Fallout : Equestria - New Roam Innovatus

by Delvius

Chapter X - Outcasts

Chapter X
Outcasts
"Associate with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company."

What is there to say that isn't obvious? That I panicked when I got word that no one had seen that strange grey mare with the antisocial tendencies and the timid demeanor? Or maybe that I halted the crowd and spent an hour galloping back and forth through the tunnels, calling Myst's name into the void? Oh, but both those things were very obvious, very much what I and even those around me expected me to do -- to the point that moving forward was completely out of the question until I found either Myst, or, gods forbid... her body. It was a daunting task, one that squeezed at my heart. I couldn't breathe calmly or keep my irritation in check. I couldn't take my mind off of thinking of ways to locate her, as much as such thoughts only increased my panic. I... I couldn't imagine going on without her.

Ah, but what I absolutely could and did do was envision what I was going to do to that... infuriating, maddening anomaly of a mare when I found her. By the gods, the things I would scold her for! And by the gods again, the things I would hug her for! Rage and affection had split my mind in half, one side hell-bent on inflicting such a punishment upon Myst that she would never again think of doing something so stupid, and the other side pleading with me to be so kind to her such that she'd wonder if maybe she hadn't done anything wrong at all. But of course she had wronged me -- wronged all of us. Intentionally or unintentionally, through her own faults or by freak circumstance -- I knew not. And until I found the specifics, I was going to keep my judgement.

No matter the chaos of my thoughts, my actions had to be swift and sure, my emotions and thoughts fairly placed and justifiably expressed. Of that much I was certain. The tunnels, yes, were... disturbing. It was as though a thousand breaths crept down my neck, infusing me with long years of torment and despair. I looked and saw nothing, and yet I... wondered. The anxiety spawned by such a place was suffocating; poor Myst may have had a panic attack. Perhaps she heard some noise and galloped off wildly, mistakenly thinking she was right behind us. So many uncertainties... Myst, after all, was Myst. If I was to deal with her for some foreseeable time, I had to understand her. Her, a queer little puzzle that attracted me with all her strange charms of... shyness, and... weirdness. Uh... yes.

And so, I thought determinedly as I trotted down one of the tunnels that branched off from the underground hub, I had to be ready to comprehend how such an event transpired. Like a light cast in mysterious places, I had to be ready to illuminate the mysteries that would surely crop up around her. I wanted to. I wanted to go through such trouble and effort, and for no other had I possessed such desires. She was a misunderstood mare, that was obvious just from looking at her. And I liked to think I had a mind capable of deciphering mysteries.

Hm. I... suppose that was as good a summary for my attraction to her as there could be. She was a mystery, and I a detective. I blushed, and despite myself and the great predicament we were all in, I stopped in the tunnel and took a short moment to smile.

"The things that Venus makes me think," I murmured, shaking my head. Not that I really believed some nonexistent goddess had put those ideas in me, of course. It was simply easier than admitting to myself the magnitude of my own embarrassing thoughts. "Like a light cast on dark places... gah, that's cheesy. Who would think up such trash?"

I was dispersing my hormone-addled thoughts, clearing my head and getting back on track, when suddenly the most blinding flash I've ever seen in my entire life flared from somewhere down the tunnel. Burning pain engulfed my eye sockets, the image of a blazing orb seared into my sight as I turned away and staggered back. By the gods... hot. It was getting hot. So hot it was dizzying. The very floor, once cold and hard to my hooves, was slowly rising to a blistering temperature.

I found myself dancing over the surface, struggling to keep my hooves off the scorching ground. I cursed luck for my broken and bandaged wings. For the first time ever, I felt the struggle all the unicorns and earth ponies and zebras in my life went through everyday: I was grounded, and it sucked.

"There's only disadvantage in having no wings!" I hissed, turning away from the light, intent on getting out of the tunnel as quickly as possible. Progress was painfully slow, and ground to a halt entirely when I heard a sound from the rear. There was the familiar distant roar of rushing flames, yes. But there was something else... screaming? Yes... and a familiar voice's screaming, no less.

