Chapter 7: An Interview with Destiny

Everything led to this. For years – no, decades – I had trained, tested and honed my skills, slaving away in the Stable, studying the archives of and pre-war footage I was privileged to own. My acute understanding every scene, angle, shot and shell guaranteed my ticket to stardom as the best Talon ever. I had calculated it at weeks, maybe months before my name would become wasteland wide. When the mere mention of Talons or mercenaries comes up in any conversation they’ll think of one name… no; first they’ll think of a dozen different titles and then they’ll think of a name. One name. One name only.

“Gillet.”

“Sweetie, are you reciting your tough guy speeches again?”

“No, mum!”

“Well, you better wrap them up. We’re nearly there.”

With a few quick bursts of my wings I caught up with mum. She stared ahead with a small smirk, maintaining altitude with minimal effort. If Gwynne said I had natural talent for flying, mum was on a whole different level. She could go for days with a vague bearing and a weighty package and still make any delivery. I always got lost after more than twenty minutes of straight flying. I wasn’t good with bearings, altitudes and directions… but, I knew that for the last few hours we had been flying south because through the cloud-cover I could tell the sun was setting to my left which is east… I think.

I knew that at the southern of Equestria there was one particular city with boundless opportunities for mercenaries like myself. Yet, mum had instead lead me to a measly cluster of a pre-war houses and shacks? I mean, I saw caravan coiled out the front with ponies resting around a fire, but that’s all. There was nothing here; no gunfights; no Talons and no raiders needing to be shot.

“I thought Fillydelphia was bigger.”

“Gillet, I told you before we left Friendship City! I am not taking you to Fillydelphia! In fact, I remember explicitly forbidding you to go anywhere near Fillydelphia!”

“But mum! That’s where all the Talons are going!” I shouted back, empowered by my conviction and facts; everything I touted was completely true. I had done my research; snooping around bars, eavesdropping on mum talking business and listened in on the local Talon chatter. It had all led me to one conclusion: Fillydelphia was on the rise. Every pony and griffon who could hold a gun or throw a punch were on their way there to make a name for themselves and I was not going to miss out! “It’s an opportunity I can’t afford to miss!”

“Gillet! Fillydelphia’s a – look at me when I am talking to you!” Begrudgingly I rolled my eyes back to her, but not without an annoyed sigh. “Fillydelphia’s a no fly zone! It’s always been a horrible place but now it’s much, much worse.” Mum pointed to her left; on the horizon I could make out a faint yellow hue, silhouettes of ruined skyscrapers and pillars of smoke reaching for the clouds. “That… pit of a city was crawling with raiders and gangers before but now they’re organized. Somepony or griffon is herding those fiends about, raiding settlements and enslaving others. Those heartless bloodletters you call Talons are the ones doing his dirty work.”

“What’s the problem then? If he’s got the Talons on his side and the raiders under control then the safest place to be would be with them!”

Mum just stared at me, looking… appalled? “No son of mine will ever be a slaver! Great Egg, Gillet, I thought you wanted to be loved, not feared!” she exclaimed. I fluttered backwards, flinching a little as I took the full brunt of my thoughtless comment. “Just think of all the love and adoration you’ll get from those slaves as you whip the flesh from their bones! As you work them to their deaths! Is that what you want? Is it!?”

“N-No…”

“Well, if herding ponies to a slow, agonizing demise makes you uncomfortable then I guess they’ll find another use for you. Perhaps the senior Talons could use some more diversions or flying targets for the Steel Rangers.”

“Steel Rangers? Oh they’re tough but I know their weakness!” Out came my shotgun and a single shell. “I’ll just aim for the head, where the eyes slots are. Just like Indiana did when she took out all those cyber-zebras. They might be tough but they’ve got a weak spot I know about. I’ll just exploit it.”

