"He... he brought the knife up, Corporal Summer leaped over me to shield me. I closed my eyes before he even did, and after I felt the pressure of his body land on top of me, I heard this... bloodcurdling scream, and the sound of tearing flesh. I look up, Corporal Summer is pale and trembling. He tenses up, and Arc Nobis rips the knife from his back and leaves without noticing me underneath him."
Beside the pegasus mare—a sailor named Cloudy Skies—sat the second lieutenant, chin lowered and hoof rubbing along his forehead. His eyes shadowed beneath his jet-black mane, and not once could they been seen over the span of the past two hours of the trial.
"I wait before moving so he doesn't realize I was there too, and... I go to tend to Corporal Summer's wounds, but I was too late. In the minute after Arc's knife drew from his back, he had suffered internal bleeding and failure of numerous organs, according to the autopsy. There would not have been enough time to find him a medic or treat the injury personally."
Cloudy closed her eyes, nose trembling as she sniffled sharply, wiping a rolling tear clean of her cheek and dabbing both eyes with a crumpled tissue she held for Celestia knows how long. The mood swept like a tsunami across the crowds, with many taking these moments of temporary silence to mourn the lost.
Seven was the initial count, before all of it came to an end. Two more—not including the one with those I came across—were discovered, apparently having been huddled together fearfully prior to being attacked. The next day is when five more passed on under intense medical care. Their wounds were simply too substantial that not even unicorn magic could save them.
Straightening her back as she lowered her hoof, the judge nodded down to the somber mare. "Thank you, Petty Officer. You may return to your seat."
Clearing her throat softly, the middle-aged mare atop her wooden podium lifted her gaze, scanning around her as she then spoke aloud.
"What we hear this afternoon from these brave souls having to endure such a harrowing situation, it simply serves as a reminder that justice shall not go ignored by many. As a mare so... inseparable... so devoted to the law, for years I have bore witness to many of the preposterous, ludicrous cases, right here," she remarked, gesturing her hoof by pressing it into the solid wood surface.
"Never in my two-and-a-half decade-long career, not once, have I witnessed such grief, such sorrow, such... anger expressed in my courtroom, nor have I ever been forced to settle with the certainty of prosecution without any means of defending his or herself. On most occasion do I refrain from sharing personal feelings toward the guilty, but this..."
The cold of her eyes found itself fixed on Arc, unmoved by her sudden glance in his direction while he sat at his respective table beside an officer of the military police.
"You, Arc Nobis, you are a true monster of a pony. Not the type to beat on their partners, kidnap or murder innocent colts and fillies, no. You are a new type of monster. You have mercilessly slaughtered fifteen mares and stallions, should I add, brothers and sisters of yours, and severely wounded countless others. Should you be ordered to be executed, consider yourself lucky, Second Lieutenant."
The weight of the judge's words to Arc struck everypony equally. A few whispers here and there sparked between a few ponies around the foyer. Everypony knew execution, in modern times, was frowned upon, especially by Princess Celestia. On the rarest of occasions did the penalty reemerge, if the crime was that diabolical.
"Now, may the next witness step forth?" she added. At this point, there were simply too many to keep track of, and most of them beforehand determined their turns to speak. Nearly the entire lower seating section filled with witnesses, and even a couple of victims lucky enough to have avoided serious injury.
I let off a deep sigh, keeping it quiet so as to not disturb anypony around me. Standing silently, I squeezed between a narrow aisle between a lower row and the one I sat on, muttering a few 'excuse me's until I reached the stairs.
***
Bringing cupped hooves of water to gently splash my face and inhaling sharply, I took a paper towel from the bathroom dispenser above the sink between mirrors, patting down my face to dry it, before crumpling the towel in my hooves.
Hours went by like years, it seemed. No recess had yet been called, even though the trial itself began nearly five hours ago. Even then, there were still quite a lot of ponies left unsung in the lower crowd.