"Myst?" I asked, dumbfounded, as I braved the radiance of the light once more. I didn't see her, but her screaming neared with each passing second -- and with each second, my hooves cried in protest, and my eyes teared, begging for me to turn away from such ludicrous luminosity. And yet I held fast, clinging to the hope that she was near. I cared not for what circumstance would bring her back, just that she would be back at all.

Then I saw it: a black splotch against the light, closing the distance with great speed. In such contrasted illumination, no details of the splotch's surface could be made out. And yet against all doubt I knew that it was Myst. She was sailing through the air, launched from wherever this explosion had originated from -- and she had no means of control. No wings to slow her down, no magic to cushion her fall... she would die unless I saved her.

Instinctively, I began to gallop backwards. The heat was searing now, utterly torturous to endure, and the light was nothing short of blinding. But Myst was my point of focus; so long as I was concentrated on her, I would endure. I had to, for both our sakes. And so as I moved, I anticipated with my best guesses her trajectory through the air. When the time came, I had to make a jump, and hope my calculations were correct.

She was near now. So near... but not yet! Remember Goldwreath, you've no wings to use right now. Almost there... yes! No, not yet! Her screaming's yet too distant. Bah, no it isn't -- concentrate, concentrate. No indecision.

Now, Goldwreath! Now!

With a shout, I launched myself into the air with all my force. A deep breath of hot air puffed inside my lungs, fueling the effort at hoof. My legs spread out, readying to catch the bullet-fast Myst. At the time I didn't think catching such a small mare would be so painful. Oh, how wrong I was. The impact flattened my armor against my ribs. We both sailed through the air and met the ground just moments later with a painful crash. We rolled, and came to a stop skidding across the sizzling surface. The metal of my armor conducted the heat too well, and it was all I could do to muffle a scream as I shambled up.

"Myst..." I panted, dragging myself over to her limp form. She was in a bad way, singed by the heat, before or since, and knocked unconscious by our collision. It couldn't have been good for her previous concussion. Whatever had happened that wound her up in this situation was beyond me -- and at the time, all I cared for was that we both got out of there alive. So I hissed through grit teeth as I agonizingly slung her up onto my back and galloped away. Or at least, tried to gallop. The heat had dazed me so, and my vision and mental faculties has deteriorated. Each breath flared inside my lungs with excruciating heat. For all my efforts, my 'galloping' was nothing more than a lazy, staggering canter.

I dared a glance back, staring into the massive fireball that was only getting closer. It was all the reminder my sluggish mind needed to realize that I could not let any weakness take hold. Not now. Not when more than my own life depended on it. Oh yes, the temptation was great, believe me. In the swirling vortex of pained disorientation that was my mind, the only solid thought was the desire to let out a breath and collapse. The suffering of utter incineration would last only a second, right?

I turned away from the blazing light and, for a few moments that terrified me only afterwards, when I had sufficient mental cohesion to grasp the magnitude of my delay, I stood still. I stood still and breathed. It seemed so easy to accept death. So peaceful to forget it all... but I had made the people of Spiderhole a promise. And I had made a commitment to represent Marediolanon before the Legion in Roam. And my parents and friends, the people who mattered, were still expecting me. And Myst had yet to meet them... had yet to feel the love and calm of a home.

How could I possibly lay down now when all of my life was nothing but unfulfilled commitment?

I sighed and prayed quietly, a faint humming-droning noise filling my ears from seemingly nowhere, "Grant me strength, oh gods and goddesses of Roam, that by my merits of action and word your existence may be assured to all who doubt; and against the enemies of Roam I swear to be your champion, if you deign it that this one time, against all impossibilities, I may prevail. Jupiter, Dies Pater... let just acts be done this day."

Afterwards, I delayed no longer. The noise in my ears had taken full effect, almost totally blocking out all other sounds. I closed my eyes then opened them, seeing through the haze with startling clarity. The heat on my back was now just a warmth, the fatigue in my legs an indifferent numbness. And in my heart I felt a will to live as I had never felt before -- it was the will to do all I had set out to do, for myself and for others, and for Roam. To crush the obstacles that stood in the way of a future for the Roaman people, and to pursue my path to its farthest end. I felt alive and impassioned, full of will -- and it was with all these blessings that I surged forward through the tunnel, one step ahead of pursuing inferno. And though the walls melted and the pipes burst with hot gas, I afforded myself no respite. I galloped on, enduring the blistering roar of oncoming flames and the thinness of air.

