolster and my caked cheeks. "What... that must've been one hell of a bad dream you had there. Just wait here for a second, I'll get you some water and a... there has to be a mirror lying around here somewhere, just... just wait a second."

"There's no need for that, Tulip. Just show me a bathroom somewhere, give me a few minutes and I'll look presentable in no time."

"You can't do that." She said, trotting over to the door again.

"Please, it was just a bad dream. There's nothing for you to worry about, I promise I won't freak out or something because of an odd reflection in the mirror." I said calmingly. "And while I appreciate your intentions, I don't need another mare mothering me anymore."

The mare blushed slightly, although, maybe she was blushing a lot, but her pink hide covered it well.

"You don't understand. You can't go, so I'll bring the stuff in here. Potato crisp!" She hammered her hoof against the wooden door three times, it opened, she vanished trough and then it closed again with a bang, followed by a series of clicking noises.

Okay... what the heck had just happened?
Here she comes, tries talking about something... and then – bamm! – she's gone again.
Weird. Her whole acting had been weird. What had Angel told her about me to "achieve" that?
After sitting there for a few seconds longer, still stunned by the pink mare's behavior, I decided to take my leave as well. My legs felt pretty alive and were eager to run free, and one of my wings was still asleep. The answer to both this problems would be a good morning walk somewhere outside, maybe even a little flight divertissement too. That would be great.

My thoughts about strolling and flying and the outside in general were suddenly concluded as the door didn't give ground to my hoof and I stumbled against the wooden board, bumping my nose on it. Okay, Feather, unlocking the door first sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?
Reaching out with my wingtip to the iron doorknob, I found it locked in place, much to my surprise.
Well, that was one malfunction definitely worth a letter of complain, if the company responsible for the door would still have existed and I would have a piece of paper and something to write on it.
I had neither.
Checked.

Knocking my hoof against the wooden door, just like Tulip had done it before, I hoped to to be able to address whoever had opened it for her. Obviously this was a known problem, since there had been somepony standing in front of it to open the door when needed. But still, Tulip could havve at least hold the door open, that would save the pony on the other side the work tear the probably jammed door open. But instead of a helping hoof removing that obstacle in my way I was greeted bluntly by a male voice behind the door.

"You're in there again?" the stallion on the other side of the door said, sounding somehow bugged. "I could swear I saw you leaving just moments ago."

In there again? Either I had been really, really drunk last night – which I usually wasn't – or he was mistaking me for Tulip.

"Ah... no, sorry, you're mistaking me for somepony else. Not again, I'm still in here. But it would be nice of you to let me out nonetheless. I would like to take a walk..."

"Sure thing. Parole?"

Parole? Was this some kind of joke?

"Ice cream?" I took a wild guess. Why would I need a password to get out of my room? Okay, it wasn't exactly my own room, but somepony had taken me here and had brought me a bedroll as well, so he or she had wanted me to be there. So it was technically my room.

"Stop playing games, Tulip..." the stallion started, but then he was interrupted by another voice, male too, equally bugged, but a bit younger and a lot harsher.

"It's her." the second buck growled, but his companion just huffed, mumbling something. I was sure, if I would be able to see through the wood I would see him shrugging. I heard what sounded like a facehoofing pony, then the second voice continued, now just as bugged than the other. "The spy? The partridge? Rings any bells? Or have you been sleeping through the last two days?" His fellow pony finally seemed to remember whatever he had been told, uttering a noise of recognition. "And do you remember what they said about talking to the her?"

"No talking?"

"Damn right, so keep your mouth shut! No talking to the prisoner means no talking to the prisoner. Nice try, feathered turkey. But you won't fool us twice." The stallion yelled and from what I knew about acoustics and given the roaring, thunder-like noise that almost threw me on my back again, I was sure an apple buck against the door followed his shout.

Okay, by Celestia's crown jewels, what the double heck?!
I wasn't sure what to be upset about first... I mean "feathered turkey"! What kind of insult was that? Had whoever had invented this quotation ever seen a turkey? Well, I had neither, at least no living one, but from what I knew birds were always feathered, making that adjectivally description pretty redundant. Feathered turkey... pffh!
What was the other thing I had decided to be upset about again? "No talking to the prisoner." The prisoner... I was a prisoner?

Suddenly the arrangement of the furniture alongside the "jammed" door made much more sense. The door wasn't malfunctioning, it was locked. And the cabinets hadn't been placed in front of the windows to keep the pale sunlight out but to keep me in.
That was what Tulip had meant. I couldn't go. I was a prisoner.

Given my lack of other options I decided to do what I always did when I was upset, grounded and had a lot of time with nothing meaningful to do: I groomed my plumage.
A prisoner! A prisoner my flank!
Hold captive by the same ponies I had... saved last night by... by sacrificing what according to Angel was my most valuable property down here: my innocence.
I had helped those ponies and they answered that by putting me in a cage like this. Why?
Because the world hated me, as I was reminded by one of my pinions whipping back into my face.

I didn't exactly know how long I had been sitting there, how often I asked myself what I had done to deserve this or how often I moaned about the lack of water for the preening to work properly, it could have been minutes or hours since Tulip had left me alone. But by the time I heard the locks clicking again, I had already come up with some accusatory words to make her feel bad.
Because that was what she... what they deserved for treating my like this.
Like a spy. Like an enemy. Like one of those raiders.

Like the raiders I had killed...
Three of them, the night before...
Three raiders - no! - two ponies and a griffin, whose lives I had ended for them.
The lives I had ended...

The words of accusatorial slipped my mind as I dashed over towards a pile of garbage, in desperate need for something...
I vomited into a cracked wooden bowl and tears followed as I put it away and threw myself to the bedroll, again hugging my pillow.

I had just killed three ponies!

The now familiar bang of the door behind me sounded dull through the veil of tears that clouded both my vision and my hearing, but I didn't care to look around, there was nopony interesting or alive enough to distract me. To distract me from what I had done.
I heard a shout. Somepony was shouting something, maybe it was my name, but it sounded distant and meaningless. Moaning something like "Go away." in return, I wanted to be alone with my self pity. And if there was one thing I wanted even more, then it was not to see, talk or smell those unthankful dirt ponies ever again.

Oh, by Celestia, if that pony shouts my name one more time, I'm going to...
Wet! Cold! Much! And it was all over my head!

With a scream I started up, my eyes searching for whoever had done this to me. The cabinets and closets seemed unsuspicious, maybe a little bit too unsuspicious, but I severely doubted the had done it. Another look up to the ceiling told me that there was still no hole to pour something down on me in it. To empty out a bucket of water right over my head, that was mean, even for... wasteland standards.
Suddenly I felt a gentle hoof touching my shoulder, I span around and looked into the face of Tulip again, her eyes widened again, but this time I saw a tiny bit of fear in them. And next to her head floated brass bowl, dripping with water. She!

"What was that about?!" She yelled, glaring at me in confusion.

"I could ask you the same thing. You just... you just showered me, for no reason!"

"Oh, so you lying on your bed, crying and nearly liquefying in your own tears and bucking at everypony trying to come close is no reason?"

Now she was pissed. Well, good, because I was too, both literally and figuratively spoken. Although I was glad and she was lucky I wasn't dressed yet.

"You've taken me prisoner; Tulip! After... after what I've done for you, for your town, for all of its inhabitants! You can't do this to me!"

"Please listen, Earth... Feather – that was your name, right? – I'm just as unpleased by the latest turns of events as you are and believe me, Angel's more pissed than I ever saw him before, if he wouldn't be a civilized pony he would most likely gun down everything the raiders left of us to express his anger. Neither of us wanted that and I can take that you two lied to me, after what Angel told me about you, but the others... they're quite prickly about stuff like that. I would be too, if I wouldn't know Angel. They think you might be an enclave spy..."

"I just saved them!" I shouted. Enclave spy, feathered turkey, prisoner... I had saved them from being torn to pieces by their own Celestia-damned machine gun. They had gotten themselves into this situation, they settled to close to the raider territory, they had left their armory unguarded and after I intervened and helped them, they still considered me a spy.
"I just saved their poor dusty flanks instead of simply walking away with Angel. I decided to step into this hell with you out of pure compassion. I've taken three lives for you..."