I stood alone in the courthouse washroom, in desperate need of a breather. My back was beginning to ache from sitting almost statue-like in a horrible, squeezing position, anyway. It felt good to spread out at last and not have to constantly shrug. Too many ponies plus a room not constructed to accommodate all of them at once equals frustrating discomfort. Note for future reference, don't ever voluntarily attend widely-publicized court hearings again.
The door creaked, reverberating off of the granite-tiled walls, compelling my ear to swivel and twitch as a rather familiar pair of hooves sauntered in.
"You doing okay, Corporal?"
The stare I locked myself into with the mirror broke, now confronting a denim pegasus standing a few paces down the counter, the latchless door gently swinging into place behind him. Like myself, he displayed his dress uniform, with the exception of three white arrow-shaped bars and crossing rifles beneath them representing the insignia of a Marine sergeant—as compared to mine, with one bar.
I shifted to face the sergeant, spine stiffening a little. "As well as I can on three hours of sleep and two whole cups of coffee, sir."
Hardstaff took a few steps closer, coming virtually face to face, but keeping just beyond my personal space's boundary. His expression remained calm and posture collected. "So as you are not doing anything stupid on my watch, that is fine with me."
I nodded, ripping a second towel to dry my hooves. "Is there anything you need, Sergeant?"
His head shook gently, eyes darting to the mirror off to his right. "Saw you get up and leave so quickly, wanted to make sure everything was all right."
"I appreciate the concern, sir. I am fine for the time being. Just been a long week."
"The feelings are mutual, Shooter. Speaking of which, Corporal, how does that title sound?"
I shrugged my shoulders, the bones and muscles in them briefly aching from having been locked like that for the last few hours as I dropped the ball of brown paper through a curved hole in the counter, where a trashcan sat beneath. I didn't quite understand his mistake after the second time it came around.
"One can dream of it, sir, especially somepony like me."
"It's yours."
My gaze snapped to meet his, ears perking. "What?"
"The missing ponies you found and saved spilled the beans. Your acts of courage on that evening, facing the second lieutenant and what ever it was that came over him have prompted myself, Sergeant Major Aphrodite, and Lieutenant Snow Storm, most of all, to vote on your promotion."
"But, on top of that..." he dug into a pocket and produced a nameless yellow envelope, holding it out. "The news when it reached the Commandant of the Marines prompted him to mail out a bonus check with your name on it."
I blinked. Most if told this would be hopping around in circles internally and screaming for joy. Me? Not so much. While I knew very well that I could pressingly use the money, there was no true way of accepting it. Sighing out, "I don't deserve it," I flat out said.
Hardstaff's eyes grew slightly with a hint of bewilderment, lowering his hoof. "What makes you say that?"
"I don't believe I am worthy of reward over all of this, Sergeant. I simply acted on my own that night, and truth be told, I almost didn't try and talk him down. I almost ran away screaming for my life."
"The important part, is that you didn't. That is what is so significant about your story. I am not too sure how educated you are of it from boot camp, Shooter, but promotions are earned strictly by the ponies who deserve them. They are earned through dedication and service to their Marine Corps, to their Navy, Army—whichever. What you did surpasses that devotion, and because of you, a few more ponies are alive to see tomorrow. You have not served a year, and your record already stands as one of the most impressive I have ever seen in my career, especially for present rank."
I gave him an earnest glance. "The speech is inspiring, sir, it really is. However, that does not change my stance on—"
"Just accept it," he insisted sternly, eyes narrowing. "Your promotion was earned, period. Nothing you say can or will revise that."
I stopped, tensing. After a brief moment of silence, contemplating my response, I settled with letting it go. "Yes, sir."
The nod came back. He stepped forth, slapping the envelope against my chest. As his last words, the sergeant added, "Your new patches shall be fitted later on today. Starting tomorrow, your current uniform is out of regulation. I expect a corporal tomorrow, Shooter."