When at last I reached the underground hub, I jumped forward and dove to the side, pressing myself and Myst against the wall. And not a moment too soon, for immediately a veritable tidal wave of fire erupted into the chamber. My face was mere feet from the unstoppable torrent of heat that flooded the entire space, melting stone and metal as the hub's entire area was consumed in dazzling orange and yellow. I shielded Myst from the fires, keeping her burned and broken body from further harm. In that maelstrom of destruction I felt puny and insignificant, utterly out of place. And yet also blessed. There was a kind of beauty to it: a power that brought home to me how vulnerable we were. How easy to snuff out. And yet by the grace of the gods, there I was, witness to it all.

The flames engulfed stone and made slag of the floor and walls, but gradually the torrent weakened. I held Myst in my hooves and smiled faintly, tiredly.

I shook my head as my vision darkened. "Crazy mare... what have you gotten yourself into down here?" I felt my strength leaving me, the surge of will and energy draining from my limbs. The noise faded from my ears. I crumpled, and it was all I could do to lay her down and collapse next to her.

"Tell me about it... when you wake up. Okay? Maybe over a nice meal, somewhere... with candles and a rose in a tall glass. Because I'd like to know. Really." I broke out a little laugh and said quietly, "Consider it a date. Lemme know... if you accept."

I passed out grinning like a fool.

"... astonishing, really. Isn't it? With the kind of outer damage he seems to have had, his skin and muscle tissue are surprisingly intact. And given your description of the location you found him in, it's all the more impressive. Clearly the gods have shown him their favor."

My ears perked up. My mind began to wake from the thoughtless realm of unconsciousness, noticing little stimuli. Soft sheets, warm air -- warm but not still, not like underground. There was a draft. And more noise, that of hammering and trotting; the clink of metal, distant calls of names and orders. My eyes slowly peeled open, noticing first the Aquila laid against a simple wooden table. Then I saw the walls of a red tent directly behind that table, and finally a smooth stone floor, rimmed with dirt where the tent's pegs were nailed into the ground.

Immediately, I knew from all this: a Legion camp. And if no convoluted mishap had transpired during my incapacitation, then most likely I would be safe here. And if the people of Spiderhole were here, too, then they would also be in good hooves.

"Yes, of course... oh. Um, Vesperius, sir? He's waking," said another voice. Now, unlike that first voice, this one I recognized. And I wasn't quite sure how I felt about knowing he was here.

I turned my head groggily, beholding the grey and black silhouette of a robed zebra. Behind him were the open flaps of the tent, allowing me vision of a blurry, overexposed world. For now I would focus on this zebra alone, and in no time made out his form.

"Delvius? Is that actually you?" I asked.

The zebra I knew to be one of the praetorians of the crazed praefect Imperius nodded. "It is. I... suppose you wouldn't have noticed me while we were underground. I just blended in with the crowd, hoping for an opportune moment to reveal myself."

"And you really thought now was the time?" I didn't like it, not one bit. I mean, sure, Delvius had been one of the more agreeable praetorians during the whole mess with Arachnia and Spiderhole, but the fact remained that he was affiliated with the psychopath that had rendered my hard work and sacrifice pointless. Why was he here? Why had he followed us? Was it perhaps to get away from an order he didn't agree with? It was the most likely cause, but he'd have to convince me of it. For all I knew, he was spying on me.

Delvius seemed, at least, to understood my suspicions. He returned my stare for a few moments, then relented and looked away with lament in his eyes. Hmph. Well, at least he was giving off the right impression.

"Ahah, well now... I feel rather estranged here," the other voice said. I rolled my eyes to peer at the source.

This other zebra was different -- quite different. He was thin and lanky, his dark, metallic muscle-cuirass loosely clinging to his body. His expression was calm but tired; his eyebags were dark and his eyelids drooped, and his golden irises bore into me with a steady stare. His mane was shaved down to almost nothing but stubs, like a criminal's -- it was certainly not regulation style as taught to me by the centuria, at least. He seemed to me to resemble every stereotypical psychopath shown in old movies in Marediolanon's atrium. At the very least, though, his smile seemed friendly, faint as it was. Unless of course he was as skilled at faking kindness as all the other psychopaths, in which case I was probably in a lot of trouble.

