//------------------------------//
// Chapter 15: Ghosts and Treasures (Part 1) 
// Story: Fallout Equestria - The Code of Honor 
// by FireStorm2247 
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Chapter 15: Ghosts and Treasures



“One final song for home. One final song for us all.”




“Marefax??” Shore exclaimed, making me wince at the volume of voice that his shock brought to him. “You can’t be serious!”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Gunny remarked, rolling his eyes before looking back down at me. 

“I’m absolutely serious, Shore.” I asserted, ignoring Gunny’s blatant disapproval. “Tomorrow morning, just after sunrise, Buckley will be sending a convoy out to Marefax, and they’ll be holding a final meeting to discuss the preparations and objectives in the ATC tower later this afternoon. We’ve all been given Mother Shimmer’s permission to join in that meeting, so I want to go and listen in, and then I want to help them as an extra escort.” Both Gunny and Shore shook their heads together, Grace and Blossom likewise not attempting to hide their own hesitation towards agreeing with my argument. “Look, Shimmer said that this trip was being made for the sake of Buckley’s musical culture.” I added to strengthen my argument. “I don’t know what exactly they intend to do inside Marefax, but after seeing that concert hall and how these ponies live beside music… I want to help them strengthen that.”

“Nova, just because these ponies have something unique behind their walls doesn’t mean that you should be putting yourself at risk by going to Marefax of all places.” Gunny protested. “And keep in mind that we’re not talking about some kind of rinky-dink little town out in the middle of nowhere. This is a city, a massive population center of wartime Equestria that stretches for miles in every direction.”

“And?” I challenged.

“And it’s too damn big, which means that it’s going to carry more dangers and hazards.” Shore argued in response. 

“Nova.” Raemor calmly spoke up beside me, and I looked to see the old buck staring sagely back at me. “Between Hoofington, Trottingham, and Manehattan, I am well-acquainted with the dangers that the old city ruins of Equestria hold, and I assure you that they are many. Each has its own hazards, anything from mutated wildlife to taint and radiation pockets, and even pink cloud and active military defenses. On the Last Day, Marefax was undoubtedly large enough to gain the attention of the zebras and one of their balefire missiles. There will certainly be radiation areas, and if the zebras used any other weapons on the city, there will be other necromantic threats - pink cloud and the like. That, and after one hundred and seventy-five years, raiders and creatures will have made homes in the ruins that are free of natural dangers.” He paused in his explanation long enough to look over my friends. “The others are right to object, and I too have to voice my own concern.”

“But this is different, Raemor.” I protested with a stomp of my hoof. “How often in all of your days have you seen a concert hall? How often did you come across an entire ensemble with each member carrying his or her own preserved instrument and playing music that was composed in the early days of the wasteland, or even during the pre-war era?”

Raemor shifted as he looked back at me, furrowing his brow as I fought on. “Well… never, but-”

“This is something unique that these ponies have here.” I interrupted, raising a hoof to indicate the concert hall now behind us. “Don’t you want to help that?”

“What about going back to our own home?” Gunny demanded. “Two hours ago, Buckley was staring at us behind the barrel of a howitzer, and now you’re trying to become best friends? I may have offered to help them before, but I’m not lowering my guard around them.”

“I think that initial tension is well behind us now, Gunny.” I countered, swinging my eyes back to him to see him suddenly stepping right up to my face.

“Nova, they almost killed us.” he whispered sternly. “We were all nearly blasted to pieces when they opened up on us with those guns.” 

In all honesty, I had no wish to argue against my friends’ concerns, because they had every right to feel as such. But at the same time, I had to ask myself - was it wrong to open up so quickly to this community, to trust them? The way I saw it, Buckley was a distant relative to Challenger, in a sense. Both were organized and powerful settlements, easily equivalent to Old World towns like Appleoosa or Ponyville. Challenger, on one hoof, was the proverbial guardian of the southeastern settlements through trade and protection, and was open to trader and traveler alike. The only major factor standing between that scenario and Buckley was trust. This community had lived in isolation for years, even long before I was born in 181, and it was this isolation that forced Buckley’s ponies to steel themselves against outsiders; their instinct, just like my friends’ reservations, was something that I could understand. But now, Buckley was taking its first step to breaking its remoteness, and that was something that I felt could greatly benefit not only themselves, but the entire southeast region, too. 

But were we the ones to help them? 

My friends were right in that we had our own needs and tasks, and I knew that we had promised only a maximum of three days away from home to Captain Saber. Hopeville still needed us much more than any other settlement did, let alone Buckley, and the safety of our own home was still among my top priorities, side-by-side with the well-being of my baby brother. In his regard, getting him home again, and keeping him there from now on, would be the wisest course of action to ensuring his safety… but why was it so hard for me to simply let Buckley go and move on, to take Blake home, and for the both of us to just stay put?

“Music…” I whispered back to my friend, raising my voice to speak to the group as I added, “Back in the Stable, I was always playing music recordings in the Hall of Records, listening to the fruits of the imagination and talent of pre-war Equestria’s greatest musicians. I always felt like there was nothing better than hearing a melody by Octavia, or singing along to a song by Sapphire Shores. I grew so attached to music that I was starting to take my first steps to trying to make my own, but that was as far as I got before the invasion, before we lost nearly everything.” I stepped back and around to my brother then, pulling him close as he hugged me around my neck. “Once we got outside, seeing nothing but a vast open nothingness, I never thought I’d find anything like the music recordings in the Stable ever again, period… and now here we are, standing in the presence of a settlement that’s created its own culture around music and guards it with their lives.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking my head at my own words. “It sounds silly, I know, but after seeing some of what Buckley has… I really want to get in touch with music again, even if it’s just to listen to some of Buckley’s ensembles or… something…” 

Looking around at the group of companions, I saw that my argument had provoked some extra thought among each of them, even Gunny. While I wasn’t aiming to dissuade them from their own arguments, I had spoken my true desires. Buckley had much to offer and share if its citizens could only find it inside themselves to open their gates to Challenger and the other settlements. And after hearing all that she said of her own concerns for her people’s well-being, I felt that Mother Shimmer knew it as well as I did, if not more so. “To be honest, it was one of the last things I expected to see out here too.” Gunny replied, craning his gaze around to the hangers behind us. “Any of this, really… it’s just that I’m anxious to get back to Hopeville. I still fully trust the Captain, of course, but I just want to see it again, just to know that it’s safe.” I nodded understandingly

“I agree with the both of you.” Grace chimed in, Shore giving a nod beside her. “Buckley is truly an irreplaceable settlement in this world… and frankly, I’m also torn between helping this community one more time and going home. This is a kind of place where I feel like I want to contribute a little more effort into helping it grow, and let’s face it, these ponies are getting ready to take a very big step, considering their history.”

“And while my caution remains, I do have my own interest in visiting Marefax.” Raemor briefly added. “But again, I will follow whatever decision is agreed upon.”

“Hm…” Gunny hummed in thought. “Maybe we can split up then, some of us stay, and some of us head home to tell Captain Saber what we found here.” 

“Split up?” Grace asked concernedly. “Are you sure?” 

“Well, a couple of opinions are already clear.” Gunny responded with a shrug. “Nova wants to stay for a little longer, and for a good reason too. Me and my anxiety, on the other hoof, want to head back to Hopeville by no later than tomorrow morning. I figure that I can at least go home near to our schedule and give a report to the captain, keep him up to date on things. The rest of you can decide between those two options what you want to do.”

“I suppose…” my medical friend hesitantly agreed. “but as long as none of us go off alone. If you go back, at least one more of us should go with you.” 

“Sounds fair.” I agreed with a small smile. “But, uh… perhaps we can discuss this further while we eat?” 

“Indeed.” Shore remarked with a chuckle. “I am quite hungry, and that invitation to Buckley’s mess hall hanger is quite appealing at the moment.”

“Right. Let’s head in then, and we’ll pick up the topic later.” Gunny said with a nod, turning for the hangers and taking the lead. 

We had reunited with Shore on the farthest runway from the hangers, the computer-savvy buck having been released from his duties after replacing the final broken component in Buckley’s defense mainframe. As was the outcome of Grace’s own tasks on the base, Shore had made his own positive impression on Tech Sergeant Lela, who had briefly emerged with him to extend her own thanks before returning to work. With Shore being the last to finish his assignment, we had all collectively left a good mark with the community, and were now officially welcomed as guests by Mother Shimmer, Commander Tracer, and Archer. This had led to the present, where the offer had been made to join in the planning meet being held this afternoon before the Buckley leadership left us to attend their own errands. 

No that we were free to roam the base and all of its facilities, we had all jointly expressed the need for sustenance, even if only in small portions, before doing anything else. But as we crossed the median between the base’s twin runways, the sudden blaring of a klaxon alarm jolted our party to alertness. “Hey, what’s going on??” I demanded, spotting as red lights on the hanger walls began to flash and dim in slow repetition with the alarm. 

“Nothing to worry about.” Shore assured me with an easy smile. “Tech Sergeant Lela must’ve rebooted the defense mainframe. She said that the alarms are what sounds the activation of the base’s defense network.”

“That must mean that the generators survived in one piece, too.” Gunny remarked.

“That’s right.” Shore agreed with a nod, then raising a hoof to point at the hangers. “Look there. Some of the turrets are coming up on the hanger rooftops now.” 

I followed Shore’s direction, scaling the height of the front of the mess hall hanger before sighting one of the machines in question - Buckley’s defensive weaponry. The wagon-sized turret rose up from a hidden compartment below the ceiling, just near the forward edge of the rooftop. The weapon itself was nothing short of impressive - a huge minigun in a heavy frame mounted within a plated iron housing that protected the vital components and ammunition box, and fastened to each side of the primary weapon was a single rocket pod, each with four projectiles. Two more of these very same weapons were rising over the other two hangers as well, and as the alarms continued to sound, I looked back behind me, barely able to make out a fourth turret atop Buckley’s concert hall; as I looked around, I caught sight of two others, one over Buckley’s club building and the other over the church.  

“Six turrets make up the entire grid, or so Lela described.” Shore explained. “They are quite potent too. Each turret uses a twenty-five millimeter minigun and two anti-air missile pods, built to shoot down anything from enemy aircraft, cruise missiles, and even balefire rockets themselves. It’s amazing that the targeting talismans and other more sensitive components survived for so long and still work to full capacity.”

“Well, I do know one thing.” Gunny replied with a smirk. “That’s a hell of a weapon. Wouldn’t mind lugging around one of those myself.”

“As if you need one of those monsters on your back.” Grace voiced with a huff. “You already have the biggest gun out of all of us.” 

“And your point?” 

“My point… Gunny, how many times have we argued about this now?” Grace asked with a sigh.

“A whole bunch.” the big buck chuckled. 

Grace rolled her eyes. “Let’s just eat now, please.” 

With a giggle, I nudged Blake forward and followed my friends as we resumed walking. Still, I watched curiously as the turrets on the hangers rose to their full height on the roof, eventually coming to a halt as they secured themselves into place, the klaxons going silent and the warning lights shutting down as the turrets locked into place and halted, standing as Buckley’s silent and watchful sentinels. 

Now we were coming up to the mess hall hanger’s entrance, a single metal door that used a spinning wheel and an array of lever locks to open and close. As we approached, Gunny took the lead to use his horn, telekinetically turning the wheel and releasing the mechanisms to push the door inward. A short entrance hall later, and we emerged into a massive open chamber, the hanger once used to house the aerial war machines of Equestria now converted into a giant array of square and circular tables that made the mess hall. The tables took up the greater majority of the hanger’s floor space, and many of them were occupied by Buckley’s residents. There were easily a hundred ponies inside, eating and socializing and otherwise relaxing with their friends. Various tables were also being attended by what I guessed to be waiters and waitresses, identifiable by their simple yet clean white and black vests, who were moving in and out of the common area from a smaller room built into the east wall - the kitchens. However, most striking was the presence of a smaller building within the hanger itself, labeled Schoolhouse, and the music that begun to play in front of it. The building was a rectangular sheet metal structure resting at the hanger’s west side, and outside of this building’s single open entrance, a half ring of over a dozen smiling and attentive colts and fillies sat surrounding a group of four unicorns. One of them balanced himself only on his hind hooves behind a slim black keyboard instrument on a stand, some sort of piano variant. The second unicorn of the group wore what I recognized to be an acoustic guitar on a strap around his neck, levitating it to a playing position as the other two members of the ensemble, two mares, exchanged a lyrical melody on wooden recorder flutes, swaying lazily with the music they created for the entertainment of their young audience. As I watched the small ensemble continue to play, the two flute mares then joined together in rhythmic unison, playing a single melody at a separate yet parallel interval and creating a steady tempo that they continued to move to, the young ponies likewise leaning from side to side in motion with the music. Looking closer, I was amazed to see that, while their instruments were surrounded by telekinetic light, the flute players were using their own magic energy to cover and uncover the holes of their instruments in time with their tune, creating the desired melodies with pinpoint precision. For each note, the light of their spells would flicker away over one or more of the holes, and would likewise remain glowing over the others, to create the note to be played, and all of this was done with stunning accuracy; the only work the mares had to do without the use of their horns was to breath in and blow air through the instruments themselves. 

“Hey, Nova?” I heard Grace ask from beside me, unfortunately interrupting my listening. “Are you coming?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I’m coming.” I replied, turning my eyes away from the ensemble to look back at my friend. “Sorry, it’s just that ensemble over there…” I explained to her, hearing as one of the flutists played a solo in a new phrase with the guitar now accompanying her in steady triplets, the keyboard creating a sustained electronic drone pitch underneath them. “I mean, look at them. Listen to what they’re making… doesn’t that just make you relax?” 

“That music is very pretty.” Grace remarked; I looked over to see her smiling at me. “I can see why you want to stay.” she added. “I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out.”

“I know that we all should be going home together.” I added. “We made a plan and it was something we were going to follow, that way we’d be home sooner, back to where we belong. I don’t want to stay here in Buckley forever, of course… but-”

“Nova,” Grace interrupted, raising a hoof to my shoulder. “I understand, and I think the others do, too. Back in the Stable, music was one of your great interests. It was something you loved, something that relaxed you and freed your mind. We’d all seen you in the Hall of Records countless times, just listening away to those Old World recordings, taking some of the children you foalsat to listen with you.” My friend smiled as she added, “Music, like storytelling and caring for the Stable’s young, made you happy. And even then, you never got the chance to see the ponies behind it all, to see the music being performed with your own eyes. After seeing what I’ve seen here, I think it’s perfectly fair to let you take this opportunity.”

“Even if we have to split up?” I questioned. 

She nodded, smile retained. “Yes. Even out here on the surface, we all deserve our own chances to be happy with what we truly enjoy. Make no mistake, I’m happy with Hopeville and with how far we’ve come. But I still do dream about making a school out of the Hopeville Press, and one day, I hope to realize that dream, to make it happen and avail it to not only our own foals, but to those who come with their families on the way to Challenger. The way I see it, that’s just like you and your love of music, and now that this opportunity has shown itself, you should take it, even if only for a day.”

“Thanks, Gracie.” I replied, gratefully giving her a smile of my own as I looked over the members of the small band. “Something tells me that out of what I’ve heard of their music so far, they still have so much more, more genres and more groups. I just… I want to hear it all.” 

We giggled together at that. “Well, I imagine that’s going to be a lot of listening to do. Maybe after some lunch, huh?” Grace politely offered. 

“Maybe after some lunch.” I agreed, turning around to see my little brother and the others all looking back at me with varying levels of amusement. Happily, I trotted up to Blake and gave him a nudge, a gesture he returned. “Is there a free table?” I asked to the general group.

“Looks like one just opened up near the kitchens.” Gunny answered, and I looked to see him pointing past me and towards the east wall, where I spotted an open table a short length away from the kitchen entrance. “Let’s head to that one.” 