The praise I expected for my frankly brilliant idea did not come. Instead a long silence punctuated only by mine and mum’s wing flapping filled the air. “Do you know why I’m taking you down here? A place far away from Manehatten? Do you know why I am forbidding you to go anywhere near Fillydelphia? To join a band of cutthroats throwing raiders and Talons at Steel-Rangers?” Mum was ranting so on queue I just shook my head or nodded. This time I shook. “Remember that Talon Squad hired by Tenpony to keep the raiders away? The one I was going to ask to take you on as a junior?”

“Well… yeah. ‘Course I do! Why’d we fly all the way out here then?”

“They’re gone. Steel Rangers wiped them out. Every single one of them,” Mum said coldly and quietly, her brow easing from a frown into a sad grimace. “The Talons first, then they marched into their compound and slaughtered everyone. The trainees, the Junior Talons and the non-combatants. Why? They just happened to be in the road and had some munitions. Not even pony weapons and armour; all griffon make and still they were gunned down for it. DJ said maybe one survived and that he or she left Manehatten far, far behind.”

Mum and I understood each other… usually. Though she didn’t belong to any squad and had rebuked many offers, I could still see how much their loss got to her.

“Now do you understand? Do you see why I don’t want you working anywhere near them?” Mum asked softly. I blinked finally, wiping a small tear away with my talons discreetly. “I know you think you can take them on. That you think you can take anything on. I have seen some Talons use that trick before. It is valid-”

“I knew it!”

“-IF, Gillet! IF you had something stronger than a farmer’s scatter-gun. Those pellets won’t punch through an armoured visor. I can tell you that as a fact.”

“… Dangit.”

“And even then it’s still not worth the risk. That’s why I brought you to a small, remote town they wouldn’t bother with.” Mum smiled and I returned a small one. “Do you understand?”

“Yes mum. I’m sorry.”

“I just want you to be safe. That’s all.” We resumed flight, approaching the town border before starting our descent. Now that I was a little closer, the town didn’t look entirely deserted. I guess there could be something down there to shoot, some tin cans at the very least.

We touched down underneath a lit lamp near the outskirts of town. It was eerily quiet, except for the songs and chatter from a nearby tavern.

“You saw the coil of caravans near the city entrance?” mum asked, after drawing my attention with a snap of her talons.

“The trade convoy?” I answered.

“And how do you know they’re traders?”

I thought back briefly, to one of Indiana’s documentaries where she played a desperado raiding zebra caravans for priceless treasures stolen from Equestria. “Cause the caravans were in a circle, which gives them some cover at night?”

“Very good, sweetie,” Mum said with a bright smile. “This is Camp City. It’s a trading town I’ve heard fair amount of talk over my recent deliveries. It’s small and out of the way, perfect place to find some modest opportunities to get you started. Who knows, you might even find a nice courier job!”

I rolled my eyes, like I’d done every other time mum pushed the courier thing onto me.

“Now, you haven’t forgotten anything have you?”

“No mum, I haven’t.”

“Shotgun, shells…”

“… revolver, bullets, leather armour, bobby pins, Contract...” I slipped my talons into the front pocket of my leather vest but found it empty! I specifically made sure to pack it before I left! It must have slipped out along the way! “Mum!”

“Just remember, I won’t be here next time you lose it.” She smiled; held in-between her talons was a shred of parchment. Written on one side was my signature.

I took back my Contract feeling as if the lamppost above glowed with triple intensity. “Thanks mum,” I mumbled quietly to the ground.

“That’s okay sweetie. Now remember; look for jobs you can sign on to with others. Traders and merchants are your best bets for employment but listen to them carefully when ironing out payment. Always try and take half now and half when you finish the job. Ask if they’ll provide ammunition and supplies and only hand your Contract over to the pony running the job.” Then mum grabbed me by the shoulders. I went completely limp in response. “I know you love telling tall tales and exaggerating the truth just slightly, but this is not the place to do it.”

“Mum, I won’t.”