Unnerved, I slowly sat up. "Uh, hello... there..." I cleared my throat. My sudden anxiety coupled with my thirst to render my voice hoarse. "And, ah, no. It's at least not my intent to estrange you, though I suppose you wouldn't exactly know what we're talking about."

The zebra shrugged, very plainly and devoid of emotion, and said nothing more on the matter. It occurred to me then that he had a purple cape over his back and an equally purple tunic under his armor. He was either a praetorian guard or some high-ranking officer. Personally, I'd had enough of both for the week. I squinted at him and groaned quietly.

He tilted his head and rose a brow. "Something the matter?"

I sighed and forced a smile. "Just... residual pain. Been through a tough week."

"A tough week?" He gave me a sideways look, then clicked his tongue. Suddenly his eyes drooped to almost a full close, and he slumped. "Why yes it has been a rather tiresome past few days. Rather... rather tiresome, yes indeed..." He swayed slightly and planted a hoof on a pole for balance. He took a deep breath.

"Fellow Roamans, pardon me. I ah... need some fresh air," he said, then turned and trotted out with a stumble.

I looked to Delvius. "What was all that about? Is he alright?"

He took a deep breath and looked around, licking his lips. "Ah, well... I can't speak for lord Vesperius. He's a very busy zebra, from what I've seen. I suppose any oddities in his mood can be attributed to exhaustion... or caffeine. He drinks a lot, and not wine. No, I think even the tiniest amount of that would put him straight to sleep at this point. It could also be that you may have reminded him of how tired he is."

I nodded idly. "You speak as though you know him," I noted.

Delvius looked outside, then back to me. "I have gotten to known him, yes," he replied. "You've been out long enough for us to have conversations regarding... many things."

My ears perked up. "'Long enough?'"

He nodded. "Two days. We found you and Myst curled up on the only patch of smooth rock in a chamber that looked basically like a big raisin. The Legion's medics, they looked after you in your sleep. Your body was... horribly deprived of nutrients after your ordeal down there, so they had to put a tube in your throat for liquid foods. You didn't need it for long, though. As you might've heard Vesperius say, you've quite a fast metabolism, and heal quickly. Gods be praised for all your blessings, for Jupiter has clearly shown you his favor."

I thought back, remembering the chamber filling with fire, the rocks melting into glowing ooze. I recalled the heat, the pain, the adrenaline. But most of all I remembered my desperate prayer to the gods. I couldn't have survived down there, absolutely not, without some benevolent intervention. By all logical sense, I should have died. But I didn't.

I felt a gentle presence tugging on my attention, and my eyes instinctively drifted over to the eagle. Just looking at it infused me with a warm, comforting feeling. A kind of faith... knowing that somewhere out there, in the great universe, were authorities on all the good things, and that they would see justice done. That in the end, they would make sure all was right.

Now, that moment. It was, ah... well, it brought change to me. If that comforting warmth was what faith felt like, it was no wonder people upheld it. I had never truly believed in the gods. There was just no evidence of them. They were explanations from a pre-enlightened period of time, fragments of old culture. But perhaps... perhaps... well, maybe it couldn't hurt to give them a shot. Just for a while, to see what happened...

The sun outside seemed to shine brighter, and the air entered my lungs more fully. Scent and hearing were suddenly sharper, and I felt overall better -- a little lighter of heart, and stronger, faster, quicker in the head. But if all that was an act of some environmental phenomenon, Delvius didn't notice. The eagle was quite obviously shinier now, though, glittering almost as though a fire were next to it. And again, Delvius didn't seem to perceive. A pleasant humming noise filled the air, very quietly, like the monotone drone of distant buzzing bees.

I blinked and shook my head, then leaned forward and took a deep breath. I rubbed my face. "Two days is a long time. I'd be almost disappointed if nothing at all happened in that span. Anything I should know about?"

Then my head clicked. "Hold on. First things first. Myst? How is she? Where is she?"