Trotting past me, Gunny took the lead and walked in between the first pair of occupied tables, the rest of us forming up behind him single-file as he guided us to the destination of choice. As we walked, I was both pleased and surprised as we received polite nods, waves, and even kind greetings from many of the Buckley ponies we passed. Though several residents kept their eyes averted to their plates or their conversations, or passed us only cursory glances, I found myself and the others exchanging bows and short words of greeting as I followed my friend through the hanger. The Buckley ponies I passed by tended to look much more comfortable around us, and it was funny to remember that only a couple of hours ago, these same ponies were looking upon us with hesitation, confusion, and even anger. This was definitely a nice change from our initial arrival here, and above all, it helped me ease into a more secure sense of safety, both for myself and for my brother; at least they wouldn’t be pointing field guns at us anymore.

“It still amazes me how quickly the latest news spreads around here.” Gunny remarked as we found our table. “We couldn’t have finished off those hornets more than thirty minutes ago.”

“It certainly does show an excellent sense of organization in this community.” Grace observed in reply, sitting down on her haunches by Gunny’s left side as the rest of us took up our own seats around the circular table. 

“And it beats getting glared at and whispered about.” I added.

“Yeah. I think we’ve completed that part of the mission. At least they won’t come bearing down on us.” Gunny agreed with a nod. “Now, we just need to discuss our next plan of action, and who’s going where. I actually already have another task in mind that I’m going to be attending to after some food.” He paused to look over to where Blossom sat by his right side, and then added, “While Blossom doesn’t talk much, I haven’t forgotten about her own agenda.” The violet mare gave a bashful little smile at Gunny, one which he returned with an encouraging smile of his own. “Go ahead.” 

At his word, Blossom looked back up to the table. “When we were led around the base by that other pegasus, he said that no other outsiders had recently attempted to enter the base. And that means that my friend is still out there somewhere.” she explained. “I’ve spent much more time in here than I would’ve liked, because every passing minute is another minute that my friend could be in trouble.”

“Where do you think she would’ve gone to?” Grace asked.

“She would’ve continued moving northward, I’m sure of it.” Blossom answered. “She didn’t come here, and Archer didn’t say anything about Buckley engaging any outsiders other than that raider patrol. I don’t know what’s out there on that highway that leads to Marefax, but if she followed the route we had initially planned to take, then she has to be hiding out somewhere along the road… maybe a farmhouse or highway service station.”

“Would she possibly have gone to Marefax alone?” Shore then inquired. 

Blossom shook her head. “No, no. Before you all found me, when I had all of my friends together, we had agreed that not one of us would enter Marefax by ourselves. Cities hold more dangers than the areas around them, and that was something we knew already.” 

“It sounds like if we could scout a few miles of that old highway, heading north, we might find where your friend is.” Gunny said. “It’s a highway, so there has to be a few pre-war places in between here and Marefax.”

“The farther you go, the more you’re likely to discover.” Raemor put in. “Manehattan’s a good example, as there were numerous structures surrounding even its outermost suburbs.” 

Gunny hummed in thought. “When we do this though, I just hope that we won’t have to get too deep into the city.”

“She’ll have kept a safe distance away herself.” Blossom assured. “If she’s hunkered down somewhere, it’ll be on the road.”

“Then that’s where we’ll look.” Gunny replied with a nod, adding as he looked back around the table, “I’ve already volunteered to lead Blossom out there to search, and I figure that after we eat a quick meal, we’ll be heading out.” 

He paused at his finished sentence, and I saw my friend’s eyes flick to his left, settling on something behind me. When I turned, I saw a young black unicorn buck with a light blue mane on approach, swiftly weaving between the tables as he trotted towards us. Like several others, he was garbed in a white vest, marking him as one of the table attendants, and he gave a nod of greeting as he stepped up to our table. “So you’re the outsiders.” he observed with an easy smile. “Word from Mother Shimmer is that you’re all to be welcomed as friends, so I say well met.” 

“I’m glad we managed to get on Buckley’s good side.” I replied to the waiter with a dip of my head. 

“Yeah. I just hope you don’t hold the whole artillery thing against us.” the buck remarked, his smile fading as he looked awkwardly amongst my company. “I know that that’s kind of ironic to hope for, all things considered, and really, I’ll understand if you do. But I saw the whole thing go down, saw those shells come down on you while I was walking along the runway. It was one of many times I’ve seen those things in action, and I don’t always like it.” 

“Don’t always like it, huh?” Gunny questioned, cocking an eyebrow while avoiding eye contact.

“No. I’m not a guard, but word goes around about what gets killed by our guns, and the rest of us eventually find out.” the waiter replied. “I’ll spare the details, other than that of the many who have tried and failed to enter… some really came looking for help.”

“I’m sure that’s one of the many reasons that Mother Shimmer is looking to end Buckley’s isolation, then.” Grace remarked to him.

The black unicorn nodded. “That’s right. And everypony’s put their trust in that plan, and in Mother Shimmer. She’s never let us down.” 

“A couple of us might be staying to help with your next steps.” I explained to him, the buck looking over to me. “It’s Shimmer’s hope that at least one of us will.”

“I can see the reasoning behind that, and I hope that one of you will consider it. Though I don’t know what exactly they plan to accomplish with this mission, it’s supposedly tied in with something that the artisans are cooking up.” the server unicorn explained, clearing his throat and levitating up a pencil and notepad as he added, “Either way, whatever you all decide to do is your business. I’m just here to get you some food and drink, and I’m happy to do it in repayment for your help in getting the power going again. Do you all know what you want?”

“Um… what do you have?” Grace asked with a smile. “I’m afraid we don’t exactly know ourselves.”

The waiter flushed a light red. “Eh… right. Well, first I should probably explain that all of our food is grown in our underground orchard. That’s how we’ve managed to live without scavenging for supplies outside.” he explained. “What started out as a design for a Stable-Tec apple orchard developed and expanded to accommodate other fruit plants, vegetable patches, wheat and oats, herbs for medicine, and other various plant life before it was officially installed into Stable One ninety-two. While we’re basically limited to grain, fruits, and vegetables, we’ve got a decent variety of each.” He paused as we pondered over his explanation, and after a long moment of indecision, he added, “If you’d like, I can bring a sample tray or two out for you all to share.”

“Does that sound good to everypony?” Gunny asked, each of us eventually giving our own gesture of approval before he gave a nod to the waiter. “Alright, let’s do that then.”

“Okay.” the black unicorn hastily jotted down the order, briefly looking up from his writing to add, “For drinks, we have water as well as flavored variants - orange, strawberry, watermelon, that kind of thing. And we also have hard cider, as well as a stash of Wild Pegasus and Buckweiser, if any of you are interested in more potent beverages.” Right away, half the group went with regular water, with Blake ordering strawberry water, Gunny opting for hard cider, and Raemor taking only a small glass of whiskey. “I’ll be back in a bit with your orders.” the waiter finished, stashing his notepad and pencil into his vest and dismissing himself with a quick bow.

“So, like I said, we’ll be heading out after we eat.” Gunny continued as we settled back into the conversation. “The afternoon’s already ticking away, and I want to have plenty of daylight out there. Now, the last thing I need to know is who will and who won’t be coming with us. While I’d appreciate some extra hooves out there, I don’t know if everypony’s already started making plans, or if Shimmer needs more help.”

“As far as I know, helping to repair the base’s mainframe was the only task I was needed for.” Shore spoke first. “I can help you.” 

“If you require my help, tell me so, and I’ll travel with you.” Raemor put in. “But if not, I had intended to visit the church here, to take some time to unwind… to pray to the Goddesses.”

“I think it’d be best for at least one or two of us to stay here.” I voiced. “If you want eyes in the sky, I can come with you. But if not, I’ll stay here and be with Blake.”

“It really doesn’t matter to me how many of you follow me or not. Even if only one or two of you come, I still appreciate what you’re doing for me.” Blossom replied, turning to me with a thin smile. “While having you watching over us would be helpful, I really think that you staying with your brother would be better for the both of you.”

“Me too.” Blake chimed in, flashing me a big smile as I cocked an eyebrow back at him.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Alright. If you’re sure, Blossom, then I’ll stay behind on this one.”

“I think that’s perfectly fair.” 

“I can come along instead, then.” Grace then offered. “Between Nova being treated by Challenger’s doctor after Plainwell that one day, and Doctor Preston allowing me the use of his own stock for my tasks here, I still have most of my own medical supply from Hopeville. If something should go amiss, I should be there with you, just incase.”

“Well, let’s hope not.” Blossom replied with worry. “I just want to find her and bring her back.”

“We’ll find her.” Gunny assured the nervous mare with another heartening smile. “Have a little faith, friend.”

“So then we’ve got this all figured out?” Grace asked. “You, Shore, Blossom, and I will go, and Nova, Blake and Raemor will stay here until we get back?”

“That sounds like the plan.” Gunny answered, looking among each of us. “This sound good?” 

“If that is you’re final choice, then I am in agreement as well.” Raemor responded with a nod.

“Sounds good to me.” I confirmed, reaching over to hug my brother against me, the colt nuzzling my chest in thanks. “But when you’re out there, just please look out for each other. Like you’ve all been saying, you’ll be getting closer to Marefax with every step to the north that you take… so just look out for anything and everything… you know, the usual.”

Nods went around the table, sealing the next plan of action. But on cue, through the chatter of the mess hall, a male voice cut out and projected to us. “Order’s up. Here we are, outsiders.” The black unicorn buck had returned, horn alight with blue as he levitated two metal platters, seven drinks, and two pitchers all together as he trotted up to our table and passed the glasses around. “Purified water, fresh from the talisman.” he explained as my glass was set in front of me, filled to the rim with clear and untainted water. “Strawberry flavored water for the colt.” Blake’s glass was literally the same as mine as the waiter set it on the table, and as Blake returned to his spot, he looked it over with a curious eye. 

The drink itself looked exactly like regular water, other than the presence of small bubbles on the waterline. But when Blake reared up and braced himself against the table, reaching over to cup the glass in his forehooves before taking his first drink, his face immediately lit up. “Hey, it does taste like strawberries!” 

“Strawberry’s a favorite among Buckley’s foals as well.” the waiter remarked with a smile, setting Gunny and Raemor’s drinks before them. “And now the meal.” he added, the two platters floating over and setting down at the center of the table. “We’ve got the fruit platter for you, and the second one there is the vegetable tray, both of them with a little bit of just about everything that we grow.”

“Oh my!” Grace exclaimed with a smile. “Is that cantaloupe I see there?” 

“That it is, outsider.” the waiter responded, stepping back from the table after setting the last tray down. “In the fruit dish, you’ve got cantaloupe, watermelon, red apples, green grapes, and a few strawberries as well. Then, in the vegetable tray you’ve got celery, lettuce, carrots, and an assortment of flowers.” And that was the whole of it, each tray adorned with a whole array of foods, divided from one other by plastic sheets so as to keep them from mixing; it looked perfectly portioned to fill our group of seven.

“Wow.” Gunny remarked with a shake of his head. “This ought to fill the belly rather efficiently.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, you’ve all earned it for helping Mother Shimmer today.” the waiter replied with a bow. “Enjoy.” 

With that, the black unicorn departed, leaving us to our feast of fresh food, and with an energetic nod, Gunny said, “Well, everypony. Dig in.” 

***				***				***

“Leaving already, outsiders?” 

I looked up to the left-side watchtower as we approached Buckley’s main gate, seeing as a unicorn guard on watch there set aside his assault rifle to speak. “Only some of us are, and not for too long.” I called back up to the stallion. “There’s another pony out there that’s a friend to one of our company, and some of us are going out to search for her and bring her back to safety.” 

“Another outsider? You’re not planning on bringing this pony here are you?” the guard questioned. 

“Well… it’s kind of what we’d hoped, if it’s not much trouble.” I responded. 

“Sorry, but I can’t allow that.” the guard buck objected. “We’ve already let you lot in, and you’ve done a fair share to help us, but that doesn’t mean that you can start inviting friends over like some kind of slumber party.”

… Definitely not what I had hoped to hear. 

Just before we had finished our bountiful lunch, in only around twenty minutes, another guardspony had briefly met with us to discuss the whereabouts of our remaining equipment. Because of our ‘truce’ with Buckley, Shimmer had given clearance for everypony in our company that hadn’t helped kill off the sand hornets to have their weapons and ammunition returned to them, and after all of our gear was returned to its respective owners, we were ready to carry out our next plans. But this hadn’t been something that I had anticipated when we had been discussing our next course of action… and I felt just a little stupid at not having seen it coming.

“I’m sorry.” I called, stepping ahead of the group. “Maybe it’s a little too early to ask for favors, and I know that Buckley’s just starting to accept us around here, but this is important and personal.”

“Personal or not, it’s not my call.” the guard retorted. “Only Mother Shimmer decides what to do with that.” 

“Wait!” Blossom suddenly spoke, trotting up next to me. “My friend means more to me than my own safety, and right now, she’s out there all alone, hunkered down in a ditch somewhere, going hungry, and scared to death of being found by another raider patrol! Please, you have to let us go out there and bring her back. If I have to, I’ll give you anything you want that I have, but I just want my friend to be safe again…” 

I looked back over at her, seeing the genuine passion for her friend’s well-being behind her violet eyes; but the way she spoke made me concerned. “Blossom…” 

“I mean it!” she called to the silent guard, completely ignoring my voice. “And if she causes any trouble here, I’ll take responsibility for her actions. I promise.”

“No, look… fine.” the guard eventually replied with a sigh. “You can bring your friend here, and I’ll inform Mother Shimmer. But this friend of yours is going to undergo the same treatment that you all did when you arrived. She’ll have to have any weapons on her stripped away and stored, and she’ll be under careful observation… and really, I can’t promise that Mother Shimmer will approve, but I’ll tell her what you told me. When do you plan on returning from this little trip of yours?”

“Hopefully between two to three hours from now at the most, earlier than that if possible.” Gunny answered from behind me.

“Okay, fine. I’ll make sure Archer knows to keep watch for you, that way you don’t get fired on by the artillery teams again.” the guard explained, briefly disappearing into the watchtower long enough for the front gate to activate and rattle open. “There.” the guard said, looking out over the railing at us again. “I’ve opened the gate for you, so whoever among you is heading out can do so. Just don’t make me regret doing this, outsiders.”

“Thank you, sir.” Gunny called, the guard giving a nod before returning to his station. 

Then, beside me, I heard as Blossom let out a sigh of relief, making my raise an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Hey, are you okay?” I asked softly. 

Her eyes fell to the ground as she lightly shook her head. “I was afraid…” she began, her whispered words cutting off as she swallowed hard. “I was afraid that I’d have to… offer myself to him.”

What?? 

“Why would you think that??” I whispered back in alarm. “These are good ponies, and you shouldn’t need to give them anything when it comes to trying to rescue a friend, let alone your dignity.”

“What dignity?!” Blossom snapped back in a fierce undertone, making me recoil back as a hard glare drilled into my eyes. “That was stolen from me when those raiders raped me in a broken down building, again, and again, and again. Why do you think I want to find my friend, Nova?” Eyes still locked to mine, she begun to angrily stalk away towards the open gate. “Because she’s all that I have left in this world, and I will not see her die at the hooves of those psychotic sons of bitches!” I was only left staring after her, silent as the violet mare turned away and trotted past the gate, leaving all of us at her back. 

“Hey. What was all that about?” Gunny suddenly questioned, trotting up to my right side. 

“I… I don’t know…” I began, though my mental gears swiftly clicked together to make me say otherwise. “Well, yesterday’s still on her mind… and it’s abundantly clear that it’s weighing heavily on her.” I paused to turn to my friend, seeing Grace and Shore likewise looking back at me with confusion. “Gunny, all of you, please keep an eye on her. Obviously, she’s not in the best of moods, and I’m worried.”

“Don’t worry, Nova.” Gunny assured with a nod, pulling me against him and into an embrace that I easily returned. “We’ve got her back, and each others’.”