“You’ll be talking to a lot of veteran wastelanders, sweetie. You won’t win them over with a drink and some acting,” mum said, letting go of me. “And you’re not Gwynne. Do not try to intimidate them.”

“Jeez mum! I won’t, Okay! And I don’t need Gwynne to be all… all big an’ scary an’ stuff! I can do that on my own!” I puffed my feathers, opened my wings slightly and tried best to scowl as hard as I could.

Mum just laughed. “My! How imposing! I’m sure all those hardened wastelanders will be quaking in their seats! You just remember what I said when they start beating you to a pulp,” she said, chuckling a little after. As I attempted to increase the intensity of my glare, mum swept me in a great griffon hug; wrapping her wings and forearms around me in a cocoon of feathers and warmth. “I won’t expect you home any time soon. Just remember to try your best, make some friends and stay safe. Alright?”

“I will, mum.” I said, briefly wrapping my forearms and wings around her before realizing what his could do to my reputation. Talon Mercenaries are known for fighting, not hugging! “And what about you!” I said, now holding her at arm’s length. “Are you going to be alright without me around?”

She blinked twice before exploding in laughter.

“Mum! Stop it! Someone’s gonna hear you!” I pleaded, glancing sideways down the street. “This isn’t helping me!”

Regardless, mum refused to relent for what felt like my longest movie. I just sat down on the sidewalk and waited for her to calm down from something that was not as funny as she was making it out to be.

“Sweetie, I’ll be fine! I’ve got Gwynne and Nickel for company,” she said, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “You needn’t worry about me. Just yourself.”

To be honest; I didn’t like what she said. Spending time with Gwynne was an excuse make jokes and talk about me. I also had my suspicions about all the time she spent with Nickel. “Well, okay… I guess… but if you need me-”

“Then I will come and get you,” mum said with a sense of finality. “Now, I think you’ve stalled enough.”

“I ain’t stalling!”

“Of course not, sweetie. Of course not.” Mum placed her talons on my shoulder and we shared a short silent exchange. This simple motion conveyed more feelings and an expression of equality between her and I than any compliment, hug or words ever had. I appreciated it deeply and found my eyes itching slightly when she let go. “I’ll see you, when I see you.”

Mum took flight, quickly vanishing into the cloudy night sky. I stayed still for a moment, leaning back against the lamppost as I spared a few minutes mulling some lingering thoughts over.

No, I didn’t cry.

Taverns! Taverns are where all the action goes down!

The watering-hole where old war buddies exchange tales of strife and conflict fighting long-forgotten battles against friends and foes. They captivate audiences with vivid memories and gripping, dramatic recounts.

A seedy pub crawling with all the wrong types. Mysterious ponies in trench-coats selling illicit material, harmful substances and pilfered weapons to equally malicious mercenaries, while on the side assassins and freelancers wait patiently for the next anonymous contractor.

Or a lively saloon! Where the music’s’ loud, the hens are cheap and the chance of a good fight among patrons is relative to the amount of drinks served.

This bar had a little of each. Imposing bouncers and guards watched the patrons closely while also partaking in drinks and other fun wasteland activities like pool, darts and drinking to the point where you vomit. The patrons themselves on the other talon were a colourful cast but none resembled merchants so I turned my attentions to a jobs board only to find rusted nails and maybe enough scraps of paper to create a jigsaw wanted poster.

Feeling a little dismayed, I pondered my next course of action. Should I wait for a bar fight so I could demonstrate my skills or should I start a bar fight and demonstrate my skills? It was a very tough call.

“Looking for work?” a voice said to my right.

Rustled from my long and complicated train of thought, I turned to the pony. “I might be. Got anything interesting for me?” The first thing I recognized when I turned to this pony was his hat. The peaked cap he wore bore a Sun, Moon and a wreath; the rank of a Major in the pre-war Equestrian military. “… Sir.” I added hastily.