Delvius recoiled slightly, then smiled for an instant before letting it melt away. His expression turned plain. "Oh, she's still out of it. She needs more time is all. Surgeons are tending to her in one of the red-and-white medical tents outside in the fields. Mind you, she wasn't as... intact as you were. Concussion and burns and... other unsightly injuries. And she was far more deprived of necessary sustenance than you were, too. In comparison, you've just got broken wings -- which, I've been told, are healing quite well."

I grimaced. Myst had been in a bad way when last I saw her. I wouldn't have expected her to get well soon, but two days and not even signs of consciousness? That spelled 'bad' a thousand times over. Of course, there was nothing I could do about it. I had saved her life, at least. I just had leave the rest to the medical experts who were hopefully doing everything they could.

I sighed, then rubbed my face again and looked behind me. I stretched my wings. Aside from some numbness and aching, they were almost back to normal. "Well... at least there's this. I'll take what good news I can get. So, back to my original question... what's going on?"

He opened his mouth... then shut it. He cleared his throat and squinted in thought. "Ah, well..." he started, then shrugged. "I'm really not sure. Mostly I've just been going with the flow, staying with the other refugees. I know what's going on with them, sure, but it's just routine stuff. Getting settled in this camp, mostly. Meet the Legion, say we're not hostile, get brought into their camp, so on so forth... humdrum. They've been good to us so far, anyway. The bunch of elders you had around you have taken care of their own people, don't worry. Though, if you want to put them at ease, you could pay them a visit. They've been growing anxious to see their hero again."

I snickered and gave him a queer look. "Their hero?"

He gave a half-smile and nodded. "You saved them, Goldwreath. Whether you acknowledge the title or not, the fact is that you stood up for them. You protected them. And when things started fucking up really hard, you led them. You may not think much of it. You may just say 'it's what anyone would do', but it's not. Not in the wasteland. You've shown them you care, and that you care enough to act. That's rare these days."

He stepped back and gave a little bow -- a gesture that I wasn't quite comfortable with. Then he made for the exit, too. He stopped and turned around. "Oh, yes, right. If you really want to know what's going on, I'd talk to Vesperius. He's in the big tent on the hill. You can't miss it." He grinned slyly. "You seem to have a penchant for getting yourself involved with local affairs. Maybe you could make yourself useful again, eh?" He chuckled and left.

"A... penchant for it?" I grumbled. That wasn't true, was it? I mean, I had to intervene back at Marediolanon. Anyone would do the same for their own home, yes? Now, Spiderhole was a different story, I suppose...

I sighed. "Gods, he's right. I really need to care less from time to time." But even as I said it, I knew it couldn't be done. I was a guard, a protector of people. As long as they were not at peace, I would always have to involve myself. Such was my burden, and such it still is.

I stood up and stretched. The muscles in my body loosened quite comfortably. When that was done I made a motion to exit, but stopped. I turned slowly.

The Aquila was still there. I couldn't leave it, not even here. Its previous bearer had handed it over to me when he was too crippled to wield it. Now it was my responsibility as it was his. It belonged to the Legion, yes... but it was my charge, and I couldn't treat it any less.

It will be an odd thing to see for those outside, I thought as I picked it up. A naked pony, strutting around a camp of zebras and all that -- and what's more for that pony to be carrying an Aquila. Oh, the looks that would go my way... common Roaman courtesy would dictate I at least wear a tunic while holding such a prestigious idol, but there was no such clothing in sight, and I didn't know where in the world my armor had gone.

It made me self-conscious. After such a long time wearing my gear, the freedom of movement that only bare skin could allow felt odd... too elastic and bare, unbridled. I can't speak for any other armor-donning figure, but somehow I liked the feel of metal plates on my flesh. I liked the burden of duty they represented, the discipline required for their usage. Being naked felt as though I had been demoted and stripped of my title as a guard -- a thought that troubled me so deeply I shuddered right there in that tent. My whole life as I knew it was predicated on the obligations of being a protector, and if those were taken from me... I would be free. Oh, but what a directionless, chaotic freedom it would be. Sometimes, I thought, it is better to know and accept oneself as is than to risk forever losing track.

I shouldered the eagle and stepped outside. Not for the first or last time, light rendered seeing a painful task, but the scenery presented froze me instantly. My heart skipped a beat.