"...and I'm most thankful for that..."

"But you shouldn't be thankful! You should be disgusted! And you should trust me! I killed... just for you, and you still think I will... tranquilize everypony without wings around me, strap them onto my back, deport them to my secret cloud-laboratory to test rainbow acid on them, just because I'm evil! I've killed three people for you!"

"They were just raiders, not..."

"They were living beings! Two pony bucks and one male griffin. They lived and they had parents and friends and..." Now I started sobbing again and threw myself on the bedroll. Great. I looked weak and she was there, probably those two guard bucks were watching too. "...and I just burned them away. Like that. With a simple move of my tongue, each push costing another being its life. I don't care if they were raiders, if they were evil or if killing them was the "right thing to do". It just feels so wrong..."

The pink mare lay down next to me, her magic shoving away my wet mane and levitating my face up to hers, while one of her hooves was gently brushing my mane.

"It was your first... the first life you ended, wasn't it? Angel told me in confidence you are an enclave soldier, but he also said you... wouldn't act like that. I couldn't imagine... you've never killed anypony before?"

"Are you disappointed now?" I growled between two sobs. "Is it that what displeases your fellow surface dwellers? That I'm not blood-soaked enough?"

"No, it's just... odd for a pony of your age not to have killed a raider yet."

The pink mare was just as sensitive as a percussion drill, I should have seen it coming. She made it sound as if killing another pony was like cooking your own food, brushing your mane or doing your preening all by yourself. She continued to "comfort" me for about five minutes longer, using both pseudophilosophic arguments, surface allegories I didn't understand and jokes, and she didn't stop until I nearly bit her twice. She just didn't know how I felt and slowly she seemed to realize that too, resulting in her trying to get me my morning wash instead of harping on my feelings of guilt.
I was most thankful for that. No only wasn't she saying anything anymore but the cold water – at least the tiny bit that was left after her "Snap out of it"-shower – was able to banish my dreadful thinkings for the moment too, as it washed my face clean of the traces of last night. Was that how other ponies felt when the drowned their problems in whatever kind of delirium-promising distillate they were use to drink down here?

Tulip levitated some kind of towel over to me and after I had dried my face and mane, she led my over to one of the closets that were occupying the walls of my... room. Opening its doors my gaze felt on the saddle bags I had left... somewhere, I didn't remember where, but that didn't matter now, I got them back. And next to them lay my clothing, the brown and black jacket neatly folded, and the two foreleg hoofguards were placed on top, unfortunately but quite understandable without my gun in its holster. Oh, I had been looking forward to wear my "uniform" again and not only because its fabric wasn't itching all the time.

After I was dressed again, Tulip left the room again, but this time she stated expressively that I should come with her to, in her words: settle things right... again. We left the "cell" and passed my two guard bucks, both dirt brown earth ponies, who looked slightly like some of the Hyenas and were looking at me equally pissed. Shrugging off the unpleasant thoughts I followed the pink mare through the long corridors and after a while I started to remember the building. It seemed to be the one that housed the town council, the dinner the evening before and the battlefield in front of the armory, but I wasn't entirely sure until we reached the foyer again. The upcoming discomfort at the sight of countless dead ponies turned out to be reasonless, for somepony had dragged the dead bodies out and even cared to clean away the traces of the battle. Here and there were still some... red spots and the bullet holes at the walls were still existent too, but apart from that it all looked as if last night never happened.

We met only a few ponies as we made our way through the building, the pink mare trotting next to me explained that they were all busy tidying up the mess the raiders had caused. But when we happened to see one, they were looking either pretty stressed, tired or they were glaring at me and Tulip, sometimes hissing. Most of the times they did all four things. No word was spoken, except for some occasionally whispering behind our backs.
They didn't trust me.
Nopony trusted me.

"So... what happens now?" I asked after two dark green earth pony mares passed us, muttering something about a funny trial taking place in a few minutes. I hoped they were only saying this because I was there, the dinner had been trialy enough, I preferred not to imagine a wasteland trial.That would be a trial trial, a double trial... and I imagined that to be awful. Not for the outcome, they couldn't do much more than banishing me, could they? It just would be terrible while it lasted.

"They'll... question you. Old Timer and the others I mean, they will want you to tell them who you really are, why you are here and were your allies are. I would advise telling the truth, but since they've no way of expose you again, it really doesn't matter. And after that..." Tulip sighed. "...I don't know for sure what they'll do after that. Whatever you say, they won't believe you and that means you're still a potential threat to them. You'll have to leave, but... I don't know when they'll let you."
When they will let me? They couldn't continue my imprisonment!
"But don't worry, I'm sure we'll figure something out. We were caravaners after all, so a few financially well-resourced arguments should be enough to... convince them of your innocence."

Bribery then... or was it appropriate to us the word "bribery" when you were trying to keep somepony from doing something they had no right to do in the first place? And again I would cost Angel money or caps or whatever, heck, if I would stay with him much longer he would run dry soon for sure.
We arrived at what was the door to the council/dining/trial room, the doors were closed and two unicorns were standing in front of it, eying us – well, mainly me – with ill-concealed hatred. Their looks told that if it was up to them there would be no need for me to step through those doors. They would take care of me. And suddenly I realized how I was feeling, how I had felt since our first encounter with the ponies of the surface: I felt branded. Being hated not for what I did but for what I was, for what I could eventually do, even if the chance was oh so tiny. It was like being a Dashite, just the other way round. Being branded a Dashite was enough for the most enclave pegasi to shoot the barer of the mark on sight. We didn't knew exactly what he or she had done, but they were Dashites, it had do be something serious.

"Are you ready?" Tulip whispered into my ear and I nodded. How bad could it be? "Don't forget: I might be sitting in front of you, right next to your judges, but I'm still on your side. And I'll do everything I can to get you out of this mess."

And with that she gave the two guards a sign, they shoved the double-door open and together we entered the court room.
I had to admit, those surface ponies were true magicians when it came to varying the interior decoration of a room without letting it look as improvised as it was. First my own "prison cell" and now the former dining room. Where once had been the big table was now a big empty spot, the parts of the table had been either moved to the walls or were now acting as a footing of the town council's doom seat, which was located nearly at the same spot the three chief ponies had sat before. Only now they were sitting much higher.

The two guardponies guided me to the center of the space in front of the piled up tables and continued standing by my side as the oldest stallion, most likely Old Timer, who was the one sitting between Tulip and the unnamed crimson stallion, who had given me the plasma pistol last night, began to talk.

"State your name, pegasus." he said, slowly but with such high intensity I felt my feathers shaking and could barely resist to puff up to seem bigger. This was one hell of leader if he could make you feel bad and guilty without doing more than asking for your name. He reminded me a bit of the judges who had held a trial against Sunshine a long time ago. Her crime had been similar serious.

"I'm... my name is Whirling Feather." I said shakingly and added. "Your Honor."

"Well then, Whirling Feather... you know why you are here, don't you?"

"I am... no, to be honest, I don't know why I'm here. The last time I checked I was helping your people defending your town against raiders." I said with a relatively firm voice. Being self-confident seemed decent to me on the one hoof, while the other was about to beat me to a feathered pulp for not trying to be a little bit more submissive. "I can't see what crime I committed to receive that kind of treatment from you."

Now the crimson pony shook his head.

"That's not the point. Helping our people's just good if you did it for the right reasons. Now tell me: did you lie to us as you told you were a stable pony. Of course that's a question of rhetorical nature, we know you lied. Your... friend told us so."
He pointed to my right and as my eyes followed the hoof I saw Angel, dressed in his blue coat, standing at the wall, an angry look on his face. How had missed him as I entered the room? Maybe his grey hide...
"So tell us: who are you really?"

"As I said before: I am Whirling Fe..."

"State your true affiliation and intent!" the crimson one growled. That was strange, a few hours ago he hadn't seemed to mind who I was, but now... as if there was some kind of reward for..."exposing" who I was.

