//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: Revenge 
// by Teq 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 5


Wraith and I both finished what food we wanted for our breakfast and I left a subtle hint to the chef pony to get some marmalade. I made the hint in the form of a loud statement about how much I loved marmalade and how disappointed I was that there was a distinct lack of it. He’d shot me a cold stare and immediately went back to serving the rest of the ponies in the queue. I’m telling you, if there’s no marmalade on that counter tomorrow morning then I’m filing a complaint with the head of catering.

Outside it was now looking like more of a normal day, and by that I mean it was a sensible waking time. Pretty much all of the LRSA personnel were awake by this time and some of the refugees (but most of them were still in their pits). Black clad LRSA ponies were trotting, jogging and galloping all over the campus, doing all of the necessary jobs that kept them running. A Private walked past pushing a cart of laundry towards a small hut that was likely where the washing took place whilst a Sergeant sprinted past with three more Privates in tow, headed in the general direction of the main gate. I felt the urge to pull my weight and do something. What I really wanted was a chance to mix amongst the soldiers and see if I could learn anything that could be useful to me. Wraith was having a similar idea.

I stopped to speak to a Private who trotted past, putting a hoof on his shoulder to attract his attention. He stopped and gave me a look of contempt, “Was? Was wünschen Sie?”
“Come on, I know you speak English.” He snorted and nodded with a derisive look painted over his muzzle. “So, do you have any jobs that need done around here? Anything we can help with?”
He shrugged, “I do not know. Ask an officer.” Note to self; never ask anything from a Private.
“Okay, I’ll do that.” He snorted again and resumed his casual trot, not going anywhere in particular. It made me laugh how he’d been so curt with me despite his apparent lack of objective.

Officers in the LRSA proved hard to find unless they were stopping you at check points. Most of them tended to hide themselves away in the central complex doing administrative work. The only officers we were liable to find were field officers or those in charge of supervision. Wraith and I collectively decided that it would be sensible to check by the main gate as we assumed there would be one stationed there. We made our way in the direction of the entrance, passing various other refugees milling around or playing games and LRSA personnel going about their business. I was rather impressed as a stallion with a very heavy looking machine gun around his neck walked past with a few boxes of ammunition at his sides like saddlebags and a belt across his chest. He was very large and quite intimidating and I was pleased that he was on our side and not the Scavengers. Although the Scavengers likely had plenty of these brutes of their own.

As we turned the corner that took us to the gate I walked right into a black suited stallion. He stumbled backwards and I stumbled forwards with him, righting myself before I fell. He managed to maintain his balance as well and immediately went to straighten his uniform and fix the peaked cap on his head. The stallion was a young officer with a soft face and kind eyes. He was only a second lieutenant in rank so he was inexperienced and relatively new. I immediately apologised in an attempt to save myself from a bollocking but he waved it off, “No, no, the fault is mine for not paying attention. Can I help you?”
I exhaled in relief, “It’s so nice to hear a friendly voice. Usually officers around these parts will take any opportunity to shout at me.”
“Shouting is the job of the NCOs. Officers should do the disciplinary work whilst the NCOs do the scaring. Anyway, can I help you?”
“Yes, actually. My companion and I,” Wraith snorted and I cringed. “Were looking for jobs to do. Really it’s a case of can we help you?”

The officer placed a hoof to his muzzle and furrowed his brow in thought. It took him a few moments to actually say something.
“What are your skills?”
“I can stitch fabric.”
“I can fix weapons,” Wraith added. The officer thought for a few moments.
“We are in desperate need of a good sewer. Some of our uniforms are getting pretty worn out. We have quite a few armourers of our own though. Can you do anything else?”
“I can shoot.”
“Really? Would you be interested in joining our ranks? There’s a recruiting officer in the main building.”
“No.”
“Oh. Okay then, well I suppose you could help out on the ranges if you like. I warn you that unless you’re a member of the LRSA you won’t get any pay.” I smiled.
“That’s okay, the only thing we want to earn is our keep.”
“Well that’s good to hear. If you want to head to the laundry hut you can ask some of the ponies there if they want anything repaired. And if you want to head over to the range you could help ponies to shoot better or something like that.”

