Chapter Eleven
One cannot change their past. Only live for the future. One has lost their way when the past and the future become one and the same.
“And…that’s when you found me,” Falcon concluded, bathed in the yellow glow of the lamp. He sat on his haunches, his hood draped on his shoulders. A radio Klaxon had “salvaged” from the super store lay on the table next to the lamp.
Steiner broke the silence that followed the red colt’s story with: “… Enlightening,” while having a hoof gently tapping against his helmet which lay in front of him. “In such a tight society constrained in terms of resources for its population, one would think such cases of… foalish behavior would be rectified,” the unicorn stated in response to Falcon’s tale of bullying and abuse. “…and your parents… they were part of the Enclave. For some reason I don’t think their deaths were --“
“Whoa, sweet Celestia bucking space rocks, Steiner!” Klaxon interrupted when Falcon’s face contorted with sadness. Klaxon was sitting to the right of the dark blue unicorn and looked like he was fighting the urge to hit him.
“Is your timing always this good?” Falcon Wing thought, thankful for the bronze stallion’s intervention. He had heard the rumors himself, how the scouting mission was rigged somehow. That the team his parents were a part of was purposely sent to investigate a death trap. He didn’t believe it; didn’t WANT to believe it. How could anypony send others to their deaths? What means could possibly be worth betraying the loyalties and trust of ponies like that?
The muffled gunshots outside brought his wandering mind back to the matter at hand… then he promptly began pondering if he was in a position to judge an entire government body and its morals. For one, he was young. He was no foal but he was certainly not a stallion, never had to make adult decisions and deal with adult problems. Secondly, he felt no remorse stealing from ponies -- as monstrous as they may be -- and was completely fine with his companions murdering them without a second thought.
“-- and how you… damn it Falcon!” Klaxon’s voice was indeed loud and attention-getting like an alarm.
“R-right! Sorry!” Falcon stammered. “What was that?” he queried, attempting to follow the conversation from where he zoned out.
“I was just wondering when you intended to tell us that you lived under the Celestia-damned Enclave! In the last week they could have come after you and Steiner and I know what happens to ponies that get caught by the Enclave. You might be a blank flank but boy I tell you; you won’t have to worry about finding a cutie mark. I don’t even want to think about what they’d do to us but I’m sure Steiner’s got that covered,” Klaxon said.
“Hey! I recall you two not being too inclined to talk about your life stories, why should I have been!? Hell, I still don’t know what the deal with you two is!” Falcon fired back, holding his ground. He glared, passing his gaze in between both stallions, the earth pony who insisted on his personal loss and the unicorn who lost his horn and insisted on not growing it back. He tried to not think about the fact they could both hurt him. A lot. He couldn’t be shaken with his righteous anger, not after his outburst.
The silence between them drew on for a long time, the red colt finding it difficult to maintain a glare when he was getting amused looks from those he was trying to unsettle with his anger. Then again, he should have known better than to try to intimidate them. They already knew his record of meekness and even in his barding he still looked comical to the two older ponies. “Oh, damn it all!” Falcon muttered, drooping, his mane tumbling over his face. It was darker than when he left the sky. The orange streaks in his yellow mane and tail had darkened with dirt and other filth.
“Buck up,” Steiner snorted, the barest hint of a chortle underlying in his voice. “You want to know the deal with Klaxon and I? Fine. Like you, Klaxon lost his parents,” the dark blue unicorn began. Klaxon’s mouth was agape, at a loss for words but had no inhibitions on acting on his earlier impulses. With his hoof only centimeters away from Steiner’s hide, Klaxon was suspended by a magical bubble and moved several feet away from the hornless unicorn. The bronze stallion protested and cursed but Steiner continued unabated.
“He was on sentry duty as always back when we used to live in the ruins of Hope. His old stallion was walking down the path back into the camp with slavers closing in on him. It wasn’t a party that threatened the town but it was more than able to pick off stragglers. Klaxon saw them well before his father did, tried to warn him but it was too late. By time Klaxon was able to line his sights up they had mobbed his dad and he couldn’t get a clear shot. Didn’t stop him from trying though…he ended up shooting one of the slavers in front of his father…bullet went through them and into his chest.”
“Steiner you son of a bitch!” Klaxon spat angrily, flailing in the telekinetic field. He sounded choked up. He was going to be in tears. Klaxon… was going to cry. Falcon was dumbfounded.
“Since then, Klaxon hasn’t pulled a gun on a pony as long as he could help it. No, he deals his hurting up close and personal, no pulling his hooves. You’ve seen what he could do.”
“Steiner… why the hell -- I didn’t want this!” Falcon Wing stammered, eyes wide has he saw Klaxon hang his head as he had not too long ago, orange mane wafting with the unicorn’s magic, trembling as he let the tears come out.
“He lost his mother to alcohol. It was a slow way to go, first the drifting apart, then the embarrassment and then the sickness after practically drowning herself in the crap she’d find and chug,” Steiner went on saying. “Really, can you blame Klaxon for how he acts? He’s gotta cover those wounds somehow.”