Without a further word, he turned tail and headed back out, leaving me standing in place for some time with my gaze lowering to the floor. I breathed in deeply, letting it off to fully relax myself, shifting over to the mirror beside me, then down to the taped sleeve grasped in my hoof.
***
The looks of many turned weary by the time I returned, at least ten minutes after initially standing up. I squeezed back through and took my seat where it had been left, right as another witness finished their story.
Shuffling between some papers in an untidy yet isolated pile in front of her, the judge cleared her throat, reading over a few paragraphs rather quickly.
"It is to my understanding that one witness is present within the room, a rather important one, but is not intent on speaking this afternoon. I shall respect that decision for the sake of time, and move along with our conclusion," she finished off coldly, a glance tossed down.
"For multiple accounts of murder, ponyslaughter, as well as assault with a knife, and battery—fifty-four total—"
While she addressed the room, the doors a thousand feet in front of her leading inside burst open. A younger-looking stallion, carrying what appeared to be multiple closed folders held tight against his chest, each visibly stacked with paperwork inside.
"Hold the phone, your honor! This is something you must see at once!" he declared, galloping down the aisle to the bench.
The judge rolled her eyes. "Late as usual, are we, Inkwell?"
"My sincerest apologies," panted the rust-brass unicorn, coming to a skidding halt feet before the judge. "I believe this may serve as useful at this very moment."
A silver aura engulfed both files, lifting them to the bar and dropping with a gentle smack, where the mare then began by opening the top folder first, placing a pair of small reading glasses on the tip of her nose. Her eyes grew upon seeing just how much there was to read. Not all of it could be glanced over, of course, though the first few papers would suffice, it seemed.
Minutes of dead quiet followed while she studied the paperwork, apart from a few meager whispers between those in the stands. By each passing second, a strong look of shock grew on her face, raising question among ponies. After this time, she glanced back down at the unicorn and firmly nodded.
"Thank you, Inkwell, for delivering these reports and bringing this to my attention."
"Happy to oblige, your honor," the stallion dipped his head and stepped back, taking an empty seat in the lower sections near the back.
Lifting one piece of paper from the folder to briefly go over it one last time, she once more cleared her throat.
"In this sudden revelation, the court has a change of ruling! Second Lieutenant Arc Nobis, as a result of his rather impressive combat record prior to this... unfortunate incident, has been ruled out of the highest possible offense and punishment."
Many around the room gasped, and chatter began. The judge raised her gavel, beginning to bang it onto a wooden block to regain order and continue. However, the echoing clamor failed to cease the crowds.
"SILENCE!"
The courtroom went dead quiet. A pin dropping could have been compared to that of a gunshot in this new atmosphere. Terrified, widened eyes of each individual present now honed on to Princess Luna as she lowered herself, clearing her throat and taking a sip of a glass of water before her.
"Th-thank you, your highness," the judge shakily nodded, holding a hoof beside her small reading glasses to adjust them while she resumed.
"Arc Nobis, due to your duty, sacrifice, as well as medical records that very clearly state diagnoses of post-traumatic stress and dissociative identity disorder, among other less-significant disorders, the court has decided that your service to our nation's armed forces shall be suspended, if not ended entirely, and you are to spend upwards of five years maximum as sentence under flexible house arrest, as well as seek immediate psychiatric care with bi-daily appointments at Manehattan Mental Health's primary facility."
Setting the paperwork down on the desk in front of her and removing her eyeglasses, the judge looked down upon a rather shocked-looking Arc Nobis.
"If there is anything else that you feel obligated to speak, please do so while you have this time."
A second silence filled the room. Some leaned closer to try and hear the second lieutenant's response when it would come.
"I do not, your honor. I accept this punishment."
"Very well. You are to commence your sentence beginning tomorrow," the judge slipped back, banging her gavel twice. "Court is adjourned."
***
Nothing was quite the same in the days that followed. While, on the upbeat side of things, I did finally make corporal. As difficult as it was to comprehend, those at the office and within my circle of friends immediately began addressing my new title. Coworkers, it made sense. Friends? Not so much. Now it seemed as if they had forgotten my actual name entirely.