We both thanked the officer for the advice and he went to leave. I stopped him just as he walked past us. I asked his name. He chuckled and pointed to his name tag, “I’m Otto. I work in intelligence. If there’s anything else you need, just ask somepony around and they’ll tell you where to find me. Auf Wiedersehen!”
“Yea, yea. Thanks.” He lowered his head and went back to his stroll. I glanced up at Wraith. “It’s nice to see a friendly face for once. Somepony who doesn’t want to splatter our brains out.”
“I’m going to the range,” Wraith turned about and headed towards the rifle ranges. I watched him go, remaining motionless until he was blocked from my view by a group of LRSA soldiers on a jog. I sighed to myself as I made my way towards what I assumed was the laundry hut.

There were no guards posted outside this building. Inside were two ponies (both Privates), one operating the machinery that cleaned all of the uniforms, the other folding and sorting them so that they could be returned to their respective owners. They were very pleased to hear that I was willing to help them and they provided me with a needle and thread and a box of fabric that they said was used to make their clothing. It was a lightweight material that was kind of like cotton and handled in a similar fashion. I found cotton to be a very easy material to work with and one of the Privates provided me with a stack of uniforms that needed mending. I set about my work, not paying too much attention, thinking more about Wraith. He seemed very offended by what I’d said; him being my companion. Was it just the term he didn’t like? Maybe I should refer to him not as a companion but as a friend? Or maybe he wanted me to call him something like teacher or mentor? Or maybe it was the exact opposite, maybe he thought that after all we’d been through he deserved to be called more than that. What did he want me to do? If he was trying to drop subtle hints he was being a little too subtle for me.

I picked up the next uniform in the pile. I’d done three so far, all of which simply needed a quick touch up to try and remove scuff marks from the elbows, but this next uniform was different. It had a line of small holes running all the way across the torso from the right hip to the left shoulder. I turned it around. The holes on the back were significantly larger than those on the front, “What happened to this?”
“Machinegun fire. Poor colt didn’t even know what hit him.”
“You just recycle old uniforms?”
“We don’t have the resources to make more and getting them shipped here is a waste of valuable fuel and manpower. My own uniform has a large hole in the side where a sniper’s bullet has passed through it,” he showed me where the hole had been patched over. “Last colt to own that one was young, I’d say seventeen at the most.”
I turned the uniform over again. The bullets must have punched right through the soldier’s ballistic armour, then right through him, then right out the back. He’d only been seventeen. He was two years younger than me and he’d been cut down before he’d had a real taste of the world. He was just a colt. He didn’t deserve to die. Did he die knowing that he was fighting a losing battle, or was he delirious from propaganda and died in a vain attempt to save the day? Either way, nopony that young should have to die on a battlefield.

I put the uniform down. I couldn’t bring myself to do any more. I wasn’t going to fix this uniform knowing that some other young colt would only wear it and die too. I thanked the Privates for their time and left without a backwards glance. I had to act. There was no way I was going to sit by and let this murder continue indefinitely. If I was going to die I’d rather die attempting to make a difference, with a pistol in one hoof and a knife in the other. Wraith and I had to speak to the officer in charge. We had to gain access to that central building.

I found Wraith on the rifle range, teaching a young stallion how to hold a rifle properly. I could tell he was getting rather frustrated from the way he ran his hoof through his mane every time the stallion did something wrong. The stallion wore a loose black shirt with the sleeves rolled up halfway and was holding a hunting rifle in his hooves in a very awkward position. Wraith unslung his own rifle and showed the stallion the proper technique, then demonstrated a suitable firing stance. I interrupted their training session just as the stallion asked, “Can’t I just stand how I want? What difference does it make?”
“Whether you shoot well or whether you shoot poorly, that’s what difference it makes!”
“Yeah, but it just seems so impractical, ya know? I mean, can I just stand like this? It’s so much more comfortable.”
“No, you can’t stand like that because the recoil will knock you over! Do you know anything about firearms beyond ‘bang’?” I thought this would be a good opportunity to interject and I hastily apologised to the stallion before pulling Wraith aside. He silently fumed before turning to me. “These ponies are unteachable! They don’t have the necessary respect for their weapons needed to master the art of shooting. What do you want?”
“We have to talk to the commanding officer. We need to get out of here.”
“Why, are the Scavengers coming?”
“No, but I can’t just sit here and let the LRSA do all the work. They’re slow and it takes too long for them to get anything done. I think they’d rather sit here and wait for the Scavengers to attack than do anything about them.” Wraith nodded in agreement.
“I concur, and I can’t stand to be around this lot for one minute longer than I have to.”
“So we speak to the commander tomorrow morning?”
“Yes. We say it is urgent. That we have important information or something. Anything to get us out of here.”