Okay, Feather, no use in denying it, if Angel already told them.

"I'm Whirling Feather..." Just as he wanted to interrupt me again I continued. "And I'm no stable pony. I am a citizen of Lunar Rock, city of the Grand Pegasus Enclave."

The crimson stallion emitted a triumphant laugh and turned towards his fellow councilponies.

"I told you she's a spy!"

"Please, Shotgun." Tulip cut him short. "That doesn't mean anything. Remember that one pegasus that we met a few months ago in Friendship City? The one who helped building the..."

"That doesn't mean anything. He was a Dashite, no enlcave pony anymore, while this one" he waved his foreleg into my general direction while his face was still turned to Tulip. "is definitely no such Dashite. She's still got her cutie mark and so on. So don't give me that merciful mugger thing, I won't take it. If she wouldn't be here to do damage us or spy on us, why would she use a fake name and a fake identity, huh? Why didn't she just said who she was when we first met her?"

The elder stallion between them raised his hooves and in an instant the two ponies were silent. That was authority.

"An interesting question indeed, but I think Tulip isn't the pony capable of answering that question. So" All three ponies turned towards me again. "Whirling Feather, why did you hide your true self?"

My look darted to Angel and the grey buck nodded. Truth then...

"I...we thought it would be much less problematic to let you think I would be an earth pony. We... I... we had some previous encounter where being a pegasus did more harm than good when it came to social interactions and..." Full truth. "...and my companion thought revealing my true nature to this town's citizens might cause trouble concerning our overnight stop."
Great, that sounded a lot more like taking the advantage than I had intended.

"Causing trouble..." the crimson pony – I wasn't entirely sure if Shotgun was his actual name or nickname – said with a questioning voice. "But what kind of undertaking could we possibly trouble? There's nothing out here except for raiders, dust and some tumbleweed, nothing that would lead an enclave... pony this way. Apart from watching us of course."

"We were searching... my friends..."

"Of course, your friends. Them stable ponies you joined up with to investigate that odd flying machine somewhere out in the desert, am I right." he said with smug voice. "Oh no, that's some evidence we haven't considered yet. The enclave and the stable ponies..."

What was the point of this whole show of his? Would he gain something be just making me look as if I couldn't fly and bust a cloud at the same time? Although I didn't remember doing so, but I thought myself capable of such a thing. Couldn't be that hard, could it?

"They are no stable ponies either, they are enclave just like me." I hissed at the my crimson accuser, but his smug smile grew even wider, just as if he had sniffed out another lie.

"It just keeps getting better and better. So there are even more pegasi down here? And you never considered that to be important enough to tell us?"

"Shotgun, that's..." Tulip tried to say, but now I snapped.

"No! Because it's none of your business!" I shouted. What was wrong with him? "Or should I have told you parents' middle names, my favorite type of cloud and my dress size too? "

Much to my relief Old Timer intervened before the crimson stallion could reply or launch any further accusations at me. How was he able to remain so restrained when all the ponies around him started yelling at each other. Even Angel look oddly upset, but he didn't say anything. Most likely he was either forbidden to do so or he thought it would jeopardize my case, but his facial expression confirmed what Tulip had said before: if he would have been no civilized pony, he would end this trial the leaded way.
As the elder stallion had finished calling his younger co-judge to order, which resulted in the crimson one shrinking markedly, he rose his next question.

"So you're saying that there are indeed friends of yours still out there and while I agree, that your dress size is none of our business, I still have to ask if you're really thinking it's just a coincidence, that a Sparrowtan followed you here."

"Exactly!" Shotgun suddenly grew again. "Everypony knows that the Sparrowtans only chase ponies if they're suspected of harming the wasteland population. And because he was chasing you, that means that you are a threat to us. That you are indeed a spy!"

Seeking help and with a questioning look on my face I turned my head towards Tulip and Angel. I was lost.
What was a Sparrowtan? When had I encountered one? Since when had he chased me or had he chased me at all? I hadn't noticed a thing and Angel did neither, or at least he hadn't mentioned anything about so called ponies before.

"I don't know of any "Sparrowtans", left alone one following me. Nopony followed me. What or who is that supposed to be at all?" I said, but I vaguely remembered hearing about them or something sounding quite similar before. But not at the time I had come to the surface or afterwards, an enclave class had told me something about them, history maybe.

"The griffin you killed..." Angel growled, letting the two guards to my side and the crimson pony on the tables gasp and frown. "They found some badges on his armor, showing him as a member of the elite griffin corps known as The Sparrowtans. Long story short: they're some soldiers protecting their country – or what's left of it – against the wasteland and among other things..."

While Angel continued his elucidation, I remembered. The Sparrowtans were a group of elite griffin warriors, just like the Wonderbolts – only much higher in numbers – were for the Enclave and the pre-war Equestria. They had existed long since the war and had been important a few times in griffon history, including their temporary alliance with Equestria in the Great War, but I basically thought they were extinct like the rest of the old world.

"...they're not per default on the hunt for pegasi, but they'll do everything to disrupt any sort of enclave operation on this side of the wasteland. Sworn some holy oath to bring the Enclave down since your race picked up a quarrel with theirs and, by what I've heard, you beat them."

Okay... so when they were following an enclave pegasus that meant most certainly that said pegasus was up to something. Oh, Celestia, that made me suspicious indeed, if their intelligence service was just half as efficient as our one back home. If it comes to political complot or overall public endangerment (and that usually meant something like speaking dashite thoughts out loud), those ponies were arrested faster than one could say cumulonimbus.
Old Timer shook his head and looked at me again, this time I could see fair regret in his eyes. I had to admit, the situation he was in now was none I would envy him for. He had to protect his fellow ponies from whatever threat I might be, but doing so would also mean some kind of harm to me. And I had helped them before.

"I think we..." he started, but was cut off by... Angel?

"The presence of a Sparrowtan doesn't mean anything. In fact we're not even entirely sure that this griffin was one at all. His badges could be self-made, stolen or maybe he's a outcast or a renegade. I haven't yet heard of any event in which a Sparrowtan in official mission teamed up with raiders and made havok of a neutral town, just to get rid of one enclave soldier. That simply doesn't seem like them."

"I... I know, but still..." For the first time since I knew him, Old Timer seemed a little bit doubtful. "I acknowledge your objection, but we have to deal with the potential threat your companion poses. She lied to us, hid her true intent and so on. We can't be entirely sure what she says is the truth, but your point is valid too, Angel. She might be innocent and we don't want to punish a innocent mare, especially not after she helped us defending our town. And with regard to the mysterious griffin... there's only one way we can know for sure."
The elder stallion sat up and his fellow judges did the same. "Judgment time" I thought.
"We will send a legpony to the Sparrowtans and request an identification of the fallen one. If it turns out they sent him after you, Whirling Feather, then we will hand you over, but we will still be thankful for your intervention. And if they say they don't know about him or you, then you are free to go, to do whatever you want."

That sounded reasonable and fair, but...

"Of course you will have to stay here until then. We can't take the risk of you flying away. I'm sure you understand."

"How long does the whole thing take?" I asked. I wasn't sure my journey could take a delay of a few days.

"A week. Maybe two. We've got not the fastest runners in the wasteland and they'll have to find the griffins first. And after that they'll have to discuss the matter and send a messenger of their own back to us. It'll take its time, but I'm sure you'll feel fine the time you're here. We could use a pony like you after all to build some new watchtowers."

Two weeks? Maybe even more? My jaw dropped. That wasn't acceptable. Even if my friends were still out there, be it dead or alive, they wouldn't wait three weeks for me, they couldn't wait for so long. This... verdict had to be changed.

"That's... I'm sorry, but I can stay here until the messengers return, there has to be a way to cut this short. I'm..."

My objection found a sudden end as the door behind me burst open and a group of relatively well dressed and armored ponies entered the court room, accompanied by half a dozen guard ponies, yelling at them and trying to convince them to wait outside. Some of the town's ponies even had their guns held in their muzzles. The two unicorns next to me drew theirs and span around, taking aim at the intruders.