I sat alone in the computer room of the geology office, room bright as day with not one light left off, as I have left the place from now on. The sergeant major continued her recovery and, over the course of a couple of days since Arc's hearing, released from the hospital and went home on leave to spend time with family. After her scuffle in the emergency room for ten days, I'd say her time off is well-earned and long overdue, according to Argony and Magnus.
On the contrary, mounting consternation that existed among us long before the incident held high as further questions rose with little to no answers coming back regarding continuous regional seismic anomalies. Frustration soon took over as neither of our theories fully pieced together.
The eventual conclusion the three of us settled on was that prehistoric faults surrounding Manehattan were under immense stress and have been gradually releasing pressure. This is the case in the west, where far more vigorous and infamous fractures in the planet's crust spat out tremor after tremor—though, on some days, we discovered there to be far more here than many geologically-active zones.
The ticking of a clock in the room rung loud in my ears, topping my conscience while I sat statue-still in my chair, eased back, twirling a pencil slowly in my hoof for the last forty-five minutes. Boredom overcame all feeling as the afternoon seemingly refused to cease. It felt as if my shift might continue on for eternity which, in reality, I had only been clocked in for a few hours with two more to go. The absence of Magnus and Argony on some days to where I solely occupied the office never fully clicked, nor have I actually fallen through with speaking to one of them rather than letting it sit on my mind for hours on end.
Though, I suppose this is my eventual karma for signing those papers a year ago next month. Crazy how quickly time flies by, right? I mean, not even a year in and already wearing two bars and a pair of crossed rifles. That posed question as to what I might be this time twelve months ahead. After all, next in line was sergeant. I managed to make myself grin at the thought of outranking Hardstaff. To see the look on his face would be priceless.
My maw parted widely to let a quiet yawn slip out, and blinking slowly, I raised a hoof to wipe a tear that had formed after yawning. With boredom came creeping drowsiness, my worst nemesis at work. Coffee worked wonders on most days, whilst others it had no effect. It all depended on how much sleep I had received the night prior.
Some times I would even consider trying espresso, although that would require locating a shop off-base that served it. While no pony was fully restricted from drinking it, Joint Base Manehattan enforced strict policy against the sale or brewery of espresso within the premises. To my knowledge, that included at home—or in this case, in dorms.
A second, smaller yawn soon escaped, followed by the smacking of my lips as I strained to keep alert. Another one of those days, I thought. This sucks, commented the voice up above. He wasn't wrong in the least.
Looking around cautiously, remembering there to be no cameras anywhere in the office, I relaxed into the back of my chair and kicked my hinds up on the edge of the desk in front of me. A little nap couldn't hurt. Yawning for a third time, I reached up, sliding my cover down to shadow my eyes as they closed, blurring mere moments with sleepiness before dark met dark.
***
"Second Lieutenant Arc Nobis?"
Rubbing his forehead, the stressed-out stallion lifted his gaze to the door of the padded cell he had been placed in at the beginning of his sentence. "What is it?"
The door swung open, and in the frame stood a prison guard, his stoic expression meeting the confusion on Arc's. "You have a visitor, and your bail has been paid."
Arc's ears perked, eyes widening slightly. "By whom?"
The guard did not respond, instead stepping out of the doorway and making room for a maroon unicorn, donning the finest of black suits and a white undershirt, complete with a tie as straight as a beam of steel halfway tucked beneath the jacket. A pair of squared reading glasses sat on the stallion's muzzle, which he then tucked away into one of his pockets with a burst of magic.
The stallion smiled as he fixated in on the grey earth pony, back pressed against the right-side wall. His bright purple eyes went wide with further shock, only to soon fall into a cold stare directed right back at the unicorn.
"Good morning, Second Lieutenant. I am Armet Mace, CEO of Generation Technologies Incorporated. May I?"