I nodded and turned to leave Wraith with his new student. He almost yelled in annoyance as the stallion asked what I assumed was another stupid question and I afforded myself a small smile. I spent the rest of my afternoon cleaning my Glock as Wraith had taught me to, ensuring that all of the parts were working properly and that it wasn’t going to give up on me when I needed it. I hastily wolfed down my dinner, which consisted of more bread (and no more marmalade) and some form of oat meal that almost made me sick to look at. Night came around soon after and most of the refugees were back in the barracks, and most of the LRSA personnel were preparing for sentry or getting ready for a night’s rest. I had originally planned to spend the remaining time I had in the barracks reading, but the noise drove me away. I had a mild headache and the last thing I needed was the noise of foals screaming all around me. Instead I had taken refuge in the rifle range, sitting on the bench and gazing up at the stars. It was too dark for reading and I was enjoying the peace and quiet.

I leaned back and sighed. My body felt worn out from everything it had been put through. The memories of my old life seemed distant, despite the fact it had been just more than a week since I’d been forced away; since the Scavengers changed my life forever. It hadn’t all been hard knocks and heartbreak though. I’d met Wraith, and Mystery, and Eagle. I’d discovered more about myself than I wanted to know and I’d learnt many new things, forcing myself to adapt. I’d done things, seen things that no pony should have to. I’d taken lives. For some reason I wished that I’d never been born. All I knew was struggle. Death and despair seemed to follow me like a plague. It was like I was cursed. I glanced left, I glanced right. I was completely alone.

I subtly snaked a hoof down to my legs. Cut me some slack, I was a horny nineteen year old who’d known nothing but trauma for the past week, I needed something I could enjoy. I flinched slightly, surprised by how sensitive I was to my own touch. I kind of played around a little trying to conjure up some image that I could use, trying to draw on my recent experiences for inspiration. Then I heard a voice to my right, “There you are.” I yelped in immediate panic, snapping my hoof back to my side and clamping my legs together, a deep blush appearing on my face. I looked to see who it was that had disturbed me in the deeply personal moment and saw Wraith standing at the entrance to the range. I exhaled deeply and relaxed my shoulders slightly.
“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death.”
“Sorry. I just wanted to know where you were.”
“I’m right here. Why, is something wrong? Has somepony asked to see me?”
“No. You weren’t in the barracks. I wanted to know that you were safe.”
“Yea, yea I’m fine,” I sighed to myself. I was silently willing Wraith to go away and leave me alone, but then I said. “Wait, are you implying that I can’t take care of myself? I’ll have you know that I’ve spent the majority of my life catering for myself and I don’t need you to constantly be looking out for me! The NSA molly coddled me enough. I don’t want you to do so as well. Jeeze, I can’t get a minutes peace!” In hindsight that was a bit of an overreaction but Wraith had interrupted a rather intimate moment and I wasn’t best pleased. Wraith looked down at the floor.
“Sorry. I’ll go.”
“Wait. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just a little stressed out at the moment and I kinda wanted some along time for once.”
“That’s okay. I understand.”

Wraith turned to leave and when he was out of view I tried to return to my fantasies but found that I couldn’t bring me self to summon up the energy. Frustrated, I yelled quietly to myself and picked myself up, slowly walking back to the barracks before they closed it and I was locked out. Few ponies were around at this time, and the only ones I did meet were LRSA personnel. I passed a group of stallions armed with submachine guns donning a strange type of uniform that made them look like bushes and a set of goggles that looked like binoculars but with green lenses. There were no lights in the compound and anypony still awake by this point had to navigate by vision were possible, and memory were it was not.

When I got back to the barracks the guards were just about to close up and I managed to slip in past them and get to my bunk before they locked the doors. To my amazement some of the ponies here were already sleeping. I couldn’t sleep. I simply lay on my bed, wide awake if anything but with a throbbing headache. Looks like Wraiths surprise had made it worse. I would have laid thinking but my painful head made that impossible, so I just lay there like a fish, not doing or thinking of anything in particular, just waiting to fall asleep.