They weren't raiders and by what my guts told me they weren't bandits or slavers either (but since when did my guts knew the truth?), the faces showed nothing but professional calm and all their weapons were still holstered at their forelegs and shoulders, three of them were carrying rifles on their backs. The ponies took their place next to me, totally ignoring the angry ponies around them and faced the council, giving me the opportunity to admire them and their clothing at close range.
The group – minus the surrounding guards of course – consisted of five ponies, three stallions and two mares, all of them dressed in the same kind of reinforced armor-clothing. Grey armor plates were covering their shoulders and chests, while the color-matching black or light grey fabric of their clothing either covered the rest of their torso, resulting in some kind of coat (bucks) or ended a few inches off their cutie marks (mares), not unlike my own. And while their clothes also covered their forelegs, I could see some of them had hitched up the sleeves for their holsters.
Like mine their outfits looked as if they would have been produced recently, if one ignored the snags and the dirt in some spots, and I assumed pre-war business clothing to be the given source material. Whoever their tailor was, he or she was just as talented as Suture, maybe even more talented. I looked at the garment I had been wearing for the last weak. No offense to Springmare's dressmaker, but compared to what I saw now, her products looked a little bit tasteless.
I wanted one of their outfits...

Just as I noticed that all of them were unicorns, their leader – I assumed – , a pre-war fedora on his head, took a step forward, thereby breaking the protective circle the townguards had formed around the group. He was... old. Not as old as Old Timer, who I would describe as a doter if it wasn't for his still well functioning mind, but he wasn't like me or Tulip too. This stallion stood in the prime of his life, his hide was of a dark yellowish green and the dark brown mane looked perfectly brushed – relatively of course, but by comparison to hairy mess I carried along with me on my head it looked gorgeous. The whole buck looked gorgeous and then his voice... as if they had come directly from before the war.

"Greetings, citizens of... here." he announced with a smooth tone, clothing his face with a gentle smile. "We've come a long way to visit your proud and thriving..."

"What do you want?" Old Timer asked, annoyance swinging in his voice. "I've worked as a merchant for the longest time of my life, I know it when somepony's trying to use his silver tongue to seduce me. So just say what you want, I'll tell you the price and then we'll get this over with. Whatever it is, I hope for you it is important or profitable enough to interrupt an ongoing trial."

The yellow stallion looked shocked for a second, but immediately he recovered his smile. That had been an harsh welcome, even by what I was used to experience. Okay, it wasn't as bad as being shot at or nearly foalnapped by random strangers, but for enclave standards it was very rude. And that towards such a handsome buck...
Pull yourself together, Feather, that's not what you should think right now!

"What we want... oh, it's actually pretty weird...You see, we were just wandering the wasteland – we get about in our business – and then, all of the sudden, we meet this one merchant, almost mistook him for a RADscorpion. Turned out he's a nice pony, good manners, some interesting stuff for sale, reasonable prices and a font of anecdotes for free. You wouldn't guess what he told us: he said that out here's a town, founded by some venturesome caravanponies. We didn't believe it until we saw it, is that right, my friends?"
The group of unicorns behind him nodded in unison.
"And since that's not fantastic enough, he also told us that there's a pegasus around here somewhere. You see, for our current business we're in desperate need for a pegasus associate..."

"We're no slave market." Old Timer answered with professional calm. "If that's all..."

"No, no, that's quite a misunderstanding. We're no slavers. As I said, our current client needs a pegasus for some... special task they want it to perform."

That sounded... gross...

"And as I said: we don't do slave trade. And even if we would, we could let her go anyways. Would you care to leave now?"

The handsome stallion's eyes wandered across the room, from the three coucilponies to Angel and the town guards behind himself and finally I stuck on me and my wings.

"So it's a her, all the better. You work with your eyes first. Okay, I know a Dashite is a valuable addition to your town's people, but I can assure you, we'll come to an agreement that's profitable for the both of us. And it doesn't involve slavery of any kind." He added the last sentence with a touch of peskiness. "We just need her for one simple job, pushing a few buttons, stuff like that.It isn't even far away, just for two days, maybe three, and then she'll be back, safe and sound. And with a good deal of caps for herself and for you."

"She accused of espo... epsi... of being a spy." Shotgun suddenly called out as Old Timer took a second to think about what had been said. "She can't go with you, because she has to stay here until the evidence of her guiltiness comes together. And that won't be until one and a half weeks at minimum. You can come back later."

"Accused of espionage, I understand..." the businesspony mumbled, his look was still lying on me, searching me for whatever he wanted to search for. "No Dashite, maybe still enclave... this should be no problem at all."
He turned his head towards the three ponies on the tables again.
"Okay, I think I understand what's going on. Basically she's grounded, you don't want her to leave, since she could return to her spy-masters and tell them about you. I don't understand why she would, but I understand your concern. However, I think I've got the solution to all our problems:"
Two smaller bags emerged from somewhere under his grey overcoat, making a climpering noise as the he levitated the first one over to Old Timer.
"Three thousand caps for you to "lend" us her for the next couple of days. We will keep her from running or flying away so that you don't have to worry about that. She'll be back soon. Take two large more as a "insurance" for us not to let her go, just because she asks nicely."
The second bag changed hooves... or magical fields... or whatever...

"And on the score of your reward..." The greeny one turned his gently smiling face towards me again. "I'm sure we can figure something out on our own. It'll be to your satisfaction, I promise. Do we have a deal?"

That sounded... ambivalent.
Of course it was very nice to escape the whole grounded-thing by doing something... with buttons. And if I would earn some money with that to repay Angel, all the better.
On the other hoof: that deal sounded a little bit too good to be true.
But if I would manage to escape them after we had reached our goal, after they would pay me... I could make it to the crash site – given I would know the exact location, but I would figure something out eventually – catch up with what was left of my friends and then... everypony would win. I would be free, Angel would be repaid, this town would have five thousand caps more – quite a lot I assumed – and those businessponies would have satisfied their client. Thinking of which, maybe I should leave a part of my paying for them, it would damage them in a financially way after all.

"I... I think I can agree with that." I said hesitantly, making Shotgun gasp in indignation. He stammered something about that action being illegal and used the word "outrageous" more than once, but finally he was silenced by Old Timer, who hesitatingly agreed too. The only thing he wanted to negotiate again was the amount of caps in play and the leader of the unicorns assigned one of the mares to this task before leaving the room, but not before he invited me to come to their own encampment for further conversations about business after this "inconvenience" ended.

And after the unbidden guests were gone, the trial was completed very fast. Powered by the bottle caps, the elder stallion basically just repeated what his younger negotiating partner had said and after that, he, his crimson co-judge and the guards left the room too, leaving Angel and me alone with Tulip again.

They were merchants after all.

"Okay... what was that?" I asked as we walked through through the town. The news about the businessponies and – much more important – the bottle caps they had left had spread like wildfire, causing the ponies we met on our way to glance at me not only in fear or ill-concealed anger, they didn't stop that, but also in... well, appreciation wasn't the right word... by Celestia's collection of scatter cushions, I wasn't able to summarize everything the town ponies' faces showed me in one word. It was condemnation with a large part of worry and a tiny pinch of thankfulness.
Angel had split off as soon as we had left the main building, promising me to get our stuff together and taking move it to my new "home". For the rest of the day if I was lucky, for the rest of the month if I wasn't.
"I mean, they completely dumped the whole trial, just because somepony threw a few caps in. Okay, it wasn't a few, it were five thousand caps, maybe more, but still... I had thought them to be a bit more adamant, I'm "posing a potential threat" after all. And Old Timer simply let me off the rope. Why didn't anypony, Shotgun at least, interfere? You're his co-judges after all."