I had... hah, well, I'd heard so much of Roam, the Eternal City. Caput Mundi, the center of the world. I needed no signs, or posters, or words to tell me where I was. For when one emerges from a dim tent to be greeted by the sky-arcing aqueducts streaking across the heavens like narrow bridges going from north to south, east to west, one knows one is in Roam. And only in Roam could a wasteland carry any pride -- any semblance of the old glory that once was, a stubborn remnant of past greatness. For indeed, before me was a huge circular field, ringed by high fences of slender metal spikes. Beyond was a maze of old constructs -- open-air marble temples and pavilions of various sizes, ranging from the towering dome of the Pantheon itself to the humbler shrines below; the old roads were straight and wide, a mix of marble sidewalks and black asphalt.

Within the metal fence, the field was arrayed with an army of tents. Hundreds of them, organized in perfect grid-pattern; they were all bright red in the noontime sun. Banners fluttered in the draft as entire centuriae of Legion soldiers marched in formation, heading out a gate that led to the urban ruins beyond. Columns of armored vehicles led them into the city, their whirring engines competing with the hoofsteps of hundreds of zebras to fill the air with noise. Yet despite their departure enough legionaries had been left behind to tend to the numerous pathways of stone within the field; even as I watched I saw them building whole sections from scratch with new blocks of stone. And that was not all: green plants were being laid down, tenderly ensconced into the earth by the steady hooves of Roamans.

I blinked. Then I blinked again, slower, and smiled. "Long have I wished to see the city of the ancients. Had this been a trip without a deadline, I would have walked in through the outer limits instead of creeping in through tunnels. I'd have gawked shamelessly at the fabled walls of Roam, and at the statues of emperors, and at the Road of Triumphs..." I took a deep breath. "Ah, what an inappropriate approach I undertook instead..."

"Mm, undignified, yes. But inappropriate? Hardly."

I turned and saw Vesperius leaning against the stump of a broken column -- again, all very casually. The aura he exuded was one of placid energy, very calm; but for the most part, he just seemed bored. In his forehooves was a tiny rectangular device, sleek and black, to which his eyes were glued and on which he was tapping relentlessly.

"Roam does not demand that all things be glorious and grand -- just that, in comparison to her own greatness, all those other things are not. I'd say you prostrated yourself quite well, being carried into Roam's premises on a stretcher, burnt and injured. Quite a sight. Stirred things up around here. Exciting. Made the last two days here eventful. Really."

I didn't speak. I didn't know Vesperius. In all likelihood, he could have been a fine character. He also could have been a shadier zebra, like Thanus -- a person of mixed morals, hard to understand. And, as I feared, he very well could have been a ruthless maniac like Imperius had been. In one week, I'd met far too many individuals who would dare to don the color purple, the palette of the Roaman elite, and too few of them had in my mind proven themselves worthy of their tunics and titles.

I stared at him. He continued to tap on his device. At one point, he just stamped his entire hoof on the screen.

Out of sheer desire to break the awkward silence, I asked, "What's that?"

"Personal information processing unit," he answered plainly. "Sifts through significant data from other such units. Excellent device. Useful for easy viewing and composing of crucial documents -- reports, messages, video and audio files, etcetera... greatly reduces paperwork."

"Ah. Useful..." I muttered. He just kept tapping away. For a guy who looked so tired and bored, he showed no signs of stopping. "You walked out earlier. You said you needed fresh air. Tired much?"

"Oh yes, certainly. But plentiful sleep is not for the likes of me. I allotted myself the appropriate breathing time and that was all I needed. Three minutes. Good oxygen, yes, good oxygen... but my work is important. Utterly crucial. Can't stop now."

I stared at him as his hooves relentlessly pressed on the screen. My attempts at small talk had only made things more awkward, at least for me. "Clearly."

I looked around, wondering if I could yet abandon this awkward encounter. I wanted to see Myst. I wanted to get a feel of the situation I was in, feel the tides of worldly events. In fact, I had a short list of things I actually had in mind: I needed to ensure the security of the people of Spiderhole in this Legion camp, make sure they could start over. Then I needed to wait for Myst to awaken -- that part would take an undetermined amount of time; and after that I had to go meet the Legion's leader, represent my people, then hopefully I'd be given duties that would have me actively spend my time making things better out here. I had a wasteland to explore and assist. Encounters with the likes of Vesperius would make the very last item on my list of agendas.