Releasing me, he trotted out after Blossom, our newest companion waiting outside and facing the west, towards the direction of the highway. I gave Shore a similar hug as well, the buck giving me his own assurances before following Gunny out, and lastly, I embraced Gracie, releasing her before she said, “I know how you feel, friend,  about Blossom’s well-being. The doctor part of me says that she should be staying here and just relaxing, staying out of unexplored wasteland territory… but I understand how important this friend of hers must be. I’d feel the same way about you, about everypony in our company, and I’d go out looking just like Blossom if one of you went missing.” 

I nodded my agreement. “Same here, same here. Just… look after them Grace, even if they don’t need a bandage.” 

“I will.” she replied, a smile growing on her face as she added, “And perhaps once we get back, we can visit the spa together and see just what that place is all about.”

I smiled in return. “That sounds wonderful.” 

“Alright. We’ll be back soon, you three.” 

“Goddesses be with you all.” Raemor spoke from behind me, bowing his head to Grace who fully returned the gesture.

“Thank you, Raemor.” Turning around, Grace passed the gate and joined where the others had formed a group. As I watched them enter a brief discussion, the gate rattled before sliding closed and locking, separating Buckley from the wasteland once again. A moment later, and my four friends were on the move, following Buckley’s chain-link perimeter westward towards the highway. 

“Will Blossom be okay?” Blake asked, nudging my left foreleg. 

Looking down at him, I met his concerned eyes with a comforting smile. “I think that, in time, she will be.” I replied. “She’s been through a lot recently, and it’ll take her some time to move on. But yes, I think that eventually she’ll come around.”

My baby brother slowly nodded. “Okay.” 

In his eyes, I could see that he was thinking of things, and I had a hunch as to what exactly those thoughts revolved around. Blossom’s situation, in a way, was similar to Blake’s and mine. Somepony was out there who she cared for greatly, and having seen the bodies of her two other friends in the radio station, her claim that this mare she was searching for was the last friend she had was believable. While Blake and I had each other, our parents were gone, and it was hard enough living on the surface knowing that, in a better world, they would’ve still been with us. Our loss, and Blossom’s loss of her two friends, was relatively identical in impact, and thinking upon it, I felt a sort of connection to Blossom; for me, it was Blake. If anything happened to him, his safety would be my single and only concern in this entire world. He was the last of my blood family, and though I dreaded to think it, I knew that without him… well, to put it mildly, I’d have a much harder time going through the effort of helping my fellow survivors. 

I could gather that this pony that Blossom was bent on rescuing was somepony that was very much like family to her, especially now that she was the last pony left of Blossom’s company before we had come across her. She was doing her best to prevent another loss in her life, just like I was doing my best to keep Blake safe… even if recent events could contradict that. For that reason, I lowered my head down and gave Blake a kiss on the forehead, embracing him one more time.

“I pray for a safe journey for them all.” Raemor voiced.

After Blake released his hold around my neck, I looked back around and faced my aged friend, patiently waiting for me. “And that they’ll find Blossom’s companion.” I added, to which Raemor gave a slight nod. 

“Where will you go now?” he asked.

“Since you didn’t get around to trading, I’ll go to the munitions hanger and try and barter for some extra ammo.” I explained, nodding for Blake to follow me as I begun to walk towards the left airstrip. “Speaking of which, how are you on ammunition?”

“I have enough to last me for awhile yet. Since they didn’t tamper with my equipment, I still have all that I brought with me.” Raemor answered. “I apologize for not trading when I said I would, but Mother Shimmer found me first.”

“That’s fine.” I replied. “Though if I might ask, what did you two talk about?” 

“I had told her that I was not originally among your group, and that I had come from elsewhere. Because of that, she was curious about my real home, and my opinion on Hopeville and my present company.” 

I gave a little smile. “And what did you say?” 

“Well, you know my thoughts about Hopeville, about how it reminded me of my home after Hoofington.” the old unicorn replied. “Of the present company, I am thankful that you allowed me to travel with you, and I respect your determination, your goals, and I respect you as the ponies you are.”

“And what of your home?” I asked after a moment of silence. 

“That… well…” Raemor’s transparent hesitation to answer left me a little surprised, and I looked to see him staring out towards Buckley’s church. “Har… home is one of the things I pray for when I can.” he answered. “It is one of the reasons why I want to see this community’s church, because if it is a holy place, a genuine place of worship, then I will be in the presence of the spirits of the Goddesses… and I wish to seek their council.” Pausing, the old buck turned back to look me in the eye, taking note of my perplexed expression; he hadn’t said it, but I felt that this was a bit of a personal subject. “Don’t worry about having angered me or anything of the sort.” he added. “Like I said before, I’m just an old buck remembering old history. 

I had to express my concern; the signs were becoming clearer. “Is home… a sensitive subject for you, my friend?” I asked. “If it is, you should just say so.” 

Raemor hummed as he faced forward again. “Yes… I’m afraid it is, Nova.” he answered; I made a mental note of that response. “I’d like to take my leave now. If you have no further need of me, I’ll be in the church for awhile.” 

“Sure thing, Raemor.” I replied with what I thought was a friendly smile. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Of course.” 

Without further talk, Raemor veered away into the dirt median separating the runways, making his way to the church as I continued towards the hangers with Blake at my side. Having already passed the balefire missile silo entrance, we were coming up on the munitions storage building, the closest of the three hangers to us. The side door itself was already open when we arrived, and a single stallion was standing outside the entrance, tapping a hoof over the pipbuck equipped around his right foreleg; the orange and black mane against his yellow coat belonged to a pony whom I recognized as part of our squad in the generator building.

“Hey, senorita.” Ricochet called with a wave. “How are you?” 

“Hi there. I’m doing alright, especially now that I’ve had a taste of Buckley’s fresh grown food.” I replied.

“Oh yeah.” the yellow earth pony agreed with a smirk. “My personal favorite is the fruit salad the cooks whip up. That’s good eating.” 

“All seven of us got more than our fill for lunch.” I explained as we stopped before him. “It was certainly delicious.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat any more food for the rest of the day.” Blake commented beside me, giving me a small smile. 

“That’s typically their goal, little amigo.” Ricochet replied with a light laugh, then nodding to the hanger’s open entrance as he asked, “Are you two heading inside?” 

“Yes. I’m just looking to trade.” 

“I was on my break for a few minutes, and I was just about to head back in to return to my post.” Trotting ahead, Ricochet passed into the entrance, calling back, “Come on in. I’ll show you where the munitions manager is before I get back to work.” 

“Alright. Thanks.” Nudging Blake to come along, the two of us followed after the buck, walking single-file into a small entrance hall similar to the mess hall hanger. Upon crossing it, we emerged into the massive open space that was the hanger itself. This hanger looked to have once been a repair bay of sorts, as the south wall was lined with numerous maintenance stalls, shelving units, tool boxes, and work benches - single-pony stations dedicated to the maintaining of smaller mechanical parts. At the north wall, I beheld an enormous store of steel shipping containers, lined side-by-side and stacked in twos and threes atop one another, spread along half the length of the hanger’s far side. Each of the containers had painted black labels on them, designating them as ammo containers, weapon crates, armor storages, or spare parts boxes, and each of them bore a faded yet legible print of Celestia’s sun, the mark of the Old World Equestrian Army. In front of those, four reinforced military convoy wagons sat side by side, each one in working order and large enough to haul one of the steel containers behind them plus extra. Next to all of that, occupying the rest of the north side of the building, was the largest stockpile of weapons and military hardware that I had ever laid my eyes upon. There were dozens upon dozens of ammo boxes, stacked in pyramid-shaped piles or on warehouse skids, all organized at intervals along the wall. Open wooden crates, three times the size of a fully grown pony, were packed over their tops with grenades and explosive ordnance, each one marked with the type of grenade or explosive device, ranging from simple frag grenades and flash bangs, to C4 bricks and devices called kicker charges. Along with all of this, dozens of rifle racks were mixed into the assembly, holding a whole set of weapons per unit that ranged from assault rifles and combat shotguns to precision carbines, sniper rifles, light machineguns, and grenade rifles and launchers of varying models. There was not one single weapon that resembled a worn down firearm of the wasteland, such as a hunting rifle or a lever-action shotgun - these weapons were all military-grade. But then, I nearly fell into disbelief when I spotted the final accessory to Buckley’s massive weapons depot. In front of the storage crates, set side-by-side to one another at the back of the hanger, were two fully assembled howitzers, the same model as those outside, that indisputably served as backup units should one of the other guns come in for repairs; one buck, a brown unicorn with a heavily grayed dark red mane and tail, was currently inspecting one of the steel shipping containers, and I saw a rack of giant gun shells within - howitzer ammunition. 

Goddesses, these ponies could take on an army all by themselves!

“Sweet Celestia… look at all of that…” 

“Eh.” Ricochet dismissively replied, pausing in his trot to look back at me. “You might think this is a lot, but really, it’s only enough to ensure that everypony in Buckley can be sufficiently armed and armored incase of an attack. And by sufficiently armed and armored, I only mean one combat rig, one primary weapon, and one sidearm with a good amount of ammo for both weapons. You might’ve already heard, but Buckley has over eight hundred ponies living in it, and the base itself is a big place. We need all of this to keep our home safe.”

“Well, I understand that. That’s how things are back where we come from.” I explained, Ricochet nodding in understanding. “But still, this is the biggest armory I’ve ever seen, and it’s all Old World military, too. There’s none of the more rugged and… well… less advanced weapons that I’ve seen being used by raiders and wastelanders. It all looks perfectly preserved.”

“That’s because it is, amiga. All of this is the spoils of our finding Fort Volker so many years ago, and it took months to drag it all back here. That was a difficult time for all of us.” Ricochet said, smiling as he added, “But if you think all that’s impressive, you must think very highly of Lily. I can’t say I blame you.”

Uh…

I cocked an eyebrow, clueless. “I’m sorry. Who’s Lily?” 

Ricochet, as luck would have it, only threw a mirror image of myself back at me, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in evident surprise. “Wait, Mother Shimmer didn’t tell you about Lily?” 

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Huh. I figured she would have since she went and showed you the concert hall and everything. Oh well. I can explain her easy enough.” he replied, nodding over to the west wall of the hanger where I spotted another sheet metal building established within the hanger itself. This building was much larger than the structure in the mess hall, greater in both width and height, and nearly touching the hanger ceiling while stretching along half the wall. This building was also more complex, complete with its own windows, two floors, and a closed sliding door; above the door, an improvised label had been set up, reading Lily’s Garage. “First, you should understand that Lily isn’t a who. Lily is a what.” Ricochet explained. “By now, you know that above everything else, we value the music that’s been with us and our previous generations since Stable one ninety-two. But while music is Buckley’s greatest cultural trait and most cherished gift, Lily is Buckley’s greatest weapon.”

“Greatest weapon?” I jabbed a hoof to the weapons stash that took up a fourth of the hanger all by itself. “You mean greater than all of that??” 

“Well, technically Lily came with all of that.” Ricochet explained with a smirk. “And also technically, Lily wasn’t our greatest weapon when that balefire missile was around.”

Technically, I thought he was being too technical… “So you found ’Lily’ at this fort?” I asked, hiding my less gracious thoughts away. 

“Yeah. She was the only one of her kind being stored there, too.” the yellow buck answered. “Found a whole bunch of files on her, some of them even stamped with the M.W.T. logo.”

That caught my interest. “The Ministry of Wartime Technology?” I asked in surprise. 

“That’s right. But the ministry wasn’t directly involved with this project. The development was actually done by ponies that used to work for the ministry, ponies who quit or retired and moved to the southeast to escape the brunt of the war. Only when it was finished did the ministry discover it.” Ricochet explained. “All Applejack played a role in was testing it and approving it for use in the field.”

“What exactly was this project?”

“Lily’s a tank, amiga, and she’s a damn big one.” Ricochet answered. “Back during the early years of the war, vehicles were rare sights. But once the war really got going after Littlehorn, a whole new arms race began outside of the battlefield. The files designated Lily as the Judgment Project, a development program created late in the war with the sole simple purpose of not just killing zebras, but eradicating entire battalions with as little deployment of Equestrian ground soldiers as possible. Judgment’s objective was to create a line of heavy combat land vehicles for the Equestrian Army, units that could pass undamaged through necromantic spells, gun down enemy advanced robotics and vehicles with ease, repair themselves in the heat of the fight, protect themselves from heavy weaponry and countermeasures, and most important - combat the zebras’ Behemoth-class heavy armor, the primary vehicle of the zebra force. The Judgment Project vehicles were supposed to be the primary frontline elements of the Equestrian Army, ‘super-units’ built to save as many allied lives as possible by destroying the opposition before it reached them. In other words, they were pretty much your anti-everything unit when it came to ground warfare - powerful and hard to kill.”

“And you have one of those?” Blake asked curiously.

“You bet we do.” Ricochet answered him with a hearty smile. “I’m actually the commander of Lily’s crew, and I drive her myself. She’s Buckley’s protector, guardian of its people, shield of its traditions, and my own personal pride and joy.” 

Blake cocked his head. “Why do you call her Lily?”

“Oh, well, that’s more of a Buckley thing than part of the actual project.” Ricochet responded with a laugh. “You see, just a month back, we had brought Lily out for a crew exercise, and had left her outside unattended while we received our exercise objectives. In that time, one of our foals painted a white flower on the armor. She loved the thing so much that she nearly cried when we were about to remove it. So, we kept it on, she was the happiest little filly in all of Buckley, and the name Lily stuck to everypony.”

I couldn’t help but smile as Ricochet continued to chuckle at the passing memory. “Aw, that’s adorable.”

“Oh, I know it. In fact, you’ll actually see Lily in just a few minutes if you stick around.” Ricochet turned and began trotting towards the garage, stopping long enough to look over his shoulder and add, “She really is quite the sight to see, and I’ve been with her for years. Even ask the munitions manager. He’s one of the veterans of Lily’s previous crews, and he knows even more about her and where she really came from than I do. He’s the brown buck out by the howitzer shells if you want to trade.” 

“Alright then.” I replied with a smile and wave. “Thanks, Ricochet.”

With a final farewell, Blake and I headed for the north wall to go about our business. The munitions buck had since finished his examination of the howitzer shells and was trotting towards an open kiosk, within which sat a metal desk and a pair of filing cabinets. Even before we approached the booth, the elderly unicorn opened one of the cabinets and retrieved a clipboard from within, looking over the document on its surface before giving a nod and setting it aside. 

“Excuse me, sir?” I called, the old unicorn swinging his gaze around to me. 

“Hello, outsiders.” the buck responded. “I see Ricochet was givin’ you the history of ol’ Lily.”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s quite the machine from what he told us.” 

“That she is.” the buck agreed with a reminiscent smile. “Me an’ her saw our own fair share of combat back when Buckley was buildin’ itself up. She played the largest role out of everythin we had in keepin us safe from raiders and soldiers.” Then, the buck paused, raising a hoof to his head as he chuckled. “Oh, where are my manners?” he spoke, raising a hoof to me. “The name’s Olli, and after everything you’ve done for Buckley, I can easily say that I’m pleased to meet ya.”

“Likewise, Olli.” I replied with a smile, bumping my own hoof against his. “I’m Nova, and this is my little brother Blake.” 

Olli gave his same greeting to Blake. “Hey there, youngin.” 

“Hi.” Blake spoke with smile of his own; he looked to be progressively growing more comfortable around the base. 

“So, what can I do for ya, Nova?” 

“I’m just hoping to see if you’d be willing to exchange a little ammo for some disassembled weapons I have with me.” I explained, nodding over my left shoulder at my saddlepacks. “If nothing else, I’m sure there’s a few good spare parts out of what I have.”

“Hm… mind if I have a look?” Olli asked, to which I gave a nod. 