Arc's brow furrowed, taking a good two seconds preceding a silent nod of a reply. Glancing over his shoulder and nodding once to the guard, Armet ventured into the room, seating himself in front of Arc while the door closed.
"It is to my knowledge that this incident was simply a... misunderstanding, yes?" Armet began.
The raised eyebrow above Arc's eye held there, perhaps even moving a bit further up. "I would use far different words to describe it."
Armet nodded, glancing down at his tablet, a faint grin crossing his muzzle, one that Arc spotted immediately. He tapped on the screen a couple of times, and seconds after, the lights in the room momentarily surged.
"What is it you want?"
Lifting from the device, Armet's sinister-like grin faded into a genuine smile. To Arc, it was anything but genuine.
"For somepony who could very well be unemployed after their sentence, I have an offer. But first, I have a few questions to ask."
Arc stared in silence. He almost knew what was coming next. Armet, looking back down to his tablet, expanded a window to cover the whole screen, turning it to face Arc. Shifting down to the screen, for the first time in years, Arc's blood ultimately ran cold.
"Is this you?"
***
I woke with a jolt, eyes shooting wide open and a sharp breath sucking in. Exhaling deeply, panting softly so as to catch my breath, I scanned around the room. Instead of humming monitors and maps plastered across the left wall, the room seemed to have... shrunk?
The chair I now sat in differed greatly from before dozing off. Rather than a far more comfortable all-black rolling office chair, the one in its place was wooden. The seat itself had no cushion, which ached my lower spine after having sat here for seemingly a long period of time.
Looking up from the armrests and focusing once more on my surroundings, I attempted to get up and find out where I was. Except I couldn't. A tug on my forehooves prevented movement. Glancing back down, I noted many layers of duct tape wrapped tightly around my hooves atop the cuff of my sleeves. The tape looped around either armrest that bound my hooves to them.
I gave a few light tugs and was met with similar results. The bindings made no movement in my struggle, which only further built confusion with a tinge of fear in my mind.
The click of a door's latch unlocking and a knob twisting prompted me to snap straight forward, where the noise sourced from. The door itself matched so perfectly with the walls that, at first, I could not make out the crack outline of it until after it had pushed inward.
A pair of griffons, one a foot taller than the other, entered the room. The larger one wore oval-framed glasses and a stone-colored army jacket neatly buttoned up the center, while the shorter—looking to be a female upon closer inspection—had on robe-like clothing. She closed the door behind them both and took a watch position beside it while the taller figure moved closer.
"Are you, ah... Star Shooter? Private first class?" he spoke, voice deep and almost rumble-like.
My gaze narrowed on to this griffon, scrutinizing him. The only response he received was a half nod, half shake of my head. Only part of that was correct.
"Ah, of course, my mistake," he said, peeking down at a short pile of papers in his talons. "You are a corporal now. Very impressive."
Before I knew anything else, his one claw formed into a fist and socked me right in the jaw, tossing my head to the side. I grunted painfully, turning forward slowly and clenching my teeth.
"You have made the King quite, er... unhappy. However, he shall be pleased to learn of your capture," chuckled the griffon, quite sinisterly, must I add. A second equally-powerful punch hit my chest, knocking the wind clear out of my lungs.
"The K-King?" I sputtered out, chest heaving slightly to regain my breath.
"Playing dumb, are we? All right, if that is how you want to play." He backed off, nodding to the other griffon accompanying him.
The rifle she held raised to aim just below me. With a press of the trigger, a single, deafening burst struck my leg with a sizzling, agonizing pain that brought a loud, pained yip out as I threw my head back, teeth grit and grinding as I writhed. "Gah, fuck!" I cried.
He snatched a wet cloth from a nearby table, wiping down his claw that now soaked red with my blood. Slapping it back down, he moved back closer as I struggled some more, placing both talons on top of my hooves roughly, squeezing with the claws of his thumbs beginning to dig slightly into the skin.