The pony smirked, his eyes hidden under the band of his cap. “Sir, huh? Take a seat, Talon. I may just have a job that’s needs a little extra griffon power,” he offered directing hoof to an empty table. Moments ago I swore there was a crusty looking ghoul sitting here complaining that the drinks hurt his gums. “

I was a little giddy having just been addressed a real Talon, but something he said resonated with what mum had told me earlier. ‘Extra griffon power’ as in there were already Talons on the job? What a score! A mission and the opportunity to network! Just as we sat down, I opened with some eager questions. “What’s the job? Is it shooting? I’m good at shooting!”

“I’ll get to that later. How about drink first? On me.” He whistled and waved his hoof at the bartender. Seconds later a frothy mug of beer was levitated to our table and dropped before me.

“Nice service!” Being a Major sure had its perks! He must have worked hard and sacrificed so much to get where he was today. “Do you run this place?”

“Let’s say I do,” he answered, readjusting his Major’s cap. “What brings a prospective Talon like you to my establishment? Surely you can’t be out of work?”

“Out of work? I’m always looking for more work!” I dropped my mug back to the table without actually drinking. That could wait. Impressing the Major was more important. “I’m looking to make myself known! To carve my name in the wasteland and I’m going to do it by being the best Talon there is!”

“Some lofty goals you’ve got there. Let’s drink to that.”

I glanced down at the mug tentatively. Should I? I certainly hadn’t before since I was strictly forbidden to. Though, mum wasn’t here… and he was offering. It would be impolite to turn away the beverage. Slowly, I gripped the mug and raised it up to my beak. I’ll admit; I did not care for the aroma.

THUD.

I leapt from my set, quick-drawing my .22 revolver from underneath my wing. I snapped to the disturbance eager to demonstrate my abilities but found the opportunity sorely disappointing. It was just a lowly drunk; a light brown pony had fallen off his stool and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes and tin cans. The bartender abandoned his post and dragged him out to the back with the help of another guard. At least they were kind enough not to dump him out in the cold for the night.

“Some ponies just can’t handle their drinks,” commented the Major with a light chuckle. “I heard griffons were remarkably resistant to alcohol.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” I said slyly, regaling in the compliment. “We are pretty awesome at, well, everything but drinking? That’s… a… uhm…” I lowered my drink again and just stared as another guard dragged a limp, wrinkly zebra across the floor and out the back. I may have gone on about seedy pubs and sinister ponies earlier but this place was starting to feel a little… suspicious. “Is that common around here?”

“So! I see you’ve already got some quality equipment already,” said the Major abruptly, eyeing my nickel coated revolver. “But do you have skill to back it up?”

“Is this about the job?” I asked. The major nodded after a pause. “Oh yeah! I’m tons good at shooting! Whattya need holes in?”

“Calm down, buddy. I might not need holes in anything. It’s just good to know you can defend yourself if the situation were to escalate,” said the Major.

“Could the situation escalate?” I asked slowly. “Could the situation escalate into saving Camp City from some slaver warlord?”

“I… what? Boy, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself,” the Major said, his annoyed tone dampening my enthusiasm “This isn’t some grand save the Princesses, slay the Zebra fools tale in the making. It’s just a simple job that could be done overnight. Anything making it more difficult will be your fault.”

“Would I get paid extra for that?”

Silence set in. The Major stared at me from under the brim of his peaked cap, the left side rising with his brow. Just before it got awkward he whistled and waved his hoof in the air. A second frothy mug was levitated across the bar and dropped in-front of the Major; he drained it within seconds slamming the flagon back down on the table sending chunks of froth flying across it.

“Woah! That was a wicked!” I said while applauding the Major and his beverage draining skills.

“Just celebrating. It’s not every day I come across Talons with their imagination as undying as their loyalty,” said the Major, leaning back in his chair. “I take it I can count you in on the job?”