In a second, his horn flared up with magic, and I felt as my saddlebag came open and he looked inside. “I do have a couple of small things in there that are more personal items, just a note, a newspaper page, and a holodisk.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t touch em.” Olli assured, levitating out the various dismantled weapon pieces one by one and setting them aside. From the radio station, we had salvaged all that could fit inside the saddlepack without weighing me down in flight, these parts including one fully dismantled assault rifle, the firing components of a combat shotgun, three disassembled pistols of varying calibers, and the chamber and action of two semi-automatic carbine rifles. Inspecting each one quickly, Olli closed my saddlebag, leaving my own items inside, and brought the parts to his desk where he swiftly arranged them into a neat array for further inspection. “Alright, sure.” he spoke with a nod of approval. “I can clean these parts and store them away for emergency use. And in return…” He paused, looking over to one of the stashes of ammo boxes and humming in thought. “I’ll let you pick two different calibers, and I’ll give ya a supply of each. Sound fair?”

“Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“Alright then. What are ya lookin for?” he asked, gesturing up to the nearest pyramid of ammo boxes. 

“I’m looking for some extra machinegun rounds, five fifty-six. That, and perhaps some three-o-eight rounds.” I explained. “One of my friends has a light machinegun that he uses to provide fire support for our group when we travel outside Hopeville, and my own sniper rifle doesn’t use an autoloader, so some extra rounds for it would be handy to have around, just incase.” 

With a nod, Olli got to work searching for the correct ammo boxes. But only after a short moment, he paused long enough to suddenly ask, “Scary things aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry?” 

“Balefire missiles. They’re scary things.” Olli clarified, craning his head around to look me in the eyes. “I saw your cover page from the Hopeville Press, about the megaspell strike in the southeast.”

“Oh, that… Yes, they are scary, to say the least.” I replied in understanding. “I’ll be honest, even the picture itself made me grow a little cold for a second or two.” 

The old unicorn nodded. “I hear ya. But in all honesty, seein a picture on a piece of paper, that’s not like seein the real thing.” 

“You’ve seen a balefire blast before?” I inquired. 

“Yep, and it came from the missile based here, too.” Olli answered, scanning the ammo boxes once again. 

“You used the balefire missile yourselves?…” 

“Once we’d looted everythin out of it that we could, we used Buckley’s balefire missile to destroy Fort Volker.” Olli responded, horn flashing as two ammo boxes removed themselves from the pile and hovered down to the floor. “We did it so that nopony in the region could rival our own firepower and be able to have a fair chance at invadin our home and doin major damage.” 

“That doesn’t really seem like the best reason to fire off a balefire missile.” I observed with a frown. 

“Oh? Would it have been better, then, if we’d turned it against Challenger? Or perhaps this Hopeville place I’ve heard of?” Olli countered, shrugging as he set the ammo boxes before me and opened them. “I mean, if we still had that missile today, just imagine what we could’ve done with it.”

“Okay, okay.” I huffed with a shake of my head. “You made your point.”

“The purpose we gave that missile was a prevention policy, something else to help ensure our own safety, and nothing more.” Olli explained with a small smile. “And for as long as we’ve lived here, it’s seemed to work… but I tell you what outsider, seein one of those giant missiles come roarin up out of its silo and arcin into the sky… it still puts a little fear into a pony, especially knowin that they were the bringers of the end times, the destroyers of worlds, whatever you wanna call em.” With a sigh, he added, “I can rightly say that I hope Buckley never sees another one again.” 

I gave the old buck a solemn nod; I could understand what he meant, easily. “But at least you used it for a good cause, it being for the protection of your people.” I replied encouragingly. 

“It was another one of Shimmer’s ideas before she was our official leader.” he remarked with a chuckle. “She said every single artifact of the Old World can become a treasure, so long as the right pony with the right virtues gets her hooves on it. That’s what she told us before we fired that thing off.”

“Huh… I’ll have to remember that one. Those are smart words.” I complimented, smiling as I looked towards the two ammo boxes before me. 

“Well, she’s a smart mare.” Gesturing to the boxes, he added, “Now, the box on the right has standard rifle rounds, five fifty-six, and the left box has armor piercing rounds for larger rifles, three-o-eight.” As he spoke, he brought over his clipboard, briefly looking over the documentation and nodding before setting it back down again. “Accordin to the inventory list, I’ve got enough extra ammo to give you a maximum of thirty rounds for your sniper, and seventy-five machinegun rounds for your friend. This still leaves me with plenty of extra for our own guards to use outside of the storages they tap into. Just keep in mind that these will have to be manually loaded into your own magazines. I don’t have any of those to spare.”

“Sounds fair to me. Anything you can give would be welcome.” 

At his nod, I watched as the old unicorn levitated over a leather pouch, loading the promised thirty armor piercing rounds for Blue Fire’s Torch into the bag. But then came a sudden churning of something behind me, my ears perking at the noise before my eyes were drawn to the east side of the hanger, the front of the building. The entire wall was coming open, splitting down the center and slowly coming apart to reveal the cloudy expanse of the outdoors. At the same time, something inside the hanger let loose a rippling roar, close, that came to life from inside the garage. The garage door was already opened and disappeared up behind the wall of the building, and from within the dim lighting of the structure came another roar, rising in intensity to a sustained and deafening volume. And then, with a sudden mechanical screech, out came a massive monster of dark grey steel, slowly emerging into the hanger on grinding treads. “Meet Lily, outsiders!” Olli called over the noise with a laugh, as I only continued to stare at the mechanical marvel. 

Buckley’s tank was a colossal machine of war, with an elongated body that rolled forward on two wide treads which wrapped along, over, and under the vehicle’s full length. The armor itself was, as far as my inexpert eye could tell, simple yet effective steel plate, and judging by the sheer size of the tank itself, the armoring had to be thick around the greater majority of the hull. Lily’s armaments encompassed a wide array of weaponry - a single-barreled turret was placed on top of the body nearer the front of the vehicle, a second smaller cannon was mounted in a sponson built into the tank’s left side (with another undoubtedly on the right side), a minigun was fixed to the main gun itself, fastened to its right side, and behind the turret, positioned just in front of the open hatch, was a mounted long-barreled machinegun, complete with a large ammo box built right into its frame. At the very end of the sloped back of the machine, a long plastic flagstaff carried a single banner - Celestia’s sun against a white backdrop, marking it as a military machine. However, deadly and intimidating as the beast of a vehicle was, there was still one mark on the tank’s armor that caught me off guard, even when it had been described and explained to me. On the left side of the tank, just past the gun sponson, was a clearly visible white flower against the dark steel, a striking contrast to the bristling weapons, intimidating armor color, and deafening engine that accompanied it. 

As the heavy tank rumbled on by, the great noisy engine and grinding treads only gradually growing softer, I looked back at Olli, the old unicorn merely continuing to smile. “She’s a beauty isn’t she?” 

“I think one of my friends is going to flip when he sees that.” I amusedly replied, watching as the vehicle passed out of the hanger and onto the runway; with a screeching of gears, the right tread of the vehicle snapped still as the left continued to roll, turning the tank to the right before the internal components creaked again, activating both treads and sending the tank rolling straight again. “I’ve read about some vehicles used in the war. A lot of the articles and manuals I looked over dealt with the Enclave airships. There wasn’t a lot of information on Equestrian armored ground assets, let alone tanks.”

“In regards to that tank, there most likely wouldn’t be anythin on em anyway.” Olli replied. “When we put the dates together of the few remaining intact files in Fort Volker, we found that Lily’s development files put her production time near the tail end of the war, maybe only a few months before the bombs fell. Aside from that, her completion and approval dates were listed as being only a couple of weeks before the last recorded document. That, and when we found Fort Volker itself, Lily was the only vehicle stored within. Whether others of the same model or of a different type were made or not, we don’t know. What we do know, however, is that Lily is native to the southeast, figuratively speakin of course. Since Marefax was where a good number of retirees from the Ministries in the heartland traveled to, the city played the entirety of the role in the project’s funding and production. But we only know the most basic of details, and don’t really care about even those. What’s important to us is that that tank is secured in Buckley, and she’s our number one resort should the howitzers fail to keep our enemies away.” I gave a nod in response, taking in the brief historical description of Buckley’s vehicle. Though a war machine it was, there was a level of intrigue that I held for Lily. It was easy to understand the absolute and obvious rarity of such a vehicle, or any operational vehicle really, let alone a heavy combat tank. Though not a special talent of my own in any way or form, history had always managed to find refuge in my mind since my early years learning of the Elements of Harmony and their influence on the Old World. Throughout my time on the surface, this didn’t change, because no matter how little or large of an impact it made, there was always a certain feeling tugging at me when discovering an Old World site - Hopeville, Plainwell, the news radio station, and now Buckley. Nostalgia, longing, appreciation… despite the crumbling remains of the Old World I had seen, I was always reminded of how things were in the old days, or at least reminded of how they had been described in the Stable’s texts. That was something that I wanted to see for myself, the world the way it was before the war, from the natural aspects to the cultural. Buckley held some of that here, at least a sliver of pre-war tradition, behind their guns… but for the whole of Equestria to see that, to accept that, now…… it was a hefty wish. 

Lily was just another example of something that provoked those feelings, what I felt when seeing an artifact of my ancestors - the ponies of the Old World Equestria. To the finest detail, it made me think of the past, to what Marefax would’ve been like while Lily was under development, to who the project workers were that brought Lily to drawing paper before sending her to the production line. But in the present, seeing Lily also made me… well, nervous. Howitzers, anti-air weaponry, a massive munitions cache, and now, a tank. Buckley had the tools to face down many foes, and in the worst of all possibilities… they had the power to combat Challenger, and quite possibly prevail over the entire settlement. Though Mother Shimmer was much more concerned with the safety of her own people from the outside, and I had yet to see the potency of Challenger’s own collected strength that currently resided in Ashton, the possibility that Buckley could launch an invasion of the southeast all on their own was a small patch of black haze that lingered in my thoughts, even if just barely. It was still enough of a reason not to fully abandon my guard… and a reason also to continue to aid this community and to win the entirety of their trust. 

“Now then, these pouches have the ammo I’ve promised.” Olli then spoke, levitating over two leather bags and holding them before my eyes to see; the ammo inside clinked and clattered heavily even in the air. “I’ve also labeled them for you, so you know which is which, but remember that you’ll have to load them into magazines yourselves.”

“That’s not a problem. I appreciate it.” I replied, the two ammo bags hovering over to my free saddlepack and slipping inside. 

“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, outsiders, I’ve got some more inventoryin to do in preparation for tomorrow’s expedition.” 

With a final farewell, I nudged Blake along towards the wide-open exit of the hanger, following Lily’s path back outside. When we emerged, I could still hear that roaring engine in the distance, and a rising trail of dust marked the tank’s position to my right, the metal beast rolling along Buckley’s south perimeter. However, much closer to me in my line of sight, trotting along the side of the munitions hanger, was a growing cluster of ponies, foals numbering well over a dozen to be exact. And to my surprise… well, pleasant surprise, Archer was at the lead of the chatty group of children, currently smiling as two foals closest to him happily laughed together. But then, “Hey, look! It’s the outsiders!” 

Even before Blake or I could respond, or even move another step, over a half dozen of the children in the group came galloping for us and clustered around us in a colorful and energetic ring, bombarding us with twice as many questions in unison, some simple questions along the lines of what our names were, and others more bizarre like what language we spoke in the outside world. So out of the blue was the attention of the children that Archer had to come to my rescue, quickly calling out to his charges, “Hey, come on everypony, give the outsiders some room now.”

On command, the children who had nearly fully encircled myself and my brother backed a few paces away, giving us some breathing room as Archer came forward with the other foals that had stayed with him; the steel-blue pegasus himself looked appropriately amused as I gave a shy smile at him. “Hi, Archer.”

“Hey there, outsiders.” the buck replied, letting out a chuckle as he looked me over. “I guess I should’ve seen something like that coming.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem really.” I assured him, looking among the foals as they stared back at me with open interest. “Normally I’m good with children back home, but I just wasn’t expecting to be rushed by a small mob of them.”

Archer cocked his head in a shrug. “Sometimes you never see them coming.” he remarked, a statement that I couldn’t help but nod at as I briefly recollected Blake’s pony-pile that he and his friends had pulled on me in Hopeville. “So how are things going around base for you two?” he then asked. “I got the report about your friends heading out just before I left the tower for my break.” 

“Oh, just trying to blend in and help out best we can.” I replied. “After our group reunites, myself and perhaps two or three others will be coming to the meeting later this afternoon about your Marefax expedition. It’ll be our final contribution to Buckley before we return to our own home.” 

“You’re coming along?” Archer asked with a smile. “That’s welcome news, we could definitely use you out there.” 

I cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Aren’t you coming though?” 

“Of course I am. But Marefax is a big place, and a dangerous one.” Archer answered. “We pegasi have more than a few advantages when it comes to combat, and those are advantages that the convoy is going to need when going through the city streets.” 

“Oh… is it really that bad?” 

“It’s a city, outsider. Did you expect otherwise?” he questioned, to which I shook my head after a silent pause. “I’ve already been there, scouted and drawn out the safest routes, and noted all of the hazards. All of that was only a day before you and your friends showed up on our doorstep, and I can tell you that that made for a very long day.”

“You’ve already been there? I thought you weren’t allowed to leave the perimeter…” But when Archer cocked an eyebrow and slowly fanned out his wings, the clean feathers giving a combined shake before they returned to his sides, realization of the evident hit me. “Oh. You’re Buckley’s scout aren’t you?… Duh.” 

Archer nodded with a polite smile. “They’ve got to know what’s out there somehow.”

“Right.” I agreed. “So, what exactly would you need two pegasi out there for, besides the basic overwatch detail?”

“Well, for one thing, the city streets in Marefax are narrow in the downtown sector, and there’s still a lot of intact buildings that can be used as ambush points.” the pegasus stated, though suddenly raising a hoof as he added, “I won’t go into details with the young ones around and about, but I will say that I hope you’ve had some time with that sniper rifle of yours. If you come along, you’ll be using it a lot.” 

“Oh… I see.”

“But right now, I’m taking some time to join the foals here in their recess.” Archer then explained, looking back around at the curious and smiling partial collection of Buckley’s youth behind him. “They have an hour break before their last class of the day.” 

“Archer, can the outsiders play hide and seek with us?” one filly suddenly piped up. 

“Yeah! They gotta play games outside.” an energetic colt added. 

“I’m sure they do, and I think that’s a great idea.” Archer encouragingly replied, looking back at Blake and I and raising an eyebrow in question. “What say you two? Care for a game?” 

“My friends and I play hide and seek all the time back in Hopeville.” Blake chimed with a hopeful smile. “Can we play, Nova?” 

“Hm, hide and seek? Sure, I’d love to.” I replied with a nod and smile back to my brother. 

“Yeah! And then after that, Archer can race the outsider since they both have wings!” a second colt suddenly declared, winning immediate approval from his friends while startling me all the same. 

“Hey, I kind of like that idea.” Archer remarked, locking eyes with me as the unexpected challenge was laid out. “When I get the chance to stop by, the kids always like the little air shows I put on for them, and sometimes I take them into the air on my back. A race, though, is definitely an interesting proposition. What do you think? Are you up for a little challenge, outsider?”

A race? Well now, that would certainly be something new. While I was never one to show off my uniqueness as a pegasus back in Stable 181, racing against Archer would have its benefits, especially if I won. Of course, I’d be able to see just what Archer was capable of in flight, and it’d be a good workout for my wings. My guess was that either way, between a game and this proposed race, I’d win some good reputation amongst Buckley’s younger residents, which was a good thing all on its own. But of course, as a last thought, it might also serve as a way to impress the other pegasus himself, something that I really had no problem with whatsoever. And besides, the way he proposed the questions with that less-than-subtle hint of smug confidence in his voice - the challenge had to be answered, and with a smirk, I rustled my wings. “Okay, Archer. You’re on.”

“Alright! This recess is going to be the awesomest ever!” the second colt cheered, his friends joining him in approval. 

“But remember, hide and seek first.” another filly warned within the group. 