"Tell me, Corporal, what is your home base's layout? How many ships can it handle at once?" he questioned menacingly, leaning his head down to just above my eye level.
"I don't... k-know... what you're talking ab-out!" I wheezed, leaned as far back as the chair would allow while making direct eye contact. In all actuality, I did, and he knew that, too.
"Then perhaps you are familiar with daily watch rotations?" he asked with a low growl.
Silence fell as my body trembled, pain stinging in three locations up and down, from where my hoof bled slowly onto the snow-white flooring, to my jaw which, much to my shock, hadn't been dislocated in the initial blow.
The griffon released his grip on my hooves and reared back on his paws, standing straight up for almost a full minute while his unfaltering glare kept fixed on me. He eased back down on to all fours and began to turn away. But as he did, a third, powerful cuff caught just below the left temple, throwing my head almost completely sideways. It is a miracle how I have not fallen unconscious yet.
"Er wird nicht sprechen, die loyale kleine scheisse. Er nützt uns nicht mehr," he said to the female on his way out. One final glance in my direction, before he disappeared.
The barrel of her rifle raised once more. My eyes went wide as the realization hit. One shot was all it took before everything turned black.
***
I threw my cover off upon waking, only a mere moment prior to the back of my chair smacking against the floor in a jolt that sent a rather sudden second surge of adrenaline throughout my body, in a rather unhealthy manner, to boot.
Pressing myself up on my elbows, I snapped my gaze in all directions, panting heavily. An immediate sense of relief swept over me as I recognized the room once more and sussing there to be no pony to have witnessed my fall. Collapsing flat against the chair as it lay backwards on the floor, I gawked both in reassurance and sleepily straight up at one of the rectangular lights on the ceiling.
As I had said before, anything in this blasted Marine Corps resulted in karma, and she is the definition of a bitch.
***
After a bite to eat at the chow hall, and somehow without bumping into anypony I knew there, I headed home. The sun continued to hold high in the sky, seeing as it was still only early evening with at least another three hours preceding dusk.
Activity around base remained the same, I noted. For once, however, the training areas seemed vacant. Perhaps the next batch of recruits had not arrived yet. Schedules varied for some—like myself, where evidently I was a late arrival and could simply come on my own. Most recruits were actually shuttled in from the train station and airport, collected by enlisted officers, since most don't originate from Manehattan. The same went for the other base on the west coast.
Up the stairs, down the hall, and stopping at the door, I slid my key into the slot and twisted, waiting for the click, before turning the knob and pushed in. The refreshing cold of the air conditioner struck like a wall, prompting me to take in a deep breath after closing the door. I must have lucked out last year with the weather, seeing how much warmer this summer was already becoming. At least Manehattan had a breeze from the ocean that somewhat diminished heat, albeit trading for humidity that, if high enough, can make a pony feel like they are physically melting.
The noise of running water in the bathroom and pluming steam through a thin gap between the door and its frame told me that Nightpath was home at least. Though, him being up and at it this early came across as strange. Rather I shrugged it off and began undressing on my way into the bedroom. A long bathing session would certainly do once he finished, assuming any hot water would be left. Regardless of bodily or outside temperature, a cold shower is never pleasant.
I let off a sigh, both of some exhaustion and joy to be off work, laying my jacket on my bed and working to undo the black belt looped around my pants and kick those off with it, leaving only an undershirt colored alike or a shade lighter than my own fur. Don't be mistaken, BDUs are comfortable, but to undress after spending hours in them was still the best thing.
One thing did catch my eye from the corner. Glancing over, I noticed the envelope Hardstaff had given me sitting there, untampered with even almost a week later. For a good few seconds I kept my gaze on it, a frown crossing while pondering. With a groan that I am not sure remotely escaped my gut, I took the sleeve and began carefully tearing the tape off of the flap and opening it.
At first, it appeared as if nothing waited inside. However, upon flipping the envelope upside down and shaking revealed a small envelopes slipping out and fluttering to my bed, where it landed face down. I took it in one hoof and brought it up to open it as well, finding there to be a blue piece of paper within. My heart stopped as soon as I plucked it out and read what was written on it.