"Co-judges?" Tulip asked and yawned. "From what kind of world are you... sorry, forgot you were not from around these lands. No, we weren't Oldy's co-judges, he was the only one with the "authority" to decide a verdict. He was the one who brought up the whole town/council-idea after all, so he was elected – or rather announced – to be the head of the council, meaning head of the town. Strange story. He and his family once lived in a giant library full of pre-war lawyer-stuff, rubbed off on him. But it works fine, so nopony questions that. Shotgun and I are... delegates for the aspects of the town Old Timer sees himself not to be an expert in. Since my father taught me what I had to know about caravans routs and -trading I the contact pony – or at least, I will be the contact pony if it comes to setting up a caravan any time soon. Red Glare..." Tulip imitated the crimson stallion's facial expression as he had tried to "unmask" me. "...he used to be the caravan guard with the most convincing stories to tell, so he's in charge of the guards now..."

Okay then...

"What?! He's the head of security? The same pony who let the raiders and the Sparrow-griffin take your armory is the mastermind behind this town's defenses?" His red hide might made him look like a aggressive opponent, but from what I've seen the night before, he could barely handle a plasma pistol. "He should've been at least a little bit thankful. I helped him doing his job after all. Accusing me of espionage is a strange way to express that you're alive and not still besieging your own arsenal."

Tulip cracked a smile, but her chuckling was interrupted by another immense yawn.

"That's exactly why he's so pissed. You did his work and took those raiders, who were out of reach for us, out. You basically saved the town and that made him look bad. It was the first real test of his strategic and his combat abilities and then there comes this one pegasus and steals all the spotlight. Not that were would've been any spotlight for him at all, like you said, without you we would most likely still stand before the bunker, hoping for miracle. So the only way to lessen the damage done to his reputation is to make your reputation even worse. Nopony likes the treacherous spy after all, even if she happened to save the town. Of course they would've made it without your help then."

While the "just one judge" rule had sounded really alien to me, I was highly familiar with the latter. Big enclave city's politics used to be a lot like this.
A vertibuck landing on top of one of the school buildings of Neighvarro – who's bad was it?
The ambassador's Raptor being put on hold – whose fault was this?
A councilpony suddenly having a new foal – who was to blame?
Even in Lunar Rock, where there was usually not that kind of excessive politic intrigue – we couldn't afford a quarreling government, the griffins had been a constant threat once, and that mentality was still established in many pegasi's heads – there had been this incident with the overloaded maneuver, the week before I had seen the surface for the first time. I didn't remember who they decided to blame at the end, but the Neighvarroian councilor was forced to praise our acting in an almost embarrassing way, especially for his own home, since the Neighvarro pegasi always boasted about their own military being the most superiorestes in the entire universe.

We came across what seemed like the town's central place, the townsfolk guided us – or rather Tulip, since most of them still refused to look at or speak to me – into the right way towards the camp of the newcomers. For quite some time now I was smelling something I couldn't really assign, but it wasn't appetizing and as we arrived at one of the gates and stepped through it, I could see why I didn't like the smell:
Half a dozen of the guardponies stood in front of a large, smoking pile of what seemed to be pony-corpses. They were burning the raiders, Tulip explained, since they didn't deserve a "proper" "funeral". I wondered whether Angel would agree.

Trotting past this burning grave I tried not to look at, we approached a couple of tents, about two or three hundred meters away from the barricades of the town. Two of the ponies I had seen before were standing in front of the larges tent, easily as big as my cell had been. How they were transporting this giant was beyond me, but I think unicorn magic would be an appropriate explanation. Unicorns were weird. Inside the large housing stood the handsome yellow stallion, hunched over a desk with some maps – pre-war maps I assumed from the excellent condition – on it and was dictating something to a mare standing behind him. His eyes darted upwards as the guardponies announced our arrival.

"Hello again, my dear." he said, slapping on his smile again, and as he spotted Tulip next to me quickly added. "...my dears. Please, take a seat." He guided us over towards a small seating area in one of the corners of his tent and asked us if we would care for a drink. The last stallion who asked this of me had been Angel in Springmare. Since I had learned from my mistake back then, I didn't reject it and was rewarded with a small glass of a carrot-flavored liquid. It glowed. Slightly, but it glowed. But it also prickled softly as I downed it. Whatever it was, I doubted it was poisonous simply doubted it was poisonous. I hadn't drank something in... it felt like weeks, but it was mostly a three-fourths of a day.

"Ah, another pony with good taste." The stallion chuckled as I sat down the glass and gave Tulip, who was still levitating it in front of her face, eyeing it suspiciously, a smugly smile and assign his assistant to show the pink mare what other drinks they had in stock.
"Finally somepony who values a Sparkle Cola RAD." he said after the two mares had trotted away and refilled my glass. "They're pretty hard to get, but it's worth the price, don't you think? Anyway, I assume you're here for your job. Trust me, it's as easy as it sounds. The only thing you'll have to do is to accompany us while we travel to an old ruin in the desert and once we're there, I'll get you to the right place, you'll go inside and bring whatever's in there to us. And after that, we'll let you go."

I accidentally spit out my current sip of Sparkle Cola as he finished his last sentence.

"You..you'll let me go? But you gave the council..."

"Five thousand caps? Peanuts in comparison to what we'll get once we emptied that facility out. Consider it as a bonus for exemplary collaboration. But now let's address the dragon in the room: your payment. Considering you're not after the caps, but if so, we can agree on that too. So... anything on your mind? Don't be shy, there's almost nothing I can't offer you. Ask for whatever you want."

Whatever I wanted...
But since a time machine was something I considered one of the few things he weren't able to give me I decided otherwise.

"Earlier you said you were coming about due to your business. May I ask you if you... if you have seen other pegasi lately. Enclave ones I mean. You see, I've got some friends out there somewhere and we were attacked by raiders. Did you... see them? Were they...well? Alive?"
The businesspony seemed to gather his thoughts for a second, then he nodded.
And my heart exploded in joy.
"Can you... can you bring me to them after we're finished or maybe just point me into the right direction? That would be all the reward I would need. Maybe five hundred bottle caps, I've still got some depts to square, mister..."

"Of course, of course. Anything you want." he said while pushing me back into my seat again. In my excitement I had literally climbed the table between us. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for such an valuable and crucial member of our group..."

"Is that her, Silver Tongue?!" Somepony asked from the entrance. Definitely a female voice, but it wasn't Tulip's. Turning my head around I saw a pale, yet dirty orange mare standing next to the two guardponies. She was an unicorn, just like all the others, but her clothes didn't match quite their aesthetics. She was dressed in a tattered, purple hemmed red robe that covered her body from chest up to her hindlegs, but was cut short there, resulting in the lower half of her legs being still free. As were her forelegs, but those were covered in several holsters, none of them were holding a weapon, but bunch of screw drivers, spark batteries, several technical device thingies of unknown functions and something that looked like a set of bobby pins. Why would she or anypony carry bobby pins around? As far as I could tell, they weren't meant for her ginger mane, that was mussed up and just as dusty as the rest of the mare.
"Is that the one who's supposed to open the top of the treasure chest for us?"

The yellow stallion, apparently his name was Silver Tongue, nodded and rose from his seat.

"Indeed, that's her. We just negotiated her payment and are ready to leave any minute. Allow me to introduce..."

"That isn't necessary, I'll do that myself." The orange mare stepped closer towards me. She was barely older than me, if she was older at all, as I saw now, but life in the wasteland had left visible traces on her face, making her look both older and intimidating. As I tried to avoid direct eye contact my eyes spotted two vaguely familiar markings on her red robe: a set of gears, a sword bisecting them and all of that stuffed into a apple-shaped frame. The logo of the Ministry of Wartime Technology.
"Can't say it's a pleasure to meet you, pegasus, but since you're of the party now I can just as well introduce myself: Hi. Your name doesn't matter. I'm Scribe Gingerbread of the Steel Rangers, wider area Trottingham."

"But Trottingham's more than..." I tried to remember a pre-war map I had once seen in one of the enclave museums, showing the relative location of several enclave cities to the mayor cities of the pre-war Equestria. "...it's very far away."