I chuckled at that, Archer doing the same with me. “Yes, hide and seek first.” I agreed.

“And grown-ups have to seek!!” a third colt shouted. 

Archer and I both gave a nod, the pegasus stallion replying, “Yes, and grown-ups have to…” The two of us exchanged surprised looks, the both of us suddenly catching on to the deceiving children. “Hey!” 

But of course, it was already far too late to go back.

***				***				***

“Gunny, eyes on.” 

Looking to the right where Shore walked beside me, I saw him nodding ahead down the highway. Past the remains of a cluster of rusted down passenger wagons and mixed detritus, another pre-war structure stood off of the thoroughfare. It was a small brown edifice of wood and brick, no larger than one of the wasteland’s metal shacks. But the far half of the building had caved in on itself, taking the whole of the roof with it and leaving only three walls standing. Around it, two more crumpled wagons sat side by side next to the building’s west wall, and just visible past those, the corpse of a sand hornet lay full of bullet holes; somepony had been here recently. 

“Grace, your pipbuck picking up anything?” I asked, flicking the safety of the All-Equestrian off and raising the sights to eye level. 

“No.” came her reply from behind me. “E.F.S. is clean. But we must be getting closer. We’ve been seeing evidence of fighting ever since we found that single housing foundation.” And this was the truth of the matter. Though we had started off in silence, with a complete and total lack of buildings or other landmarks on the highway to Marefax, we had begun to come across fresh signs of recent skirmishes - newly dispensed bullet casings at the first foundation of what had once been an old farm house, additional casings and a jammed long rifle (.22LR) inside a large passenger wagon, then a trio of bodies slumped inside a rest stop along the highway. And all the way in between, we came across the occasional casualty laying along the road, freshly killed. The corpses strewn down the path had belonged to ponies not of the Black Blood Raiders or the Talon Legion, but anonymous figures equipped with failing weapons and garbed in pieced-together patchwork armor, ratty and grimy; they had been local raiders, undoubtedly natives of Marefax. 

“We still can’t be sure if Jenny was involved with any of this though.” Shore remarked quietly as we approached the new building. 

“But it’s the best trail we have to follow to find Blossom’s friend.” I countered, signaling for the others to stop as I focused ahead. “Grace, Shore, hang back a second and make sure nothing sneaks up behind us. Blossom, let’s check this building. There may be another clue inside.”

“Okay. Right behind you.” Blossom spoke up, Grace and Shore speaking affirmation as they armed their own weapons. 

Silent as possible, I briskly trotted up to the west wall and passed between it and one of the old wagons, Blossom right on my tail. The north side, the collapsed portion of the structure, was the only entrance, and wasting no time, I stuck along the wall until I reached the corner. In one motion, I swung around and aimed the All-Equestrian inside, passing the barrel left and right and scanning the building’s vectors - all empty. 

“It’s all clear here.” I called, lowering my weapon down as Blossom trotted past me, looking frantically about the brown and rotted walls. Inside, the former roof of the building now made the floor, still relatively flat aside from the occasional jagged piece of tiling jutting from the surface. On the walls, there was hardly any indication as to what exactly this building had once been. There were only a couple of picture frames, cracked and lacking photos, and a tattered paper casing that had once been a map of Marefax itself before being torn hastily from its place, indicated by the label plate that sat slanted along the wall. To the left, a pair of doors led to restrooms that made the building’s east side, and an old metal desk was visible through the debris in the far corner of the main room. But then I spotted something else, a vanilla-colored box bolted to the wall just above the desk, the hatch already opened to show that it had been looted of its contents. But as I spotted it, Blossom was already trotting over the rubble to investigate both it and the desk, and before she pulled up the hatch, she abruptly stopped and looked down at the floor, flinching in surprise at whatever she saw. “Gunny, look!” 

Behind me, Shore and Grace came trotting inside, and I nodded for them to follow as I made my way over the wrecked roof to join Blossom and her search. There, thrown across the floor behind the desk was Blossom’s latest find - shucked and bloodied leather armor with an empty glass bottle resting on its side atop it. “That’s a healing tonic bottle.” Grace remarked from the other side of the desk, her horn flaring with light before the bottle lifted away to her. “And there’s just a small amount of the tonic left inside… still clean.”

With a hum of thought, I stepped up alongside Blossom as she looked over the armor, and I raised a hoof up to the box, pushing up the hatch and closing it shut; the three pink butterflies that greeted me were unmistakable. “It’s a medical box, and it must’ve been just recently looted.” I remarked. 

“What about that armor?” Shore asked. 

“I recognize it. It’s Jenny’s… she still had her own suit of leather armor on when she escaped the radio station.” Blossom replied with worry, dropping it and backing away. “She’s still out there, but she must be hurt. Jenny!!” She called her friend’s name again as she trotted back outside, looking hastily left and right in desperate search. “Jenny!!” 

I exchanged a concerned glance with the others. “We’d better keep moving.” I said, my friends nodding. “We’re closer, but I don’t know how much time we have left.” 

“Right. Let’s go.” Shore agreed, Grace tossing the bottle aside before the three of us left the ruined structure behind. 

“Jenny, where are you?!” 

“Blossom.” I called as I trotted up alongside her. The anxious mare looked back at me, a tear coming down her right cheek as she let out a shaky sigh. “Hey. We’ve got to keep moving north. We’ll find her.” I assured. 

“I’m just so worried.” she replied, shaking her head as she levitated her trail carbine out in front of her, cocking the lever-action.

“We’re close. We’ve just got to keep looking.”

Without further delay, the four of us merged back onto the highway and continued north. The highway, ever since the beginning of the mission, was nothing but a straightaway, one long road connecting the city to the smaller towns that depended on its presence. Throughout our first leg of the trip, we had only set our pace to a walking speed, the better to keep an eye on details and search for clues. But as we got going again, Blossom set a new speed for us, running ahead at a fast trot that the rest of us were forced to keep up with. Through the next several minutes, we continued as such, but with no other buildings or notable locales in sight. Only the highway itself was changing, slowly but surely growing more congested with passenger stages and smaller wagons the farther north we ran; grimly, I noted that the vast majority of them were facing the south, away from Marefax, escaping the city.

Blossom’s quickened pace ultimately paid off, and eventually, another structure begun to loom to the left of the highway, a single large house placed at the top of a shallow rise in the earth with a wrecked barn next to it, the latter broken down almost entirely. “Looks like another farmhouse up ahead, Gunny.” Shore remarked as we briefly slowed. 

“And there’s still a couple of bodies off to the sides of the road that I can see, also recently killed.” Grace put in. “But the evidence of the fighting is becoming less and more distant in between.”

“Yeah, but I can still smell cordite. It’s weak but it’s there.” I replied. “This might be the place. Let’s have a look.” 

Blossom once again took the lead, trotting ahead as I followed up behind her. “Oh, I hope she’s there.” 

Within moments, we closed the distance between us and the suspect farmhouse, and we came to a stop along the hill in front of a compacted cluster of around a half dozen wagons; the house was only a few meters ahead now. “It’s the Shamrock Farmstead according to the icon I just got on my map.” Grace said as I looked over the site, searching for threats. “It’s… hey… my pipbuck screen just went static.” I cocked an eyebrow and looked back around at Grace, watching in puzzlement as she tapped the screen of her computer with her free forehoof. “Oh wait, there we go. Huh, that was strange.” 

“Pipbucks aren’t supposed to do that normally.” Shore remarked with a frown, trotting over to her and looking over the device for himself. “I wonder if the spell matrix is acting up.”

“We don’t have time to fix that right now.” I stated firmly, facing the farmhouse again as I readied my LMG. “We need to look this place over and see if Jenny’s inside.”

“Jenny! Can you hear me?!” Blossom called, taking a step towards the farmhouse as she listened for any kind of response.

After a moment of silence, I asked back, “Gracie, see anything?” 

“No. The compass is still clear of hostiles or friendlies.” she replied with a shake of her head. 

“Well, we still go up there and search anyway.” I insisted. “There might be more evidence of the fighting along this stretch of the highway.” 

“But if the E.F.S. didn’t pick up anything… she might be…” 

I stopped Blossom right there. “Hey. Don’t think like that.” I sharply interrupted. “We’ll find her, and we’ll bring her back.” Though not as confidently as I’d hoped, Blossom gave a hesitant nod to me, looking nervously back up to the farmhouse, carbine at the ready. With a wave of my hoof, I motioned for the others to follow as I begun to ascend the rise. Facing the highway was one side of the house, all of the first floor windows boarded up to prevent seeing whatever might’ve been inside. One by one though, we stacked up along the wall before I led the group to the north side. 

Around the corner was the front entrance, the crusty door of which had fallen off of its hinges to rest on the dirt. A scattering of wooden shards lay around and on top of it with additional scattered litter surrounding it, perhaps part of another fight. With a quick nod to the others, I stepped around the corner with the All-Equestrian levitating just below eye level. I stopped by the left side of the entrance, listening in for any kind of voice or disturbance in the calm… nothing. But then, when I peeked my head into the house itself, my eyes fell upon another clue, the last clue we needed. 

The entrance room of the farmhouse looked like the living room itself, a spacious chamber with a triangular wall dividing it from the back of the house. A staircase built atop that divider wall, making the triangle’s slanted side, led to the second floor, and another doorframe to the far left led to the back rooms. But on the divider wall itself, all four legs spread out and fastened to the wood with chains, was a pony, a violet unicorn mare with a dirty and sweat-matted blue mane. Her head was likewise secured to the wall with a separate chain, her mouth was gagged with a dirty rag, and her torso, likewise chained, was marked with unattended bullet wounds. The wounds were caused by a small-caliber weapon, perhaps only a .22 or a 9mm, judging by their size; despite that though, a small puddle of blood had already formed under her. 

Returning my LMG to its place on my back, I stepped back and away from the entrance. “Everypony, get over here!” 

“What? What is it??” Blossom demanded, hurriedly trotting up to me. 

I looked back at the front entrance, finding that the mare inside was now wide awake, perhaps having already been so. She was looking back at me with frightened eyes, eyes which went wide as they then fell on Blossom. “Oh Goddesses, Jenny!!” The black-maned mare threw aside her carbine in a split moment, making a beeline for the door just as I caught sight of… oh Goddesses!

“WAIT!!!” 

At my shouted command, Blossom came to a startled halt, her left hoof poised over the doorway and about to step down onto the very thing that I had barely found in time. “W-what is it?” she nervously asked, looking back at me with shock.

“Blossom… back up slowly.” I warned, taking a step forward. Hesitantly, she lowered her gaze to the floor, and gasped at the sight of the tripwire, tied to two metal rods hammered into the floor, and strung across the length of the door frame. Slowly, she brought her left hoof back and lowered it to the dirt away from the trap trigger, then backing away as I approached it. Keeping my forehooves at a safe distance away from the device, I hunkered down and analyzed the trap. Already, I saw that a miniscule lever was set to snap back if the tripwire was tugged or pushed, and another cable was wrapped around it. Following the second cord, I traced it up along the near wall where it ended at another switch. One final cable hung high above the floor, connecting that lever to the third and final part of the trap - a black and silver nail gun bolted to the divider wall, the tool pointing straight for Jenny’s head. 

“Oh sweet Celestia.” Blossom shakily breathed.

“It’s alright. I can get this trap down.” I assured, laying flat on my stomach and looking over the tripwire once more. “I just need to think for a second.” 

“I’ll head around the house and search the perimeter.” Shore then declared. “If Gracie’s pipbuck didn’t register Jenny, then others might still be around.” 

That was definitely a possibility, one that quickly formed a tense pit in my stomach. “Good idea. Go ahead, and I’ll let you know when this trap’s down.” I looked back briefly as Shore trotted away behind the west side of the house, Gracie remaining as she set down her saddlebags and begun to sift through her medical equipment; Jenny would definitely need a potion or two. 

Muffled tones from inside the house brought my eyes back to Blossom’s friend, the terrified mare squirming in her tight-fitting bonds as she tried to speak through her gag. “Hang on, Jenny. We’re getting you out of here and back to safety, alright? I just need you to stay calm for me.” The mare nodded as much as the restrictive chain would allow her, and though she tried to speak again, I looked back down to the tripwire, concentrating on disarming the lethal trap; if it went off, Jenny wouldn’t have the second chance she deserved. 

Looking over the trap, I observed that the cord itself was suspended rather high up off of the floor, more likely to catch somepony’s foreleg as a result… and it was then that I got an idea, horn flaring as I brought over my riot shotgun. I removed the drum from the weapon, setting the shotgun aside and bringing the drum clip before me. Then I set it lengthwise along the floor and carefully slid it under the tripwire… no, the drum wasn’t large enough… but one of the All-Equestrian’s magazines might make the table I needed. Reloading the shotgun and holstering it, I brought the LMG forward and unloaded the bigger magazine, bringing it up to the cable as I set the weapon itself on the ground. Cautiously, I set the magazine down on its side, and carefully nudged it under the tripwire. Though the wire grazed the big clip’s surface, it securely rested atop the magazine without springing the trap, giving me the surface I needed to safely access the cable. 

Out came Proudspire’s gift for the first time, the bowie knife Honor hovering before my eyes as I guided the polished steel blade to the cable. For a second, I begun to guide the knife back and forth across the cord, hoping to saw it apart. But only a moment later, I stopped at how much the trap moved to the touch, and I didn’t know how much or how little it would take to trigger the nail gun to fire. Pausing to look over the rig one more time, I nodded as I confirmed my initial thoughts on the trap. The cord was secured to the trap lever in a manner that required the cord to be tugged, snagged on somepony’s lower leg, to pull the levers and thus fire the nail gun. However, if the cable was cut at the center, the trap wouldn’t activate… and it had to be cut directly with a single swing. 

“What are you going to do?” Blossom piped up behind me. 

“I’ve got to cut the cable.” 

“Wait-”

I didn’t, and with one solid swing, Honor came down on the line, the blade cutting cleanly through it and digging into the magazine; both sides of the cable fell to the floor… and the nail gun remained silent. 

“You did it!” Grace cheered, and I only had a second to move both myself and my blade before Blossom charged in through the door. Without hesitation, she raced up to her friend and rose on her hind hooves, balancing herself on the wall with her forehooves before leaning in and vigorously nuzzling the trapped pony along her neck, half-crying as her words of joyous relief poured out to her formerly lost friend; through her gag, I swear I heard Jenny laughing. 

“Blossom, let’s get her down from that wall so Grace can patch her up.” I said with a small smile, sheathing Honor and reloading my LMG as I trotted inside.

“Yeah, yeah sure.” came Blossom’s grateful reply, the happy mare lowering herself to all fours as her horn came alight; she first removed the gag, working her magic to untie the cloth before casting it aside and working on the chain around the trapped mare’s head. 

“Thank Celestia you’re here.” Jenny sighed with great relief. “I never thought I’d see friendly faces again.”

But my attention was drawn away from the ensuing conversation as my eyes passed over the nail gun once again… there was something off about it, the way it was set up. The gun was secured to the wall via thin metal rods that had been hammered into the material, and plastic extensions connected the gun to these bars, supporting the tool’s weight. But then I saw something on the trigger, another cable aside from the one I had just disarmed. This one was not part of the trap, as instead, it trailed along the wall before running to the floor, then snaking up the old wooden stairs to the second story where it disappeared into the upstairs room; it was then and there that the cable was pulled with a sharp yank. 

I snapped my eyes to Blossom to shout my warning, but too late, the nail gun’s trigger clicked. One after another, six nails fired from the tool, and I was witness to each one as they plunged into Jenny’s skull. And as her eyes rolled up into her head, blood welling out around the six spear-like projectiles and trailing down her violet coat, the mare I thought I had rescued went limp in her chains. 

“JENNY!! NOOOO!!” 