As is the general cycle, morning came a few hours later. I’d fallen asleep eventually and must have slept for a good few hours, but it felt like I’d just woken up from a five minute doze. It was substantially later than the time I usually woke at (I’d have gauged the time to be about nine o’clock) and I didn’t feel much like dragging myself out of my bunk. However, today was important and I needed to get ready. Today Wraith and I confronted the encampment’s commanding officer about further plans. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do. Originally I was spurred on by the fear of being killed, raped and tortured by Scavengers but it had been a while since I’d seen the dreaded khaki uniform (I hadn’t delved into my saddlebags for the entirety of our stay so I hadn’t even seen Wraith’s) and fear of being captured was what seemed like a distant memory. Just another reason to get back into the fray. There were ponies out there, innocent ponies who just wanted a quiet life, who were being brutally murdered or kidnapped by these savages and I couldn’t sit by on my arse and watch it go on from behind a chain link fence and a cohort of machineguns.

I debated whether or not to wear my belt and decided to just settle for throwing it over my back. I fixed my hat on my head and made my move for the door. I passed a mirror on the way and caught a glimpse of myself as I walked past. Then I back peddled furiously to get a better look. The last time I looked in a mirror my clothes were fresh, my mane and tale were neatly brushed and my fur was well washed, glistening I dare say. As I stared back into my reflection I struggled to accept that it was me I was looking at. My mane was a mess of hair like I’d never seen. The style was the same but odd tufts stuck out and it was a little more bedraggled. My fur was dirty, covered in sand, mud and blood and my clothes were likewise stained. There was even a tear in my pullover that I hadn’t noticed before. The lack of a shower had really taken its toll on me. I also reminded myself how I hadn’t washed my clothes in over a week, or even taken them off for that matter. I immediately felt filthy and made a mental note to dive into the first stream, lake, river, reservoir, fountain, puddle or sink I came across.

The sun was a little duller than it had been in previous days and the air was much cooler, with a slight cold breeze beginning to pick up from the west. I glanced over at the horizon and noticed a large mass of miserable grey clouds looming. Typical that the day I chose to leave was the day that the weather decided it wanted to piss in my face. I half walked half trudged my way to the mess hall and sat down with my toast (still not done right and still without marmalade) and slowly crunched on it. I made a quick mental checklist of all the things Wraith and I needed. We still had plenty of food left over from the Wanderers (who had been pretty generous); we would have to get our ammunition back from the LRSA and water was beginning to run short so that would need replenishing. I couldn’t bring to mind anything else we could possibly need.

I began to seriously consider putting butter on my toast to give it some form of flavour (I actually hated butter with a passion, hence my reluctance) when Wraith joined me. I looked up at him, “Where have you been?”
“About.”
“Thanks. How infallibly useful.”
“You’re a little grumpy. Cheer yourself up before we speak to the commandant.”
“Can I be grumpy until then?”  It wasn’t that I was pissed off with Wraith, it was a combination of various things. For a start I was getting restless. On top of that I was tired (apparently the longer I sleep the worse I feel) and to top everything off Wraith had interrupted a very private moment last night and I wasn’t ready to fully forgive him for that.
“I suppose I can’t stop you.”
“No. When did you want to have this chat?”
“As soon as possible. I want to get out of here. I don’t like being surrounded by all these soldiers who’d likely shoot me on the spot if they knew where I came from. I want to get out of here soon.”
“I agree. Is there anything you desperately need that we don’t already have?”
“No.”
“Good, because I wasn’t readily prepared to get it for you.”

When I again finished my breakfast and made my anything but subtle complaint about the lack of marmalade (not for my sake but for the sake of everypony that had to eat this tasteless bread without the sweet flavours of the appropriate topping) I put my belt on properly and did my best to make myself look vaguely presentable. This basically consisted of straightening my hat again and not much else. Wraith and I made the short trip to the entrance of the main tower. The door was doubled, with two very stern looking guards outside (and I could have sworn I’d seen a sniper up on the top of the tower looking down on us). The guards didn’t look in any position to let us in but we needed to talk with the commanding officer so I was prepared to do almost anything (the key word here is almost) to get us in.