"Yes, that's why I said wider area, featherbrain. So, did Silver told you about what we're heading for." I shook my head. That it should be easy was all I knew for now. "Good. The lesser you know the better. Just catch that we haven't recruited you for your character, your skills or your good looks. I heard you shot three raiders in the back last night, well buh huh huh, good for you, but we don't need somepony like you. Your wings are the only reason we're giving you the opportunity to do something productive. So gather whatever you want to take with you and make yourself ready to go. We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

And with that the orange mare turned around again and left the tent, leaving Silver Tongue and the confused me behind. I noticed just now I was shaking slightly.

"Yeah... okay, so now you know her too. The Steel Rangers are our customer for this mission and their elder, or whatever superior they have, lacked of anything better to do than sending us the most grumpy scribe I've ever seen or heard of, so... we have to deal with her. Junior Scribe Gingerbread, that's who she really is, though she hates being called like that. Just keep that in mind."

A rumbling sound from outside the tent forced the two of us to end our talk again, because the pony that now entered Silver Tongue's base of operation was no other than Angel. He look tired and he was a bit out of breath, but it was him, his and my saddle bags strapped to his bag.

"I want to join you too. No payment, just go with you." The grey buck coughed as he unscrewed a bottle of water he had levitated out of his bag and took a deep sip. "Please. I was a caravan guard for the last ten years. Another pair of guns between you and whatever lives out there's nothing you can get that cheap very often."

"Agreed." the yellow stallion said and clopped his hooves together. "Since a no-pay contract doesn't need any paperwork, you're in. Get your stuff, we're leaving in ten minutes."

They didn't lie about the whole thing taking place in the middle of a desert. For five or six or seven hours now we were marching through a featureless landscape of sand and a few tiny rocks now and then. The only plus side: there were no monsters or raiders or other ponies either.
After Angel had successfully joined our "science expedition" as Silver Tongue had jestingly named the party, we had watched the business unicorns pulling their own baggage together, literally. They folded the large tent so many times it easily fit into one of their saddle bags. Unicorn magic.
We said good bye to Tulip, who was just now returning with a glass of water, thanked her for what she had done for us and after that Angel levitated a piece of paper over to her, saying it was in case they reconsidered their plan to settle down here.

And after that we set off. Our group now consisted of six businessponies, the four I had seen before, Silver Tongue and one additional one who had guarded their camp, Angel, me, Gingerbread and her two bodyguards, cased in a bulky, grey power armor. It looked slightly like the shining armor the Silverish Guard of Lunar Rock used, but it looked a bit battered, the steel was dull, several parts were obviously broken and patched up with scrap metal and instead of metal wings, two boxes were strapped to their sides. Those were no saddle bags, but heavy battle saddles incorporated in the power armor, like the ones the enclave soldiers used, the only difference was the bulkiness and the size of the barding.

The two "body guards" were Steel Rangers themselves, as Angel told me on the way through the desert. A group of heavily armed ponies, founded before the war and with a strong connection to the Ministry of Wartime Technology. Their firepower was exceeding every other known faction of the Equestrian Wasteland except fo the enclave military – if you could count the Enclave as a wasteland faction. They were collecting and preserving technology and searched pre-war facilities that weren't rifled yet. Gingerbread on the other hoof was a scribe – or junior scribe if Silver Tongue was to be trusted. They were the brains behind all the Rangers' operations, sighting, sizing, cataloging and archiving the tech their muscles, the rangers, dragged along.
In contrast to their leader the two rangers were at least not rubbing my nose in their disapproval, since they were silent most of the time.

I could see now why they were associated with the company of the buisnessponies, though I didn't understand why they needed to. From what I could see their armor and weapons would protect them from who- or whatever wasn't scared away by them. But neither of the two leaders nor their henchponies were talkative about their motives. But except for Silver Tongue and Angel, nonpony in our group seemed talkative at all.

The afternoon sun was already setting as we reached a large rock formation and the yellow stallion gave us the signal to stop. Whatever was our destination was, apparently we had reached it.

"We're here." Silver Tongue announced, pointing a hoof at the mountain of rocks. "The storage facility of the StTRDUbATiAwMoA." He had to make several attempts and looked at his map about ten times to utter the last acronym. And I had thought the ETRFABT, the Enclave Research Facility for Airborne Battle Technology – basically the pegasi who tried to maintain enclave battle saddles, energy weapons and aircrafts – was a name that was hard to memorize. But no! the pre-war ponies had a habit of making everything more complicated than it already was.
"Its full name is Stable-Tec Research Department for Unusual but Awesome Technology in Association with the Ministry of Awesome" he added with a look at my questioning face. "But usually it's simply called the Stable Tech Storeroom. It's much catchier. Now watch out for whatever kind of entrance might lead in there."

We split up in all directions. Was this the action they needed me for? Circling above some rocks, trying to spot a door or a cave or something looking like an entrance, that seemed almost too easy to pay somepony for. No, this couldn't be my task, it was said it involved pushing buttons. So it would most likely take place inside the... building/cave/storeroom, whatever it would turn out to be.

Rocks, rocks, rocks, nothing but the same rocks again and again.
Scanning the landscape beneath me only halfhearted I started to think about what we were searching for. The StTRandsoon. In association with the Ministry of Awesome, the ministry lead by the infamous Rainbow Dash. The Traitor. Every pegasus learned about her and Fluttershy in school, but while there were loads and loads of information about the Ministry of Peace, the only thing we really knew about the MoA was that there was nothing to know about it. Most of its hubs were storage rooms for other ministries' gear and stuff, nothing interesting.

And now we were searching for a research facility that had something to do with that most unproductive of all ministries. It felt strange, but I would have a story to tell once I was reunited with my friends. My still living friends my brain added and my heart cheered again.

"I've got it!" a voice from below called out and as I landed next to the mare the others had already crowded around her and what she had found. The dark navy mare was standing before a large foothill and wiped away the dust covering a small... terminal. Built into a rock? In contrast to the other surface terminal I had seen yet, this one looked pretty much intact and strangely clean, its screen was glowing in a soft cyan light. "I think... I think it's locked"

"Get out of the way, I'll have a look on that." Gingerbread and the two Steel Rangers shoved themselves through the small crowd – actually the two bucks shoved and she just followed them – nudging a few ponies, myself included, out of their way. The pale orange whipped out one of her technical devices and connected it to the terminal, but after only ten seconds she snorted in contempt. "It's not locked, you dumb pony, it's wide open in fact. The only thing you have to do..." she detached her device from the terminal again and pressed her hoof against a small, virtual button on the screen. "...is to press the OPEN key."

With a loud crackle and a lot of falling stones the escarpment on our left drifted apart, revealing a large and shiny steel door. Ministry of Awesome was written on the top and a storm cloud with a black and white lightning bolt beneath it covered the central ring of the gate. With a low hiss, the ring turned rotated once, then several yellow and red lights came to life as it opened.
Silent and with awe we stepped inside.

On the inside it looked... untidy.
The storeroom's elongated foyer looked as if a sand storm had ripped through it a long time ago. The metal floor was covered in dirt, dust and smaller rocks. Clip boards and sheets of paper, the usual litter, were lying all over the place and the glass window of the reception counter was smashed. I couldn't spot anything I would classify as valuable. Apparently somepony had been here before.

"Are we... too late?" I asked hesitantly. That didn't look good. Bye bye freedom.

"No, we've just been here before." One of the Steel Rangers said, his voice muffled by his heavy helmet. "A few schematics for unfunctional battle saddles, one or two beam rifles, three crates with spark grenades and disruptor ammunition, a shitload of sensor modules and a broken small framed minigun, that was it. One big pratfall if you ask me."

"Don't talk to her." Gingerbread hissed as she trotted past us. "There's only one reason she's here, and that reason isn't to entertain you. So, can you start now? We don't have all day."

Silver Tongue nodded and stepped to my side.

"Indeed. Follow me, Feather, as I promised I'll take you to the place you're needed the most. And you lot..." he turned towards the crowd of ponies that had spread out among the destroyed furniture of the foyer, "you should search the room. Maybe your prior troops forgot something. Gingerbread, you should stay with them. I promise we won't steal whatever's hidden behind this door, become invisible and sneak past you. If the door's open I'll call for you, okay?" He smiled, the orange mare looked highly displeased, but obeyed his command. He really had a silver tongue. And with a final nod towards his fellow businessponies he added. "Take care of whatever's left."