It was a check written for five-thousand bits, sent by the Marines Commandant himself in Canterlot. Attached to it was a small typewritten note, reading:
To LCpl Star Shooter, Lunar Marine Corps,
For going above and beyond the call of duty to prevent what very well could have been a far more major tragedy. Your fellow brothers and sisters, and your country, is greatly indebted.
I glanced back to the check, blinking a couple of times for good measure to make sure I wasn't dreaming this, knowing how vivid they could be sometimes—or most of the time.
But then, I felt the envelope, and found there to be a second pressed behind it. Placing the first on the small desk between beds, I focused on the second, reading on the back:
The signing bonus you deserved but never received.
"Signing bonus?" I murmured to myself, tearing into it carefully.
Inside was yet another check for an amount that quite nearly caused me to faint.
Ten-thousand and five-hundred bits was what it read.
"Finally opening that thing up, I see?" came a voice from behind that startled me.
Jumping, I snapped back to see Nightpath standing beyond the bathroom door, head sideways while he dried his mane with a towel. Calming myself, I nodded.
"What did you get?" he asked as he strode closer. Without words, I showed him, and his eyes shot wide open as well. "Holy shit, Star!"
"Here, read the note," I said, swiping it off of the desk for Night to read.
"Whooooa. You got recognized by the commandant! How cool is that?"
"Very," I responded with a meek smile.
"What are you going to use that on? Pay off your apartment?"
"I haven't thought about it yet. I could do that, but I'd have to speak to the property owner. In Canterlot, what are the chances I could afford it?"
"Hmm, true," Night tapped his chin. "Even then, you could maybe afford a place closer!"
"Too much of a hassle to move, especially long distance. But, this... this will definitely help," I said, looking back down at the two notes in my hoof.
"You could spend it in Coltlumbus!"
"...What?" I turned to him suddenly, blinking.
"Oh! You didn't know about Confest?"
"I... know what it is, I used to live there. What about it?"
"Ash, Anchorage, and I are taking next week off to go to it! We, uh, we thought you could come, too," Night smiled sheepishly. My ears lost their perk and I looked away. His smile faltered into a look of concern. "Don't you... don't you want to go home for a bit?"
It was not for at least a minute when I finally responded, looking him dead in the eye.
"Listen, Night, I enjoy going on adventures with you guys. In fact, I love them. But, this time, I... I must put my hoof down and say I won't be going."
"But... why? It's your hometown. Don't you miss it?"
He had a point. "Well, I—... Yes, Night, I do, but I don't miss what is there."
Night cocked his head just, nodding. "I see. But, we would not be going there for that. We would be around downtown, away from... them."
"I don't know, Night," was all I replied with.
He nodded once more understandingly. "I respect that. But, y'know, if you change your mind, let us know. You have a few days to think on it. Besides... you don't know, they might not live there anymore."
"They do, Night," I said firmly, narrowing my eyes. "They do."
His head raised a bit as he recoiled. It then bobbed in another nod. "Offer still stands, Star. You know we won't think any less of you if you decide against it."
I returned the nod, beginning to faintly smile. "Thank you for understanding."
"Of course, buddy. How's about we celebrate your achievements this week?"
"What do you mean?" I blinked.
"Well," Night brushed his hoof across the floor, eyes dashing away briefly. "I thought we could get together and, you know, have a little party somewhere, or see if Anchorage still wants to have that game night."
The smile on my muzzle grew. "That would be nice, but, I must insist, there is no need to celebrate."
"Ah, bull," he gently slugged me in the shoulder, grinning. "You know, I thought about it, too. We haven't had a proper game night since we lost Solar."
He wasn't wrong about that. Rather it had me thinking about it, and I nodded.
"We shouldn't let that stop us from having fun," he said.
I knew too well how right he was, and I could only agree with him. It was the best thing to do.