“Hello fine sirs.”
“Go away.” A good start. They were evidently very friendly. I’d already given Wraith prior warning to the fact that I was going to try and use manipulation to get past them, and that he shouldn’t interrupt me. The key to manipulation is to find a weakness and exploit it. For Wraith all I had to do was pick up on the fact that he found me annoying. These guards though would likely be a tougher nut to crack.
“We want to speak to your commanding officer.”
“Has he sent for you?”
“No.”
“Then go away.” I frowned. I was beginning to very strongly dislike this pony’s attitude. He was a muscular earth pony armed with a large shotgun and holding the rank of Sergeant. I looked over at his friend, who hadn’t even glanced in our direction so far. He was considerably younger, ranking only as a Private and was armed with the standard issue assault rifle of the LRSA. I called over to him.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He still refused to move. This guy was pretty good at the whole ‘stand here and don’t move thing’ although I think he took it a little too literally for his own good. I studied his physique and his general aura. He was quite lanky and looked maybe a year older than me. His uniform was perfect (as in literally there wasn’t a fault in it) and his rifle was spotlessly clean, as was his helmet. I averted my gaze from the rather steely Sergeant and sauntered over to the young Private. “So, how long have you been here?” He refused to respond. I swear if this little bastard didn’t move at some point I was going to punch him in the face, then see how he responded. The Sergeant coughed.
“You may speak freely, Private.” The Private merely nodded.
“Yes Sergeant. I’ve been here for two years. I signed up four years ago though. I was stationed in Leipzig before being transferred here.”

I raised an eyebrow. Is that so? I smiled to myself. I now had information that I could use to get under his skin. Hopefully I could come up with something that would convince him to let us in. I cleared my throat, “So, you’ve come here all the way from Germany?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have family there?”
“Just my mother. My father left when I was young.”
“Mine too,” this was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “I bet you miss your mother.”
“Yes, but I write to her.”
“Does she write back?” The Private cleared his throat before continuing. A sure sign that I was beginning to get somewhere.
“Um… No.”
“Mmm, shame that. Mine doesn’t either. I keep writing but she never responds. I know where she is, but I don’t have the resources to visit her, see? I was looking to speak to your commandant to see if I could requisition some supplies for a journey. I won’t take long, I promise. Maybe when you’re on leave we could get together at some point?”
“Uuh, I… I guess.”
“So, are you going to let me in?” I made sure to turn slightly to one side when I asked this, giving a quick flick of the tail which had the effect of attracting attention to my rear. I could see the stallion swallow quietly. I knew how to get my way with colts.
“I… uh… I’m not supposed to let you in without consent from my Sergeant.” The Sergeant groaned.
“Let them in. I’m sick of listening to her.”

I gave an internal whoop of joy and smiled to myself as the evidently quite flustered stallion tapped a rather long password into a panel next to the door. I heard a buzz and then a click and the stallion pushed the door open. Wraith entered first, without even a nod in either direction, and I quickly followed suit, making sure to give another quick flick of my tail as I walked past. It served me no real benefit now that I’d already achieved my goal but I just liked to mess with stallions. They were so easy to manipulate it was almost laughable, particularly young ones.

The doors closed behind us and I paid attention to my new surroundings. The room we were in was fairly large, with a well polished floor, white walls and a few doors leading off into various side rooms. There were noticed boards pinned up all over the walls with various messages and memoirs tacked to them. The door directly ahead had a plate on it, reading ‘Leutnant Karl Blitzen, Verwaltung’. I hadn’t a clue what it meant but I assumed it was an officer and I assumed it was someone I needed to talk to so I knocked on the door and waited for a response. After a few moments I heard the officer call, “Jawohl?” I pushed open the door and peeped in. The officer was leaning back in his chair and staring at me as if expecting me to say something. He wasn’t dressed in the usual dark uniforms of the LRSA but was instead wearing a metallic grey uniform and instead of silver rank stripes he had gold. He continued to stare at me and I stared back. I gulped.
“Hi?”
“Was ist los?”
“No, I don’t speak German. Can you speak English?”
“Civilians are not allowed in the central tower. Who let you in and why?”
“We want to speak to the commandant.”
“Why?”
“We have information about nearby Scavenger movements that could be of great importance.” The officer removed his peaked cap and stroked back his mane. I could tell he was pondering what I’d just said and silently debating whether or not he should tell me where to go. Ultimately he replaced his cap on his head and nodded.
“Okay, if you go through the door on your right you will find a stairwell. Go up until you reach the very top and then tell the guards what you told me. I’ll telephone ahead and let them know you are coming.”