We strode the foyer and another MoA logo door opened as we stepped close. Angel wanted to come with us, but his request was instantly denied by both the rangers and the businessponies. The cocks of his weapons clicked back not until the small crowd and I myself made an attempt to persuade him, I with the most heart-melting look I was capable of and the other... by readying their own weapons.
Behind the gate was a elevator, labeled "Vault". Silver Tongue levitated a small card out of one of his pockets and held it in front of a grey and yellow striped field at the right end of the lift.
The door slid close behind us and a bright blue light filled the chamber for a few seconds, then there was a *bing* and a female, but indubitable mechanic voice announced: Keycard accepted. Welcome CEO Scootaloo. Warning: For reasons of safety and mental stability only two ponies are allowed to enter the vault at once. The maximum of two passengers is reached. The elevator will start moving now. Have a nice day.
And just as the voice had said the lift started rattling down its shaft immediately.

"What's done there to justify a regulation like this?" I asked to bridge the silence. How deep down were we going? From what I heard the lift was moving Celestia-damn fast, we had been driving for a few minutes now and still hadn't reached our destination. "I mean: reasons of mental stability? What is it, that they stash it away that deep underground?"

"I don't know. The last scribe and I made this ride once, but all we found was a locked door, the one you are supposed to open. Whatever it is, the Steel Rangers believe it might be something very, very important and I'm willing to believe them. MoA bunkers hold, if any at all, few but very precious pre-war treasures. It might be a piece of armor that makes its wearer invincible, maybe it's some kind of unlimited power-source, a weapon of mass destruction or even a megaspell. Whatever it is, that it is hidden away is reason enough for them to get their hooves on it." he said with a little bit of disdain in his voice. "And after they got it they'll stash it away, to "preserve" it. Nopony will ever use it again. But since they're the only ponies of the wasteland with the knowledge about how to read those pre-war maps, we have to choose, whether we let them or the wasteland keep it. The wasteland may not pay me beforehand, but maybe..."

Before he could elaborate his thoughts any further the elevator door slid open again and we stepped out. I had expected a gap, an unscalable altitude difference or something like that, but what I saw now was just twenty meters of tunnel, leading towards a lonely door of steel and glass. No large gate like the two before, with the storm cloud on them, this looked just like normal security door in Lunar Rock. I took a few steps into the tunnel and looked for something that looked more like I would be able to do something, but nope!, no junction, no other doors, just the dark corridor and the shiny door at its end.

"Why am I here?" I asked, turning my head towards the yellow stallion. "I don't see what my wings can do here. There's nothing a skilled technician like Gingerbread can't do better than me..."

"It's not about how skilled you are." he responded and signaled me to follow him through the darkness and towards the light. "Like Gingerbread told you, even if it was quite rude, we didn't recruit you for your skills or your good looks. We took you with us for what you are and your wings are only one piece of your nature. Every of the three pony races is different on the inside too and that is why we need you. You see..."
He trotted towards the door and held his hoof against a lighted grey area next to it. There was beep, a noise as if something small sprang out and cut through flesh. With a hiss, Silver Tongue pulled back his hoof, a small, bleeding wound on its bottom.
Then the female elevator voice spoke again:
Access denied. DNA sample doesn't match paradigma. Activate audio-message:

Another voice started to speak. Not a synthetic one, but the voice of an actual pony. A recording:

"Pony who seeks what is stored here: turn your back on this vault. Your DNA sample doesn't match the precept. You're no pegasus, so what is save inside this bunker is of no use for you. Leave for your own sake. "

"See now why we need you?" he said while his magic was wrapping a healing bandage around his wounded hoof. "That thing won't let one of us in there, telling us that's dangerous to go inside, that trying is futile and that we wouldn't have any use for what's in there, since we are no pegasi. Trust me, the last Rangers tried everything to breach this door, they even tried to remove the walls around it, but nothing worked. But you... you can open the door, get inside and bring whatever's in there out."

"Or maybe... maybe we should leave, like the voice said." I said with a low voice for no reason. Whatever was hidden behind this door, it made my feathers stood on end. "I mean, it's pretty clear that what's in there is pretty dangerous and won't be of any use for the Steel Rangers. I have to admit, the whole thing seems... I'm not... comfortable with the whole thing."

"I'm not comfortable with it either, believe me, I thought the exact same thing as I stood before this door the first time and I tried to convince him as well. But Steel Rangers... don't really think about stuff like that when it comes to technology. Like I said: they tried everything to get in there. But I think it's the best for all of us, if we do what they want us to do. They paid me and I paid for your freedom, so we... owe them and I begrudge saying so. So please," he took a few steps backwards and pointed his hoof at the grey panel. "do what you're supposed to do. Try to think of something nice, then it won't hurt at all."

I gulped. He was right. I owned them. But I still felt really, really uneasy as I approached the door and took off armored hoofguards.

Okay, Feather, think of soaring through the skies and raise...Ouch!
A siren went off as the small needle that had pierced into my hoof drew back and with a soft thump a transparent glassy wall closed the opening behind me. I could see Silver Tongue looking shocked and being frozen in place, then the steel door behind me opened with a hiss and bright white light blinded me.

Get a hold of yourself, featherbrain! There are no killer robots or zombies in there. You are a pegasus, the voice said – well, indicated – that it isn't dangerous for pegasi.
I took one last breath and stepped through the door.

The bright white light faded as soon as I had paced the door, but to make things worse again, said door closed behind me again. After my eyes recovered form the sensual overload and I opened them again, I found myself inside a long room, maybe fifty square meters, with a operating table at the hind wall. It was attached to the wall and fortunately nopony hang on it. And apart from that, there was... nothing. No weapons, no computers, no furniture, heck! not even the usual litter.
The room was completely empty, except for the operating table.
As I took my first steps forward a static crackling noise erupted out of nowhere and a voice started to talk. It was the same voice as the one before. Not the computer voice, but the mare's from earlier:

Post-War Protocol 1.4.13
Scootaloo here, you might... no, you won't know me. You won't know anything anymore. But that's not your fault, it's ours...
Hello there, whoever you might be. If you hear this specific audio message, that means that none of our employers has pressed the reset-button and that means that this is at least the sesquicentenary of the last day of pony kind. I don't know how things are out there in Equestria now, but I guess it's bad. Our scientist have predicted a uninhabitable wasteland, but since you're here now, that means we managed to save at least one pony.

You know what: screw all this. Screw the introduction, the long and sad sob story about what has gone wrong or why it's entirely our own fault. I made too many of those Luna... Celestia... of those damn recordings. One year, two years, five, ten, fifty years and one for every damn Stable, I don't want to do this anymore!
Calm down, Scoots.

Okay, you might have noticed the Auto-Doc at the end of this room. It's connected to this installation's main power-source. A piece of... science. It powers this whole facility on its own and to top it all, it's merely hoof-sized. We at Stable-Tec and the Ministry of Awesome worked hard for that piece of technology, it's a gift for all of... for what is left of Equestria. A way of independent energy, that would make this whole stupid war lapse. But since you're hearing this message... destiny was faster. It obviously didn't manage to stop the war, but maybe it can help the ponies who survived it.

The Auto-Doc will... equip you with this device, so you can bring its blessing to your fellow ponies. Unfortunately I can't let you leave without... forcing you to take that blessing. The door behind you will open again once the procedure's completed. I'm sorry for that, but it's for your... no, for pony kind's good. Might work, might not, but it's worth a shot, trust me.

There'll be a manual on how to use it, it'll explain everything I can't.
Scootaloo out.

I eyed the table at the end of the room with suspicion. I didn't want to know, how exactly this Auto-Doc-thing would "give" me the science-power-device-thingy, but the door behind me was sealed until I would embrace whatever this mare, this Scootaloo, was willing to give to me or another pegasus would open it. And I couldn't wait that long! My friends were out there and I would see them again, once I had finished this last inconvenience. And whatever it was, I doubted it would be as painful as getting shot in the leg or... killing another pony.
Trotting towards the ominous apparatus felt like reporting to my father when I had been a little filly and had done something wrong. It felt like marching into my doom. The black walls did nothing to lighten the mood.