Blossom’s cry of utter agonized sorrow ripped my heart in two as a dark and terrible void swiftly filled my very soul. But only a second later, the living room exploded in shrapnel as gunfire erupted from the back rooms of the house, a whole volley of bullets shredding the living room to pieces. I half dove and half stumbled to the floor, Grace pulling Blossom down as she threw herself to the deck, before my horn flared with magic, pulling the All-Equestrian up in front of me. “AMBUSH!! GET OUT OF THE KILL ZONE!! MOVE!!” I cried, mustering as much volume as my voice would allow to speak to the others through the great noise. Beside me, Gracie was crawling towards the exit, but at the same time, was dragging Blossom out with her telekinesis, the crying and cowering mare having already been hit twice in the back near her hindquarters from the initial attack. Rolling onto my back, I raised the All-Equestrian to point at the wall, and opened up to provide cover for Grace. Over and over, I strafed the wall from left to right and back again, hoping to hit our hidden enemy through their own cover. But from the left side, one of those enemies suddenly came rushing out through the opening, a black-armored unicorn pony with a combat shotgun at the ready - he was a Talon soldier.

He and I made eye contact together, and I felt the harsh impact of a slug shell against my left side as his shotgun spoke first. But the All-Equestrian retaliated just after as I directed its spray of lead at the first adversary. The first bullet scored a headshot, but even before the enemy soldier fell, I kept the iron sights on him, the steady stream of shots ripping into him and spraying blood and bits of gore along the wall until the soldier lay in a motionless heap. Already, another soldier took the fallen one’s place, but I kept hold of the trigger, gunning him down before he could even get a shot off with his rifle. But still, enemy fire flew in from the back rooms to further demolish the living room, spraying wood shards and flecks of plaster; I had to get out before the entire thing collapsed on itself!

For a second, I took my eyes away from the house to look outside. Grace was already up and running, dragging Blossom along with her. Shore was with them, plasma and laser lashing out at the right side of the house as he covered their escape. It was my turn to leave, and I hurriedly scrambled to my hooves just as another Talon soldier emerged behind the stairway balcony, a large griffin with a laser rifle sighted in right for me. I wheeled and dove out through the exit, streaks of red striking behind me and charring the floor where I had just stood seconds ago. Two more followed me to the edge of the doorway, barely missing my flanks, but I could only rise and turn back to the house before the same griffin landed with a heavy thud on the floor, facing me head on. It was then that I noticed the long and jagged scar across his right eye, the very same scar that Nova had described to me after the Talon attack on Hopeville; then the scar lengthened as the griffin’s eyes narrowed into an angry glare, and he clamped his beak on the firing bit before him. 

I was forced to dive again, dodging left as the light machinegun on the right side of his custom battle saddle roared to life, tearing a chunk of the wall down as it chased me. Scrabbling back up, I turned my LMG to the house, blind-firing as I wheeled and bolted back for the highway. Even as I ran, a half dozen bullets struck against my armor’s flank plates as well as its left side, the latter of which crumpled and gave as a larger-caliber weapon struck it four times in a line. All four of the shots punched through, armor-piercing rounds that tore right into me, and I staggered from the tremendous wave of pain that followed, losing my pace and toppling the rest of the short distance to the highway. I came to a rough halt on my injured side, the All-Equestrian clattering heavily to a stop on the broken pavement. But I reached out for it again and pulled the weapon close to me, my magic still functioning fully as I fought to ignore the sting of my new wounds. 

“Gunny! Over here!” Shore was nearby, he and the others having taken cover behind one of the passenger wagons on the road. Beside him, Grace was firing back at the farmhouse with her revolver, and even Blossom, completely ignoring her own wounds and tears, was putting up fire with her trail carbine. 

With a growl, I staggered up to all fours, unable to take a single step before more shots from the hilltop kicked up dirt and bits of pavement around my forelegs. The armor protecting my right side intercepted two more shots before I forced myself to gallop to cover, lunging forward and falling into place by Shore as the four of us ducked back down. “How many did you kill?!” I called to Shore, the metal of the chariot deflecting enemy fire for the time being. 

“None!” came his reply. “They were all hiding in the back rooms and a couple troops blew out the boarded up windows to engage me! There must be at least half a dozen more in there!” 

“Grenades!!” 

At Gracie’s shouted warning, I snapped my focus back up, catching sight of five metal apples arcing through the air and dropping towards us. As one, Grace and I telekinetically intercepted the grenades mid-flight, catching them before launching them back to the farmhouse where they exploded all together. At the sound of the detonation, I stepped out of cover and took aim, seeing as the combined power of the blast completely blew out the front of the first floor of the house, causing the rest of the foundation to crack and split from the front to the back. Like added gunfire to the firefight, the already rotted boards of the first floor snapped and broke down, and with a groan under the weight of the second story, the house came crashing down to the ground, the tiled roof caving in before the structure became nothing more than a pile of rubble. But still five Talon soldiers remained outside of the debris pile, still putting fire downrange at us with assault rifles and carbines, and the griffin was nowhere on the ground…

I snapped my eyes up and right, scouting the sky behind my iron sights and spotting the target just as he dived in for a strafing run. Together we fired, and I scored a hit, causing his own trail of shots to carve into the street to my right as he was knocked off course. Just after, return fire from the hill forced me back to cover behind the chariot, but I still kept my eyes on the griffin as he circled back around, swinging back for another pass at us. With the others focused on repelling the squad on the hill, I had to keep that griffin from getting a good angle of approach to hit us, or from strafing us in general… and getting him out of the air was the best way to do that. 

On his second pass, he leveled out over the highway, coming in low above the ground and pouring on the speed as he followed the path of the road towards us. His lower altitude provided the best opportunity, and with an effort, I willed myself into a gallop, racing head on for the approaching enemy flier. Just as he fired, his LMG coming to life again, I threw my own weapon aside and sprung, jumping straight for the top of a box-shaped chariot and sticking the landing. And then, momentum sustained as the griffin’s trail of fire tailed me, I leapt high, launching right into the griffin’s flight path. His speed prevented him from evading in time, and the distance closed in an instant as he smashed into me, the two of us crashing into the pavement together. I came to a stop in the dirt just after the griffin plowed into a third wagon. Quickly, I pulled myself up, ignoring the spread of the pain in my body as I whipped out my riot shotgun; I couldn’t let the griffin back into the air. 

But my opponent had no intention of doing so, swinging around out of cover behind the wagon and biting down on his firing bit. This time, the black assault carbine on his saddle’s left side came to life, two shots absorbed by my armor’s chest plate before I leapt for cover, putting return fire downrange with three buckshot shells before skidding behind a fourth overturned passenger wagon. The griffin continued firing, the carbine peppering my cover and the majority of the shots punching through the deteriorating wagon entirely. Thinking fast, I continued forward, coming out of cover on the opposite side of the wagon and catching the griffin by surprise as I fired off another two buckshot shells, both of them pounding the griffin’s heavily armored chest before he dove back to his own cover. 

With time to move, I galloped forward towards the griffin’s own barricade, coming around the right side and finding the griffin just as he turned to face me. Quicker than I would’ve thought, he barreled forward and rammed into me full force, knocking my riot shotgun aside before both of his clawed forepaws latched to my shoulders. His sharp talons dug through the armored padding as he tried to bring me to the ground, and I smashed my own forehooves back against his chest to halt his momentum, the two of us now locked in a battle of raw physical strength. In an attempt to trip up my balance, the big griffin briefly pulled back before driving himself forward again, a solid shove that my injured body struggled to absorb. But still I kept my position as we locked back together, and in response, I gathered my strength and shoved with a growl, all my muscles working to gain the upper hoof. To my satisfaction, I felt as the griffin gave a step of ground, backing under my own strength, and it was all I needed to hook my left foreleg along his side and throw him down to the dirt. 

But just as quick as before, the untiring griffin swung up with his left paw and delivered a jolting punch to my chest, sending me staggering back and into the wagon. I kept my hooves under me as I recovered from the dull momentary shock, and as the griffin quickly stood back up and faced me, my magic reached for my sidearm, the .44 magnum revolver snapping up in front of me as I took aim. With a single bound, the griffin leapt to the left as I fired my first shot, the bullet punching through another wagon farther behind him. He wasn’t out of sight from his first leap, and I snapped the pistol to the right to follow him, firing another shot that went wide. But then he was on me, leaping forward and lashing out with his right paw, and I didn’t dodge in time before his claws carved across the left side of my face. 

With a cry of pain, my magic faltered and dropped the sidearm as I staggered back, already feeling tendrils of blood running freely down my cheek and neck. With my eyes closed out of reaction to the terrible burn from the quartet of gashes, my only instinct was to dodge, and I sprang to my right, hearing as a more powerful weapon went off just in front of me. I wasn’t hit, and with the adrenaline still flowing, I forced my eyes open, seeing the griffin just to my left with a pearl-white five-cylinder revolver gripped in his right claws, already pointing straight for me. I was too far away from him to react in time before he pulled the trigger, and the revolver fired with a powerful crack of sound, the high-caliber round jerking me back as it drilled into my chest plate. Still, somehow, the armor held the bullet back, sparing me another wound, and I threw myself in another leap to cover as a second shot passed right by my left side. 

In the short time behind safety I had, my horn flared up again as I reached for my last weapon, Honor silently sliding from its sheath as I readied the blade to stab. Then, through my peripheral sight, I spotted the griffin’s head to my left, and with a cry I spun and swung the knife. I missed my stab, the blade slamming into the old wagon as the griffin ducked under and backed away. With a yank, the knife easily ripped free and I charged again. In front of me, the griffin rose up to his hind legs, using his left claws to strike at me again. This time I dodged his attack, the miss giving me enough time to close the distance and slash again. The bowie knife caught, slicing through a chunk of his own armor’s padding before the griffin fell to all fours again. But before I could get another swing in, the griffin suddenly jerked forward and head butted me, an alarming and painful strike that sent me stumbling back. And then, before I could recover, he lurched, and his left claws hooked under and up, delivering a heavy uppercut to my jaw that knocked me off my hooves and sent me to the ground on my left side. 

Dazed and out of focus, the pain that I had been suppressing by sheer willpower through the whole of the fight came rushing back all at once, breaking through the fortitude I had left to keep it at bay. With a grunt of pain, I only managed to roll onto my back, seeing the griffin staring down at me with a focused but cold glare. Though I had managed to score hits of my own, I bitterly realized that though the griffin looked to be tiring, even if only slightly, he had sustained no major injuries during the entire fight, his armor and skill both efficiently protecting him from all of my attacks. And me… I couldn’t fight anymore. My left side was cramping up, the muscles burning painfully from the four armor-piercing rounds still lodged inside. I couldn’t get my left legs to cooperate outside of the dose of adrenaline I had been fighting with, and after all of that, this griffin had disarmed me of every weapon I had. I had nothing left to use...... if he wanted to kill me now, I was at his mercy.

“I figured that I’d end up seeing one of you here.” the griffin spoke after a breath, tone dark and hateful. “But I was hoping to find Nova herself, not her fucking friends.”

“She… told me about you.” I angrily replied through my own heavy breathing. “What the hell do you want from her?” 

“That’s not your business.” the griffin growled in answer, stalking towards me. “What is your business now is that you’re going to send her a message for me. I know that you’re one of her closest friends, so she’ll listen to my words through you.”

“Fuck you!” 

In response to my defiance, the griffin’s revolver snapped back up to aim at me before he pulled the trigger, and I cried in agony as a shot tore clean through my left hind leg. Only a split moment later, and his left claws clamped down on my throat, crushing my vocal cords and keeping me from clutching at the wound. “You’re tough, I’ll give you that. But you should know when you’re beaten.” the griffin snarled, forcing me to look him in his harsh brown eyes. “You will tell your pegasus friend that I bested you today. You will tell her that I am still on the hunt for her, and that she has nowhere to hide from me. And lastly, you will tell Nova my name.” The griffin paused then, still glaring down at me as he holstered his revolver, fanning out his wings. Then, “I am Blackhawk, and I’m coming for her.” With that, he released his hold around my throat, and I took in a ragged breath and grunted at the torturous pain coming from my leg. But as I felt a gust of wind, my eyes were drawn back to the griffin, to Blackhawk, as his large wings beat to lift him into the air. And then he was off, winging away to the north towards Marefax and leaving me, his newest defeated opponent, lying in the dust. 

“Gunny!” The familiar voice of Gracie took my eyes away from the sky, and rolling onto my uninjured side, I spotted the medical mare as she trotted out between two of the wagons on the highway, then finding me just a moment later. “Are you okay??” I could only cough in response as she came running up to me, skidding to a halt and already setting her saddlebags to the ground next to her. “Hang on, Gunny. You’re going to be okay.” 

As she went to finding the needed medicine to fix me up, I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice again to ask the only question on my mind. But before I could, I felt as Grace begun undoing the armor on my left side, swiftly undoing the side-guards and removing the bloodied plate to expose the bullet wounds I had taken there. “Grace…” I managed to speak, catching the frantic mare’s attention as she paused in her work. “Where’s Blossom?” 

“She’s with Shore. She made it, Shore too. We killed the others.” she assured with a comforting smile. “Only that griffin got away.”

But I only sighed in response, closing my eyes. “… I had her, Grace… damn it, I had her…” 

Jenny.

Gracie slowly shook her head, smile fading to a sad frown. “Gunny…” 

“I killed the trap… and she talked. She talked to us, Gracie!”

“Shhhh…” My friend ran a gentle hoof through my mane, shaking her head again as she looked me in the eye. “You did everything you could, Gunny.” 

I shook my head, Grace lifting her hoof away. “I had her… and then that second cable… I should’ve seen it…” For a moment, Gracie only looked at me, sympathy in her eyes, before she somberly turned back to my wounds, dampening a clean rag with a bottle of water and levitating it, a pair of tweezers, and a roll of medical tape to the first of the four bullet holes. I didn’t feel a thing as Grace worked… I couldn’t feel anything other than that terrible void, that creeping emptiness.

Jenny… I had her… I was so close… and I’d failed…

***				***				***

Wind.

The two of us flashed by over Buckley’s cemetery at the northeast corner of the base as we cut around the next turn in a sharp arc. Both Archer and I leveled out on the straightaway, following the shape of Buckley’s perimeter fence down below. But not even six seconds later, the next corner of the improvised race course rushed forward to meet us, and the two of us hooked the turn nearly at a ninety-degree angle before picking up the speed as we raced along the west side of the base; all the while, the cool wind was whipping at my face and my mane. 

Racing Archer required the fullest effort and the greatest power that my will and my wings could muster, and even then, Buckley’s scout pegasus was always a pony’s length ahead of me. There was no denying that Archer was a well-trained and potent flier, and though he was roughly the same age as I myself was, maybe only a year or so older, he had been born and raised on the surface, thus having many years to hone his flight skill in a vast and open environment; this was his greatest advantage, but I was certainly giving him a run for his caps. In moments, we sped by over the crowd of cheering children, urging both of us forward as we entered the final lap of our three-lap race. As we cleared the hangers, rising in altitude and approaching the ATC tower, I tapped into what energy I had been saving from the beginning, adding that extra mental drive and kicking up the pace of my wing beats, allowing me to pick up even more speed. Slowly, I begun to close the distance between myself and my rival as the top of the tower flew by us, and we lowered our altitude together to draw level with the roof of the next building - Buckley’s club building. 

The both of us nearly skimmed the rooftop with our hooves as we flew on by, and then the next turn was rapidly upon us, the rush of our passage taking us to the southwest corner of the base before we both turned hard left. In front of me, not even half a pony’s length ahead, Archer followed the turn precisely, leveling himself in a blink and pouring on the speed as I gave chase. On the perimeter’s north straightaway, Archer was beginning to gain more distance again, even as I strained for even greater speed. But then, I saw as the steel-blue pegasus jolted in the air, as if he had missed a step in some process; he had! 