I thanked him and closed his door. I gestured to Wraith that we should go and he nodded, following me as I pushed open the door to the stairwell and began to climb. By the time I reached the top my legs were aching. It was deceptively higher than it looked and the stairs seemed to go on forever. I pushed open a door into a large room that was similar to the one below but smaller and with fewer extra doors. There was a door that lead to what I assumed was a balcony, a door that was sign posted but in German not English, so I had no idea what it was. The only remaining door was dead ahead with another two guard ponies standing outside. These were both Sergeants in ranks and both armed with shotguns. They also were dressed in the drab grey I’d seen on the officer on the first floor and I assumed that that was the uniform of the ponies in the central tower. The door had a plate on it like the one below which read ‘Oberstleutnant Jürgen Fetlok, Kommandant’. I was preparing to flaunt my ass for the guards again but they recognised us as the ponies who’d been referenced by the lieutenant below and let us in with little argument. I nodded as I entered and was quite impressed by the layout of the room.

The centre piece of the room was a large wooden desk, upon which were pens, paper and various other items of stationery. There were a few paintings adorning the walls and several rows of filing cabinets along the back. There was a German flag draped across the front of the desk with a name plate that was almost identical to the one on the door except in the form of a prism perched on top. The pony behind the desk looked fairly experienced and wore the same grey uniform (which I was beginning to think was a little boring) but seemed to present himself with an air of superiority which annoyed me greatly. The most interesting part of the room, however, was how the mutants cradle on his desk click clacked from side to side. Kind of puts into perspective how neat and orderly (and uninteresting) the rest of the room was. The officer looked up from some riveting looking paperwork in order to address us, “Guten Tag. I am Lieutenant Colonel Fetlok. Please sit down.” I accepted the invitation and to my surprise so did Wraith. This was actually the first time he’d accepted a seat from anypony.

The Lieutenant Colonel clacked his hooves together in thought, mimicking almost the noise of the mutants cradle which still dominated my attention. Eventually he said, “My Lieutenant warned me of your arrival. He said you have information on Scavenger movements. Is this so?”
“No,” I immediately replied.
“Yes,” Wraith replied immediately after me. The officer looked from me to Wraith, with a vaguely confused look on his face. Wraith stared blankly at the officer. I stared with interest at the mutants cradle. The officer coughed.
“Who do I believe?”
“We have information on possible Scavenger movements in the area. See, we recently escaped from the Scavengers and they are liable to be hunting us. If they follow a logical path then they will end up here like we did. I recommend that…”
“I don’t need you to recommend me anything. Need I remind you who the Lieutenant Colonel is here?” Wraith silenced himself, the loathing in his eyes capable of boiling water. “You recently escaped? How?” This was when I chimed in.
“Wraith infiltrated their ranks, stole a uniform, freed me from the cell and we both high tailed it out of the place.” The officer stared at me sceptically. I could tell he didn’t believe my story.

After several awkward minutes of silence the officer coughed again, “A day or two ago, my operator received a transmission from one of our forward sentries stating that two extra refugees were headed our way. They also warned us that one of them was a Scavenger. Moments later you two arrived. Now that could just be coincidence, but I don’t think so. One of you is a Scavenger. Who?” Shit. I’d forgotten about radios and their ability to convey long distance information. I tried to think of something clever to say that would get us out of having to answer him but Wraith spoke up first.
“Me. I’m a Scavenger.” The officer furrowed his brow.
“You are brave to admit to such a thing. Your kind are the lowest forms of pony kind this planet has ever seen, other than the Nazis.” That had to sting. “We don’t tolerate Scavengers. My soldiers have been keeping close watch on both of you. They are getting restless and if I were you I would consider leaving.” I brightened up at that.
“That’s actually what we wanted to do. Do you have any suggestions as to where we can go to from here? Anywhere that may be more willing to shelter us?”
“You may try visiting the Wanderer town of Refuge. If they live up to their namesake then they’d likely be willing to take you in. However, reaching it will either require you to make a very large trek through some heavily forested areas or travel straight through Scavenger territory. Not that you’d mind that of course. There have also been reports of sightings of Factory personnel in the area.”