“Heck yeah you can!” My chair tumbled backwards as I nearly leapt onto the table. “So what’s the job huh? Rescuing traders from some raiders? Hunting down some bandits? Cleaning out ghoul infested Stables? Whatever it is you name it! Once I’m on the job it’s as good as done!” I poured all my Charisma into a grin to convey my eagerness and assure him that satisfaction was guaranteed.

“Slow down there, boy,” said the Major, motioning to pick my chair back up. “I just said it’s nothing exciting; just recover something a couple of raiders stole from me.”

“Recover… with extreme prejudice?” I queried.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. You can do that if you don’t like talking,” the Major said with a small shrug. I punched the air and mentally screamed YES! “What’s important is what they stole from me. Not if they live past tomorrow.”

Finally! No longer would I be shooting cardboard targets… or pretending to shoot cardboard targets! I had a good feeling about this but a small sense of dread started to spread through me. The word raider flashed through my mind repeatedly and with it the warnings mum had given to me just under an hour ago. “Are these raiders who stole this thing from you north of here? I can’t go to Fillydelphia.”

“A Talon that won’t touch Fillydelphia?” said the Major slowly as he leaned back in his chair. “Now that’s very peculiar. Last I heard the Talons were flocking to the city like migrating birds of old. Yet here I am with two prospective professionals in my lowly tavern in one night.” I briefly glanced back to the bar but the golden griffon had left. A single golden feather sitting atop his stool.

“I have my reasons,” I answered with forced confidence. I dared not tread on mum’s claws and talons. “Very important and… secret reasons! It would be too dangerous for you to know.”

Silence set in… dead silence. Even the radio died. No banter nor the sounds of anyone talking but the Major and I could be heard. Actually; we were the only ones left in the entire bar except for the bouncers, guards and the bartender who all seemed to hovering around our table.

“Hey, where’d everyone go? Did the job start?” I asked worriedly. The others could already be ahead of me, beating me to stardom!

“Welcome aboard!” the Major announced abruptly. “You’ll start tomorrow morning. I’ll brief you with the rest.”

“YES!” I slapped my Contract down on the table. “You won’t regret hiring me! I guarantee it!”

“A Contract? I thought most Talons now-a-days did away with these. Always assumed it was a pre-war thing.” The Major grabbed it between his hooves and brought it up for a closer look. “Gillet. Well, Gillet, do you have any personal rules I should know of?”

“None other than satisfaction guaranteed!” It’s happening! It’s finally happening! My first step on a trip to stardom. “Can I get paid now? In advance? What am I getting paid? Caps? Guns? Hens? I’ll settle for two out of three!”

The Major remained silent, smirking instead. Slowly, he got up from the table and uttered “Your life.”

“My what?”

And then I realized why I was surrounded; it was a trap! The Major’s meaty cronies and henchmen encircled the table armed with an assortment of weapons and ill-intentions.

“Hah!” I scoffed lazily leaning back in my chair just as the Major had. “You might have me surrounded but I –as a griffon and a Talon Mercenary – have imagined myself easily escaping much, much tenser situations. You can still try. By all means; go straight ahead, but by the time this over, you’ll all be face down on the ground sniffing dirt… wood and I’ll be gone.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He then turned to his cronies. “Collar him and put him with the rest. I’ll sort them out in the morning.” The major ordered before bidding me farewell. Stepping out of approaching bar fight. His loss; his absence only further tipped the scales in my favour.

I guess now was a better time than ever so I took mug of frothy beer and downed about half of it. “Eugh! This stuff is foul! I don’t know how you pones survive on this.” There was no response from my crowd. “Well, doesn’t matter. First I’m gonna take you out.”

“How about you start with Hoof?” said a thick voice behind me.

Hoof, huh? Sounds like the biggest, meanest most bad-assed pony here. It’ll shatter their confidence if I take him down first. “Alright then. Who’s Hoof?”

“My hoof.”

I hit the ground with what felt like a horse-shoe shaped indent on the back of my head. “Damn, that’s a good one…” were my last words for the night.