The metallic table looked even more ominous as I had arrived. A pony-shaped pit was engraved on the steel plate. I couldn't see any operation equipment, that made me feel a little bit better, but the seven metal rings, that would hold down my legs, my wings and my head, drowned this spark of hope again. Oh, dear...

I reared up and pressed my back against the metallic surface and hoped for both nothing and something to happen. A smart move, that way I felt relieved as the metal rings snapped shut, pinning me on the table. I sent a prayer to Celestia and Luna as the operating table moved – dear Celestia, it moved – and brought me to a horizontal position. There were several clicking noises, I couldn't turn my head, but I felt that numerous needles pierce my forelgs, my hindlegs, my entire body, even my wings. And almost immediately my whole body felt numb. After that a robotic arm emerged from the ceiling, holding a mask and attached it to my muzzle.

A narcosis, goddesses be blessed!

But... why was I still awake? Wasn't a narcosis supposed to... put me to sleep?
A red light was blinking next to the robotic arm and the synthetic voice announced:

Error: narcotics either corrupted or the supply system damaged. Patient will be conscious. Operation proceeds. Medical advice: Think of something nice. Here are a few examples: the sun, the moon, a cloud, a mare, a stallion, a sip of Sparkle Cola...

Oh, I tried to think of one of those, but my mind was dominated my the images of my body getting sliced open by buzzsaws. I was most thankful that I couldn't move my head as the Auto-Doc started butchering me.

I didn't know how long I had laid on that gruesome machine, but after a period of time – could have been hours or minutes – the metal straps disappeared into their casings in the steel again. For a few moments I couldn't believe that this... operation had ended. I had imagined it lasting for ever and ever, but now it was finished. For real!
I sat up most carefully and tried to move my limbs. It worked, much to my surprise. This anesthetic had worn off just the right moment. I was either damn lucky or those pre-war doctors knew how to anesthetize a pony. That sounded somehow wrong...
My gaze wandered to my side, to my limbs, my forelegs and with a gasp I saw...
...that nothing had changed. No leg or wing was missing, my hide was still white and even that one scar by the Hyenas was still there. It looked as if nothing had happened at all.
Maybe all of this had been just a tasteless joke?

I rolled down the table and tried to land with the grace a pegasus was famous for, but instead I bumped to the ground. Obviously, being able to move your limbs and them being at their full strength were two different pairs of horseshoes. Grumbling I heaved myself up again as a bright light flashed across my vision. Again.
I covered my eyes with my wings, but the light was to bright and penetrated the feathers, so I closed my eyes, but it didn't disappear either, it was... by Celestia, the light was inside my head!
And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone again. Weird.

Hello, new owner of the PegasusBuck 20 "Salvation"

This message is fully automated and will start playing five minutes after the device is

activated and connected to your neural system.

I shrieked as a mechanic voice began to speak... inside my head!

Your body has been upgraded with the most advanced piece of technology this Stable-Tec

facility ever produces, so be proud.

While you're hearing this words, the Salvation collects your body's vital data and sets up the

Body Monitoring Spell (BMS), the Eyes Forward Sparkle (EFS) and Inventory

Management Spell (IMS). Note the two last features are activated by a thought and

further controlled by your own hooves. Think "Activate EFS" now, to activate your EFS.

Don't tell me what to think... damn it I had thought it!

An unusual EFS compass appeared at the top end of my... vision. That freaked me out! The Enclave military gave us special visors that would show us this radar-system, but now...
It was of a cyan blue and showed both the cardinal directions and one lonely dot straight in front of me. Silver Tongue. He was still there.

Think "Deactivate EFS" now to deactivate your EFS.

And it was gone.

Activate EFS – there it was.
Deactivate EFS – it was gone.

Awesome! Maybe not everything is bad.

Combat system is prepared, please stand by.

Wait, what? Combat?

Slowly I trotted towards the steel door again, and to my relieve, it opened with the same soft hiss than before. Scootaloo hadn't lied about that. Outside stood the yellow buck and his eyes widened, as I left the now completely dark room. He looked tired and a little bit angry, quite understandable, since I had been inside this room for at least an hour.

"Did you find something in there?" he asked with a yawn.

I hesitated. Yes, I had found something, but... I couldn't give it to him, nor the Steel Rangers, neither willingly nor unwillingly. That thing, the Salvation, it was a part of me now. I shook my head.

"You... you didn't find anything? That... that's impossible!" he reared up and bucked both his forelegs against the wall with a loud crack. "We were sure about something big being stored here, now we go in and there's nothing. That... that cannot be!" Another enraged apple-buck against the wall. "We paid thousands and thousands of caps, we eliminated those rangers and what for? For nothing! This! Is! Impossible!"

Suddenly he seemed to notice my guilty expression. I couldn't help but to look at least a little bit guilty, I was playing him after all.

"Except of course... what if you're lying." He fell on all four legs again and looked at me, gloweringly. "What if you found something in there, but want to keep it for yourself. Let me ask you one simple question: what have you done in there for the last two hours."

So it had been two hours... that was a long time.

"What have you done in there!" Silver Tongue shouted. "You have found something, I can see it in your eyes! You're a filthy feathered thief, nothing more. You tried to betray me, the one who saved you! The one who bought you your freedom!" His forelegs pressed me against the steel door behind me and I gasped for air. "Give it to me!"

"I... I can't..." I stammered, gasping for air. "It's of no use for you..."

"I don't care. I want what you found in there. Give it to me!" he growled, murder in his eyes.

"That... that's impossible. It's... it's inside me... I can't..."

Suddenly his hooves disappeared and I was able to breath again, but not for long, since his magic grasped my own forelgs and then he chucked me down to the ground with enormous force. I lay on my back and was just about to rise again, as the stallion's forelegs pressed my wings to the ground again, making me cry in agony. He was lying on top of me now and I could feel his heavy breathing on my face.

"So... it's inside you, huh? Well, there will be something else inside you soon, thief. And it won't be over in two hours, no, I'll make it last."

My heartbeat accelerated as I understood what he was about to do.
No, no, I would let that happen! I had to do something.

I tried to kick him, but his own hindlegs were pressing mine down.
I tried to swing my forelegs at his face, but his magic hold both of them down.
Both of them?

No, somehow the magical field around my right foreleg imploded and I punched his face as hard as I could. But apart from him becoming even more angry and an horned headbutt it didn't accomplish anything.

In my desperation I set my right hoof against his forehead, closed my eyes and tried to push him away from me.
I didn't want this to happen!

Salvation Combat Mode fully active.

Adrenaline detected! Danger ahead.

Isolate Moonstone element.

He uttered a gurgling cry and as I opened my eyes again, I was blinded by a white and golden light that was bathing my face now. And I hold my breath as I saw what happened to Silver Tongue's face, from where this light was coming:

It is said, the eyes are windows to a pony's soul.

If that was true, then, right now, I was watching his soul burn.

Level up: Level 8

Skill(s): Unarmed 25

New Perk added: Savior of the Surface

"I do as I am told, because I'm a good pony."
You have been given the important task to spread... whatever Scootaloo meant across the Equestrian Wasteland. Nopony can stop you on your Holy Mission. Your Damage Threshold (DT) increases by 3 even if you're not wearing armor.

Quest Perk added: Reflex Booster

"Two down, three hundred to go."
Due to the cybernetic implants of the PegasusBuck 20 your Agility increases by 1

Quest Perk added: Salvation

"And Celestia said: Let there be light. And the light scorched all evil."
A tap on an enemy's head activates the internal Moonstone-powered combat systems of the Salvation, that disrupts his/her magic abilities and burns away their souls. A Salvation kill won't grant you any Experience Points, nor does it trigger any other kill-related perks. A Salvation kill can only be applied to one enemy at a time and only when you are in melee range.
But be careful: Stronger souls take longer to burn.