I nodded to myself. That sounded like the sort of place we needed to go, but I was not overjoyed at the mention of ‘Scavenger territory’ or ‘Factory personnel’. Both were very bad news, “How long would it take us to reach Refuge if we travelled through the forest?”
“At a good pace, I’d say a week or two.”
“And if we went through Scavenger territory?”
“You’d probably manage it in about three days, given that you don’t run into any Scavengers on your journey.” Well, it was like being between a rock and a hard place. One route would take us weeks of perilous journeying; the other would take us days of even more perilous journeying. I had a quiet conversation with Wraith about which course of action we should take. In the end, despite my protests, we decided on making the journey through Scavenger land and hoped to get lucky. As Wraith very rightly pointed out, we didn’t have enough supplies for a week long journey.

We concluded our meeting by asking where we could refill our canteens and reclaim the weapons and ammunition confiscated from us. The officer directed us to the armoury, where we would be guided to a room filled with weapons and ammunition confiscated from refugees, where we could reclaim our lost ammunition. As for canteen refills, he suggested we just went to the mess hall. I thanked him (although I wasn’t very thankful at all) and Wraith and I left the room. I was looking forward to turning my back on the place. The LRSA routine didn’t sit well with me and I didn’t like being constantly surrounded by Germans who thought they were better than me.

Half way down the stairs, however, who should I run into but Arno, the stallion who worked in comms that had tried to hit on me. I almost ran headlong into him and nearly knocked him down the stairs. He righted himself and straightened his uniform, “Careful. You could have killed me!”
“Get out of my way, Arno, I’m busy.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” He asked, putting himself defiantly between me and the remainder of the stairs. I swear, I wanted to buck this guy in the face.
“Arno, get out of my way. This is important.”
“Hardly. What could you be doing that’s so important? I’m fairly certain my work is more important than yours.”
“Arno, I swear, get out of my way or I’m going to make sure you fall down every one of the remaining stairs. If your work is so important then how can you afford to stop and block my path?” The stallion did nothing but shrug. That was it, I’d had enough. I let an aura encase my horn with a massive surge of energy I flung Arno against a wall as he cried, “Donner und Blitzen!” He hit the wall with a thud and groaned. I ran past him down the stairs and had I been able to I would have made a very disrespectful sign. Wraith followed close behind me.

I skidded on the floor of the main lobby and ran headlong into the door, which failed to open. I ended up hitting it hard with a loud thunk that knocked me backwards onto my rump. The Lieutenant in the room behind me opened the door and looked out, calling something in German. At the same time the doors slid open as the Private poked a concerned looking face into the hall. I stood up, fixed my hat and gave him a coy wink as I walked past. Wraith gave him a look that would have killed him were it able to. I groaned in frustration, “I can’t take any more of this. We need to go. These LRSA ponies are going to drive me to insanity.” I would actually go so far as saying that my time with the Scavengers was more pleasant. At least in the cell I had Mystery to talk to and I was left alone most of the time.

Wraith and I refilled our canteens at the mess hall and, having checked that we had all of our equipment, made our way to the armoury to reclaim our ammunition. The armourer was another Lieutenant, his name tag reading ‘Leutnant Augpolitz, Waffenschmied’. He was a little kinder than most of the other ponies we’d encountered and immediately agreed to take us to the room containing all of the refugee’s ammunition. He located the boxes that matched our details and handed them to us. We filled our saddlebags and pockets with the loose rounds and clips before I piped up in confusion, “Hang on, where’s my bayonet?”
“Excuse me?”
“I had a German bayonet before I came here and it’s not in this box. Where is it?”
“It was confiscated as property of the LRSA. We took it to better arm our own troops.” All I had now was my kitchen knife that I’d raided from Cinnamon’s corpse. I scowled to myself. These LRSA ponies were beginning to annoy me more than Scavengers. Actually no, the Scavengers annoyed me a lot more. These ponies were just very frustrating. When Wraith certified that he had all that he’d come in with, we left the armoury and headed straight for the main gate. The officer in command pointed us in the direction of Refuge and we set course, leaving the encampment. The gates closed behind us and I felt very exposed again. But I also felt free. No more LRSA ponies to tell me what to do! I was a bit upset about again leaving a well-fortified area in which I’d likely be safe, but I had my reasons for leaving, and Wraith and I both bowed our heads and began the next stage of our journey.