The next turn was already upon us, and as I hooked to the left to follow the ninety-degree corner of the perimeter, Archer took the turn too wide, drifting out beyond the fence long enough for me to pass him before he launched back onto the designated track. Now I was ahead, and with a triumphant laugh, I made myself as level as possible, craning my neck out straight and tucking my forelegs back along my chest to limit the wind resistance to a minimum. Now, straight as a dagger, I quickly regained the speed I lost on the corner and pushed onward, passing over the concert hall and blazing by the first cluster of shacks and residences. Though I didn’t dare look behind me, I knew that Archer was hot on my trail, and the thought pushed my mind into gear, keeping me focused on the upcoming turn; I didn’t want to recreate the mistake that Archer had made.

The cemetery behind the church building was coming up fast, and my peripheral vision didn’t see Archer coming up for a pass. Having passed this same turn twice, I was able to count in seconds my time to approach… four… three… two… one… I leaned left and snapped through the turn, a perfect execution as I merged onto the north perimeter. Like before, the straightaway brought the next turn in seconds, and one last time, I pulled through the northwest corner and onto the home stretch - the farthest hanger from me was the finish line. Again, I urged myself forward, wings aching from scooping at the air and throwing me forward against the currents. But then, passing over the first hanger, Archer came into my view, not from my right or my left, but from below me. He was pulling ahead inch by inch, wings beating in stronger and measured strokes against the air, flying straight as a bullet as we launched over the second hanger. And then the finish line flashed by as we passed one final time over the children that made our audience. Even from our place high above, I could hear their excited cheering, and the two of us slowed together as we circled around at a much more leisurely pace for our landing. 

Down below, Blake was already waiting for me, standing just outside the majority of the group, and as I hovered in he gave an energetic wave. “You flew fast!” he called up to me. “Real fast!” 

I landed before my little brother with a smile, gratefully tucking in my worn out wings as I gave him a quick hug. “It was definitely fast… and windy.” I replied with a light laugh. “But Archer was faster.” 

“But not by much, outsider.” the pegasus buck retorted from my left, likewise smiling as the Buckley children around him celebrated his victory. “That wasn’t bad. That wasn’t too bad at all.” 

Oh great… even after a friendly competition I was blushing at the handsome stallion; he’d complimented me! “Aw. Thanks.”

“Hey, I mean it. But if I might suggest something, perhaps you’d consider some training while you’re here.” he added, making his way through the crowd to step up to me face-to-face. 

“You mean, train with you?” I inquired curiously.

“Of course.” Archer answered proudly. “I’ve helped train Buckley’s security forces as an assistant to Tracer many times. If you’d like, I can give you some tips and advice about flight, how to find the best currents, how to balance the energy you’re putting into your flight. I could even go as far as to improve your marksponyship both in the air and on the ground, and I could also show you a thing or two about unarmed combat. That was a fun race we had there, so if you’d like to train, you have but to ask.” 

Oh my. That was definitely enticing, and for more reasons that just getting the training. As I thought it over, I was reminded that Archer had lived his whole life on the surface, possessing far more experience than I with combat, and even just open flying. Professionally speaking, getting the advice of a seasoned flier like Archer would definitely improve my own skill set, as I was plenty certain that he had valuable information and top-notch tactics to share. If nothing else, it’d serve to improve my own odds of survival and my contributions to the preservation of Hopeville, and that was what was most important, even if I’d get a little extra eye-candy along the way. “Sure. I’d love to.” 

Then, “SANDY!”

The sharp and angry shout of a female voice sounded clear even over the chattering children, and both Archer and I turned back towards the southeast corner of the munitions hanger. The source was a golden-brown mare with a steel-grey mane and tail, trotting hurriedly over to us with nothing but a furious glare directed to one of the children in particular. The child in question, a brown-orange filly with a light grey mane and tail, came slinking out of the crowd, hunkered low to the ground with ears pinned back as the livid mare approached. “M-mom…” 

“Why aren’t you in class, Sandy?!” the mare demanded, snapping up a hoof to jab at me as she added, “And what in the hell are you doing in the presence of these outsiders?! Explain yourself!” 

“W-we’re on recess… a-and Archer met us with t-the outsiders. A-and… and…” My eyes widened as the young filly spoke, and I felt a surging anger of my own as I saw that she was literally shaking under her mother’s crushing glare.

“Ma’am, I assure you on behalf of the leadership that there’s been no trouble with these outsiders ever since their arrival.” Archer then interjected, calmly approaching the fuming parent. “When the children came out for recess, I met them for a game of hide and seek, and we then met the outsiders as they left from meeting with Olli. All we did was play a game, and then the outsider and I raced each other for the amusement of the young ones. That was all.” 

But then the mare turned on Archer, directing her full fury to him instead of her daughter. “I don’t give a damn what happened! I will not have my child anywhere near these outsiders as long as Mother Shimmer in her ‘wisdom’ keeps them here! And honestly, I don’t trust you around her either! You’re not one of us no matter what you do for us!” Archer made no response to that, only standing calm and taking the blow as the hot-headed mare continued, “Tell Mother Shimmer that these outsiders need to stay away from our foals and the school, period. And furthermore, tell her that they should be staying away from our music halls. They’re not safe around these wastelanders.”

Goddesses, lady! 

“I’ll be sure to direct your concerns to my superiors, ma’am.” Archer politely responded, bowing his head.

“Well, direct this to your superiors as well.” she replied, trotting over to the cowering Sandy and roughly nudging her away from the group of children. “One of these days, at least one of these newcomers is going to show his or her true self, and Buckley’s going to pay the price if something isn’t done about them. Mark my words, Archer.” The angry mother spoke his name with venom.

“Consider them marked, ma’am.” the pegasus assured with a nod. “I’ll let you be on your way. I have to get these kids back to class.” 

With a snort, the mare nudged Sandy ahead of her as the two begun to trot away. But briefly, she turned back around once again, this time staring right back at me. “And as for you, outsider, you and that little waster colt of yours better stay away from my daughter.” she darkly warned. “And better yet, you should leave Buckley entirely, and you should take all of your friends and your troubles with you. Leave us out of your wasteland, because we don’t need it here.” There were so many things I could’ve spoken then, anything from ‘I’m sorry’, to ‘fuck off’, to anything in between. But I followed Archer’s example and remained silent, Blake too, as the mare and her child disappeared around the corner of the munitions hanger. 

Her fiery outburst left all of the children with us in silence, only hesitant whispers eventually being passed about as Archer trotted back up to me. “Hey, I’m sorry about all that.”

“No, Archer. It’s okay.” I replied with a shake of my head. “In a community as big as this… well, it’s not too surprising that some ponies out there still wouldn’t trust us, even if Mother Shimmer already has.”

“Yes, but I should’ve seen it coming.” he insisted. “I could’ve avoided putting you into a situation like what we just had there.” 

“It’s not your fault, so don’t worry.” I assured with a thin smile. 

“Well, do me a favor and keep in mind that many of the citizens here trust you and your friends now, and they’ll trust you all fully once you come with us on this upcoming trip to Marefax.” Archer explained, then turning and trotting back to the foals behind him. “So just don’t let this get to you too much alright?” 

I nodded. “Don’t worry. And hey, I’ll get back to you on that training offer later today, too.” 

He smiled. “Sounds good, Nova. I’ll see you around.” 

Multiple farewells came from the children as Archer led them back to the schoolhouse, goodbyes that Blake and I willingly returned as we headed out to the opposite side of the air base. With the trading now complete, our game of hide and seek energizing and fun, and my race with Archer placing a tolerable ache in my wings, the two of us headed for the church. Throughout the entire time between now and our first splitting up, Raemor had not reappeared outside, and it had already been well over an hour since he had dismissed himself to the church to pray. 

“Nova, what was that about?” Blake asked as we trotted into the median between the twin runways. “Did we do something wrong?” 

Looking down, I saw him wearing a look of both puzzlement and hurt, a face that made me downcast in turn. Blake had been having fun for the first time on this base when we had been invited to join in that game of hide and seek, and it had served as a great step on his recovery from the dark emotional print that Buckley’s rain of death had left on him. But having that marred by the distrust of one mare, who as far as I could tell was as harsh as a mother as she was in her social life, was frustrating, circumstances be damned. “No, we didn’t do anything wrong, Blake.” I assured, flashing an encouraging smile. 

“Then why did that pony yell and stuff?” he then asked. “Why did she take Sandy away?” 

Sandy had been the first foal to personally introduce herself to Blake, and when he had been elected to seek later into our game, the brown-orange filly had volunteered to join him. “She didn’t want her around us.” I gently answered. “And that’s only because she hasn’t come to accept our being here yet.”

Blake snorted in disbelief. “Really? Even after all that you and the others did for them?” 

“Well, you can’t just make somepony like you.” I responded with a toss of my mane. “Trust is always earned, and for some ponies to trust you, you have to work even harder than you already have. It depends on how protective or accepting they are.” 

“That sounds stupid to me.” Blake huffed as we crossed onto the second runway, passing by the entrance bunker to the underground garden and water talisman. “Everypony in the Stable trusts each other.”

“Yes, but remember that we’re dealing with strangers, little brother.” I stated in reply. “Unlike Proudspire, who needed our help and openly accepted us, Buckley is a self-sufficient community that doesn’t need Challenger’s caravans to survive. That’s the main reason why we haven’t been fully accepted here yet.” 

“Yeah… I just wish she didn’t yell at Sandy.”

“Well, me too.” I replied with a nod. “But that’s not something that I can explain.” 

As we crossed over the second airstrip, we were coming up to Buckley’s church. The building that had previously been denied to me on our arrival here was only around half the size of the generator facility that neighbored it, albeit standing roughly a full story taller. Like before, the church was under guard, with two of Buckley’s soldiers flanking the closed double doors that led inside, as well as three additional guards patrolling around the perimeter. Because of its height, I found it interesting that the building itself lacked windows nearer the top, with clear rectangular windows only lining the lower half of the building at close intervals; the rest of the structure was, to put it simply, a giant concrete box. To the left, near the perimeter fence, was another one of Buckley’s howitzer teams, the mighty gun currently facing up and out to the north to guard the base from threats that attempted to attack from the northeast corner. And just beyond the church, I caught a glimpse of the edge of the settlement’s cemetery, the improvised wood and metal crosses and gravestones marking the final resting place of Buckley ponies come and gone. 

“Welcome to the church, outsiders.” one of the patrolling guards called from up ahead. A heavily armored unicorn buck had stopped on his route by the front entrance as we approached, clipping his light machinegun to his armor as he added, “Mother Shimmer gave the green light, so you and your little one are free to enter. Your friend who came by earlier hasn’t left yet, so he’s inside if you’re looking for him.”

“Yes I am. Thank you.” I replied with a polite smile. 

“Sure. Just keep in mind that like the concert hall and the club building, the church is our most treasured site on base.” the guardspony warned, stepping aside to let us to the entrance. “We won’t confiscate your weapons, but mind your behavior in there.”

“You have my word that I intend no harm to a place like this. I’m actually a little curious about your church myself.” I responded as Blake and I trotted on by. 

“It’s the most peaceful sanctuary you’ll find, outsider.” the guard explained, and I craned my head around to see the buck as he smiled a thin yet reminiscent smile. “And that’s because Celestia and Luna are with you in there, and are with you always. Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” I replied, bowing my head before facing front. With horns alight in magic, the two unicorn guards flanking the double doors pulled down the handles and pushed the doors inward, motioning for Blake and I to enter. And when we did, I was at a loss for words at the sight I beheld. 

In an enclosure of smooth and undamaged grey stone rested Buckley’s holy sanctuary. Between two rows of spaced ornamental stone pillars and calmly burning oil lamps on polished wood tables was a carpeted aisle, a single thin mat of patterned red, orange, gold, blue, black, and silver that rolled through the very center of the church to the opposite end of the building. To either side of the aisle, raised stone platforms set in seven horizontal rows made improvised benches for worshippers to sit, roughly a third of these seats currently occupied by residents and off-duty guardsponies. This seating arrangement stretched only halfway along the floor, leaving a wide open area that made the back half of the church. Like the aisle, the back of the church was carpeted, the aisle mat bridging the entrance to a large square carpet of the same color array and design that connected to the far side of the church, where two large statues of shining bronze stood facing the entrance. They were replicated sculptures of Celestia and Luna themselves, Celestia to the right and the smaller Luna to the left, both bathed in yellow-orange candlelight as they stood poised and dignified, mighty wings outstretched as they stared forward with calm faces and unblinking yet powerful eyes. Above both of the statues were their respective cutie marks, the sun and the moon carved into the stone itself, and set evenly between them, perfectly preserved, was an Old World Equestrian national flag - Celestia’s sun set against a pure red background. Under the flag, set on the floor between the bronze statues, was a fountain of stone, flowing with clean and untainted water that sparkled in the firelight. And directly before the statues, set on wooden tables draped with clean white cloth, were two stone carvings of the Goddesses’ cutie marks, making small alters for worship and prayer. 

All around the church, oil lamps and candles cast gentle flames across the entirety of the building. Even a chandelier of untarnished silver hung low from the flat ceiling, positioned over the very center of the church with each of its eight ends carrying a burning candle. But most stunning of all was not what the church was made of, but was instead the ponies within. At the far right corner of the building, an array of pedestals arranged into four separate levels (lowest at the front and highest at the back) held a total collection of around forty or fifty mares and stallions standing side by side. Earth ponies took up the front row, the shortest of the four, while unicorns stood on the other three levels, and all of them were singing together from their individual copies of black leather songbooks, their voices combined into one to create the purest and most divine sound I had ever heard... music truly suited for the Goddesses themselves. 

With my ears filled with the soft and flowing melody of the church choir, I stepped hoof onto the carpet, silky to the touch, before the doors gently closed behind me. Slowly, Blake and I walked down the aisle towards the twin alters, and still there was more to see. To my left, directly opposite of the choir, five unicorn mares in glimmering silk dresses of gold and white lay on their bellies side by side, lounging atop blankets draped on a tall, rectangular stone platform. All of them lay relaxed with their eyes closed as they faced the choir, but their horns were alight with magic, occasionally flickering as they sustained whatever spell they were casting together. Though it took me a moment, I found that at various spots in the church, particularly by the windows, bright beautiful rays of glittering light were shining out and striking the floor, almost representing rays of natural sunlight. Aside from the magical glow pouring in from the windows, I noticed other light sources that glowed without candle or oil. These small spheres of white radiance were scattered along the upper half of the walls, stopping just under a breathtaking sheet of flowing gold light that concealed the building’s natural concrete ceiling. More of these star-like spheres were hovering opposite of the pillars flanking the aisle, and others still illuminated the choir itself; this was truly a holy place if I ever did see one.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” 

“Huh?” Tearing myself away from my stupor, I looked back down the aisle, finding a single unicorn mare garbed in a long brown robe as she cast a calm and easy smile at me; she had a yellow coat with a green mane and tail, her head and tail the only parts of her not concealed by her clothing.

“The church.” she clarified, turning and walking over to me. “It’s truly a place of peace and beauty is it not?”

I nodded back to the mare. “Yes, it really is beautiful.” I answered sincerely. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

The mare looked pleased with my answer. “If you think this is something, you should visit again in the night. I’ve been a priestess of the church for three years now, and still it takes my breath away. The Light Weavers truly create spectacles to behold.”

“Is that who those ponies there are?” Blake asked curiously, pointing a hoof at the five seemingly napping unicorn mares to the left.

“Indeed, child.” the priestess replied. “Their unique talent is to create art with magical light and illusions. While to some that may seem mediocre and useless, to all of Buckley, it is a thing of great beauty, and one of the many forms of art, just like the music sheltered here.”

I shook my head as I bathed in my own personal amazement. “I would’ve never believed that this place existed if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“Ah,” the priestess responded in realization. “you’re among the outsiders who have come to us recently.” Smiling, she added, “Blessings of Celestia and Luna upon you both. I’m Fiona, and I welcome you to our holy sanctuary.” 

I bowed my head low in respect to the priestess. “It’s an honor to be allowed to see your church. It really is quite something.” 

“Thank you. But truthfully, everypony in Buckley, outsider or no, should not be restricted from worship should they wish to do so. This is where we all come when we need guidance in our lives from the Goddesses, rulers of the Old World Equestria.” Fiona explained, a calm sort of pride lining her voice. “They may not exist in flesh today as they once did so many years ago, but they are still with us in spirit, and always will be until we finally meet them in the everafter.” With a light chuckle, the priestess turned around back towards the alters. “But my guess is that you are here for your friend.” she added, nodding to the bronze statues. “He’s still here, praying to Celestia’s alter. He must have really wished for council to have been there for as long as he has already.”

When I looked, I recognized Raemor where he sat on his haunches before the sun sculpture in front of Celestia’s statue. Except now, all of his armor and weapons had been removed, and his toned copper-colored back, with its rather startling amount of visible scars, was facing us as the old unicorn continued to pray. “I was coming to check up on him, just to see how he was doing.” I replied to Fiona, the priestess giving a nod in turn.

“Then I’ll leave you to your affairs.” she replied. “Please feel free to pray at the alters, listen to the choir, adore the lights, or do all of them at once. If you need anything, just let me know.” 

With a smile, the priestess trotted off to the left where another one of the church’s visitors had waved her over, and turning to the alters, I walked down the rest of the aisle and crossed into the spacious portion of the church. Raemor was sitting with his head bowed down, eyes closed as his lips moved in words I couldn’t hear. As Blake joined me, I held a hoof out for him to wait, and I kept a respectable distance between myself and my elderly friend as he continued to speak. However, it was only a short time later that he finished, falling into complete stillness for a moment as he let his prayer settle in. Then, with a slight nod, his horn flickered to life with green light, and I saw as he telekinetically lifted a jeweled trinket before his closed eyes. The pendant had been previously hidden against his chest, and from my place nearby, I could see most of the details. It was a flat and circular medallion, black like obsidian with a trio of jewels set at the center in a horizontal line. The jewel on the far left was clear as glass, the middle jewel a bright green, with the gemstone on the far right a mild pink. 

Slowly, Raemor brought the treasure to his lips, opening his eyes as he placed a gentle kiss on its surface. As I watched, he held the medallion there for a long moment, even closing his eyes again before he broke his embrace and let the medallion fall back against his scar-covered chest. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he’d even notice me where I stood nearby, and when he looked back up to the bronze Celestia, I was about to call for him, despite how much I didn’t want to interrupt his meditation. But then, “Do you need something of me?” 

The old unicorn swung his eyes around to look at me, startling me momentarily before I recomposed myself. “I’m sorry… I hope I’m not bothering you.” I explained. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. You’ve been in here for a long time.” 

“In this place, this shrine of worship, we are in the presence of the Goddesses. You can feel their eyes looking down upon us in here, their voices providing council and guidance, their spirits - care and compassion.” Raemor replied, facing the alter once again. “I needed this, to be able to speak to them again. And since I don’t know when we will be leaving, I wanted to spend some time here before the chance was lost to me.” 

As I listened, I trotted over to Raemor’s left side, likewise facing the alter before I gingerly sat down beside him, Blake sitting down next to me. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between us as the atmosphere of the church settled in. The soothing and passionate voices of the choir, the flickering of the candles and the creations of the Light Weavers, the alters… as I sat there, my eyes were drawn once again to the bronze statues. “You know, when I was younger, I never really prayed to Celestia or Luna.” I said. “I knew about them because of what I learned in my classes back in the Stable, and I knew all about their time of rule both before and during the war. But unless I was in a boatload of trouble, or unless I was swearing… I hardly ever talked about them, let alone prayed to them or asked for their protection.”

“But you have, though.” came Raemor’s reply. 

“Only when my parents died. And then back in Plainwell when the Talon Legion took it over and killed everypony.” 

Raemor looked up at Celestia’s statue with me. “Celestia and Luna are not Goddesses of anger, jealousy, and vengeance. In spirit, they are still who they were so long ago before and during the war. And even though the conflict changed them, too, in the end they still cared very deeply for their nation and the ponies under its banner. It’s my belief that they still do to this day.”

“Many ponies out there in the wastes would say otherwise.” I replied with care.

“Indeed.” Raemor nodded. “Many suffer in one way or another in this new Equestria, a land filled with misery, and they have no room for faith as a result. Sometimes we come to ask how faith in the ghosts of pre-war leaders could bring about any benefit to our lives, any purpose or meaning. I think that keeping a tie between yourself and the Goddesses is an important way to provide you with something to find solace in, something outside of the mortal world to lean upon in times of strife, even if it’s a last option. That, and I think it helps to keep us anchored towards our goals.”

“What do you mean by that?” I inquired. “Like something to fight for?” 

“Yes and no.” the copper stallion answered. “More than anything else, I think it provides strength, motivation, and courage without reaching a point of recklessness. It has its own value, so long as you are willing to believe in it and keep it close, even after the most trying of circumstances.”

I looked back up at the statues again as I let his words sink in, trading glances between Celestia and Luna. I could relate those words to my own experiences, and they were easily most compatible with the passing of my parents. After that fateful day, I hadn’t spoken more than three full sentences to Celestia or Luna while I focused on my own objectives. Like Raemor had said, there was really no time to think of it with all that my time on the surface had thrown at me, and in truth, I had not made prayer and faith in Old World faces a priority of any kind; nor was it even something that I really wanted or felt that I needed. But still, Raemor’s opinion on faith in the Goddesses was something to think upon. Two weeks and two days into my total time on the surface world, and I knew that I’d need every asset I could find to keep me going in the right direction, both in regard to my objectives and in the preservation of my virtues… whatever they were. 

But this brought along with it another question. “Have you ever lost the faith you carry now?” 

“Many times.” he answered. “And I only recently returned to my former faith in the Goddesses of old. This time though, I may have done so a bit too late for my own good, especially since the years are starting to catch up to me.”

“But all you’ve got is a graying mane.” I teased with a small smile. 

“Hm. I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that, Nova.” came his amused reply. Then he looked back at me again. “But I suppose that what I’m trying to say is that if I were to give you any advice of my own, it would be to keep the Goddesses as close to you as possible. I know that it sounds… well, to say it simply, I may be full of shit… but as I’ve sat here in this refuge, I’ve come to understand again what the words I’ve spoken to you meant to me long ago.”

“I don’t think you’re full of nonsense. Honestly, I think that this is something to consider looking into myself, something to spend some time getting in touch with.” I replied, smiling encouragingly. “With the way I carry on about virtue and doing the right thing sometimes, what’s there to lose?” 

“Well, you don’t carry on about virtue. You and your friends, you all live by it. There is a difference.” Raemor remarked with a chuckle. “But in regards to what you said, I think it a good idea on your part to touch base with the Goddesses. With life in the wasteland as it is, we all go through periods of darkness. In such times, the Goddesses are ponies we can turn to and confide in, just like the friends we stand with here and now.” Yeah, I liked the way that sounded. But as I nodded my agreement, the old stallion faced the alter once more, saying, “Close your eyes, both of you, and relax. I’ll speak a prayer for us while we’re here together.” 

“Oh… okay.” Though momentarily caught off-guard, Blake looking equally so, I gave a nod and let my eyes fall shut as I rolled my shoulders, easing into a state of calm as I faced the statues.

Then, I felt Raemor’s hoof on my back, and after a deep breath, he spoke, “Blessed Goddesses, full of grace, watch over our fellowship and guide our steps. Give each of us strength on the roads we walk and let us never forget of you as you stand beside us. In your names, we pray that your wings spread over Hopeville and keep it safe, to let it grow and prosper both by the efforts of the Stable Dwellers who have been forced to rebuild and by your own blessings. And as you have always done in the past and present, grant us your compassion so that we know that no matter what comes to pass, your light is always shining in whatever darkness threatens to cross our path. In your name, Celestia, the sun, and Luna, the moon, we pray.” 

Silence followed Raemor’s prayer, and as his hoof lifted off of my back, a little shiver passed through me as I opened my eyes. In the wake of his words, I felt… I felt at peace, calm yet empowered. It was akin to how I felt when I imagined my parents at my side; I just… felt good. “Wow. Now I know what you mean when you talked about feeling their presence in this church.” I remarked, looking between Raemor and Blake, seeing my little brother smiling in approval with me. 

“For me, praying is meditation, and it is a source of great comfort for mind and body alike.” Raemor explained. “Many times throughout my years, it has helped me pass through another day in the wasteland. And today, it has helped me considerably.”

As I listened to my old friend, I picked up a shift of tone in his voice. Whether or not he had intended for me to discover it, the somber quality of tone that his last few words adopted, nearly hidden in his speech, was easily identifiable to me. “How did it help you today?” I asked gently. “What did you pray for?”

The old buck hummed, glancing side-long back at me before facing the alter. “Would you believe me if I told you that I was dying?”  

Well, that took a turn for the dark in a hurry. “What do you mean by that?” I asked back concernedly, half-startled that something like that would even come from Raemor’s mouth. “You still fight, you’re not crippled… I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

He slowly nodded. “Yes. Though I’m old, I’m not yet physically broken to the point of uselessness. But as I’m sure you know, there is more than one way that a pony can grow weaker. For some, it is bearing witness to and being part of many battles. And for others, it’s remembering things.”

“Are you talking about Hoofington?” 

“Hoofington and the time after.” Raemor explained, then letting out a sigh. “Of my birthplace, I hold very few pleasant memories. When I left for good, it was a place I vowed to never see again.”

“You’ve kind of skirted along the subject of that place before, and I’ve heard before about what it’s like today… but what was it really like, you know, when you were there?” I asked. 

There was a long moment of silence as the buck continued to stare at the alter, sifting through his thoughts. Then, “Hoofington was a dark place, seemingly cursed at times. From a distance, it appears as an array of towers, black as night, that rise up into the clouds… the cloud cover keeps the region dark at all times. The center of the city, The Core, glows a never-fading green, and nopony I know has ever entered it, as a network of pre-war defenses kills anypony who might get too close.” As I listened, I remembered Hallion talking about that part of the city once. But hearing it from Raemor, who had actually grown up there, made it sound much more genuine. “And as if that wasn’t enough, the city has it’s own unique danger, something that, as I came to learn, is called enervation. It kills anypony who comes in contact with it, but it cannot be seen or heard. It plagues the downtown area and the suburbs in pockets, keeps many from exploring too far into its depths. I was born and raised in the outskirts of the downtown ring, in a small settlement that my tribe established and called Dawngate. It was nestled no more than half a mile from the barrier that triggered the city defenses.”

“So you were part of a tribe?” 

“That’s right.” Raemor nodded. “It was a tribe of worshippers to Celestia and Luna, and both my mother and father were very devout outside of the battlefield, often praying to the Goddesses for safety, luck, and prosperity as everypony in the tribe did. But at the same time, our tribe was also adept in both firearm and melee combat, and we had cleaved our way through a number of lesser tribes in our everlasting hunt for resources. We were called the Dawn Warriors, and were one of dozens of tribes and gangs in the city. Closest to us, there was the Strikers, the Tunnel Clan, The Pack, and the Black Blood Gang. Beyond them were other powerful factions like the Highlanders and the Serpent Tribe-”

“Wait a second…” I interrupted with a start. “Did you say Black Blood?… As in…”

“Yes, as in the very same group that is at war with this region.” Raemor elaborated. “The Black Blood Raiders, before they expanded, were once just a simple tribe that originated from Hoofington. During my foalhood and my years growing up, they were one of Dawngate’s most prominent enemy factions, known for their black and red armor and their savagery in combat, just as they are now. They were the destroyers of tribes, well-armed and thick in numbers. We had encountered and battled with them on many occasions, just like all of our neighbors… and it was this constant warfare that I grew up with… But it was also that tribal warfare that wore us down over the years.”

“I think I know where this is going…” I remarked forlornly 

“Then I don’t need to explain it to you.” came Raemor’s bitter reply. “My parents sent me out of Dawngate when our tribe was near collapse. It only took one more merciless attack from The Pack to wipe out the tribe and our home completely, and my parents along with them. I was a young stallion then, and I had to live out on my own for another year afterwards before I found or bought better weapons, ample munitions and food supplies. Then I left the city behind for good.” The old buck sighed again. “I don’t like talking about that place. There’s too much there that I wish not to remember.”

I frowned, a prick of guilt tugging at me. “I’m sorry, Raemor. I thought being here with you would present a good time for me to know more about you… but I shouldn’t have pried.” 

“Well, we may not be the best of friends,” he replied, swinging his gaze back to me. “but we have traveled together for a length of time. And besides, you know loss as I do, and so we have something strong in common, even if it’s not the best of similarities.” 

“Yeah…”

Again, the atmosphere of the church took over as I instinctively reached for my brother and pulled him close, feeling him as he nuzzled up against my chest. “But after that, things got better right?” Blake suddenly asked, looking at Raemor from his place against me. 

A faint smile formed on Raemor’s face. “Yes, things did get better.” he replied. “I worked as a gun for hire when I first entered the heartland region, escorting and protecting caravans and travelers on the way to their destinations. Between the heartland cities and the Trottingham region, I had carried out many successful jobs and failed none of them. That was Hoofington’s one true gift to me - combat skill.” 

“How long did you work as a mercenary?” I inquired. 

“For many years.” Raemor replied. “The job kept me sustained and paid, because the price in return for my protection was simply enough food to make my next meal or enough ammo to provide my weapon with another clip. Once I was settled into the routine, I more or less had a life that I could call decently peaceful.” He paused here, long enough that I saw his smile grow - it was both reminiscent yet genuinely happy. “And then, after so many years, I found Harmony.” 

“You’re home outside Hoofington?” I asked, smiling with him. 

“Yes. A small town in the ruins of the south Manehattan suburbs, built from the ground up like Challenger. For me, it was truly a blessed place.”

“Tell me about it.” I encouraged. 

Raemor happily hummed as he adjusted himself on the carpet. “Well, it was a very simple place. It was a settlement built on the backs and efforts of some of the most perceptive foragers, ponies who always knew where to find the best items, be it food and water, weapons and ammo, building materials… Harmony was built on flat terrain, a wide patch of land that was miraculously gifted with tall, dry grass that stood about as high as my chest. Past the grass and through the gate at the south end were two rows of two-story metal houses, twelve each, that ran parallel from south to north. There was a wide dirt lane that divided them, leading straight to the market at the north end where all kinds of heartland merchants and scavengers made stops to trade and sell. The entire village had no more than… fifty or sixty ponies living in it at any one time, and it was enclosed with a simple chain-link fence. There were multiple latch gates built into it so citizens could go outside anytime they chose to do so.” The old buck continued to beam, the noticeable tide of good memories coming back to him making his growing smile contagious. “Harmony was graced with a constant breeze, gentle and cool to the touch, caressing the grass and always refreshing. And the day and night were spaced with rain showers. The children would always admire the lightning and cheer at the thunder, then play in the puddles in the morning, splash some of the merchants walking by.” Both of us shared a laugh at that. “It was the perfect place to settle down, and they took me in as an extra guard to patrol the perimeter or escort the merchants when they came into sight. There were hardly any threats to it either, only the occasional manticore, bloodwing, or small raider group passing close enough to the town to engage. All in all, it was a rather quiet settlement, a place of peace, a chance for ponies to live longer, happier, grow older. 

“That’s a good home.” I complimented.

“It truly was.” Raemor agreed heartily. “And it was such for one reason over all the others. Harmony was where I met my wife.” 

From the back of the church, the doors suddenly burst open, a loud jolt of sound that brought our pleasant talk to a screaming halt. When I looked, I saw a single guardspony standing at the entrance, looking quickly from side to side as he fought to regain his breath, his chest heaving as though he had just sprinted a great distance… if all the way across Buckley, then he had. 

But then he spotted the three of us, jabbing a hoof at us as he called, “Outsiders. Archer needs you at the main gate. He says it’s urgent.”