Vesperius showed no signs of further interest in me, so I turned and was about walk away when his device beeped. I looked back and caught him smiling faintly, heaving a sigh.

"At last," he said quietly, "Break time."

And just like at, he seemed to transform into a whole different person. His physical attributes were the same, of course, but suddenly his posture and demeanor seemed alive, infused with the energy of a person who wasn't sleep-deprived. He had expressions on his face now, and his breathing seemed to actually fuel his movements instead of just being a faint sign that he was still alive.

He looked up at me with a very curious expression. "Ten minutes," he said to himself. Then he took one deep breath and asked simply, "You don't like me, do you?"

"Nor do I dislike you," I said straight away, hoping to avoid any form of confrontation. The sudden normalcy of his revitalized being uneased me. "You just, ah... resemble a few individuals I have much more definite opinions on. Negative opinions, too."

Oddly enough, he smiled. Then he glanced at his device. "Oh, I think I understand. I hear you had quite the encounter with that Imperius character. Very, very unfortunate, oh yes indeed..." He grimaced and tapped on the screen, and text flashed alongside a set of images -- photos depicting the cylindrical structure of Arachnia, and the caves, and formations of all three of Spiderholes's (potentially former) guardians.

The tiny device began to quietly narrate in a very formal, very calm female zebra's voice, "The stable of Arachnia was among the first fallout shelters constructed, with the primary directive of preserving and manifesting the most cherished periods of Imperial Roaman rule in the continent of Zebrica..."

I listened as the narration went on, watching as short videos depicting the construction of the stable played. Then I looked up and met Vesperius' eyes.

"I hear that things went quite sourly there. Your efforts, it would seem, were... for naught," he said, looking at my with sympathy, and pity.

I looked away. "Yeah." The mere memory of the slaughter that lunatic of a praefect had visited upon his own fellows sparked disgust in me. He did all that, and for what? Power? Order? The insanity of it was repulsive... and yet somehow intriguing, too. How had it gone so wrong, I wondered. I couldn't go back to Spiderhole to confront Imperius; I didn't know the way. But I made a mental note of prying as much information as I could out of Delvius. There had to be a reason for it all... and damn well did Delvius owe me some explanation if he wanted things to be clearer between us. He knew something, surely, and I was going to have him tell it to me.

Vesperius turned, looking off into the distance. The Legion detachment was well away from the camp now, past the fences and in the city. For all their numbers, they were but shifting specks of bright red and shining silver. The camp was quiet, except for distant, muted sounds: that of hammering on stone and steel, and the laying down of roads, and the erecting of small shrines on the edge of the field.

Vesperius took a deep breath and looked to the sky, as if studying it. I looked around, trying to get a better sense of my surroundings. I stopped when I saw the next image that popped up on his device. It was of me. It was my photo from the cohors urbanae, back when I first joined a year before: I stood straight and tall, dressed in my guard armor, with a stoic expression. But I remembered the moment all too well; at that time, I was trying hard not to smile with glee.

"H-how...?" I mumbled, pointing at the image.

"Hm? Oh, this? Thanus sent me the image, as well as your records from Marediolanon," he answered, and I gave him a wide-eyed, open-mouthed look of bewilderment. He smirked and looked back to the device. "You have an excellent service record, if rather short. You never abandoned your posts... no signs of bias when it came to arrests... no unfortunate incidents from personal consumption of alcohol..."

He went on for a moment, noting all my merits, until I stopped him in my embarrassment. "Please," I said, holding up a hoof. "I am... just like all my brothers in the guard detail. There's nothing in my records that don't also describe them." Then I growled, "And how did Thanus get a hold of those records? Only our centurion has access to them."

Vesperius shrugged. "Thanus is efficient at obtaining information and subduing his charges. You have mixed feelings for him, yes? I certainly do. Do you think he's ruthless? Conniving? You'd be right. He most certainly is those things. But deep down in his heart, he means well. I've known him long enough to trust his motives, however he proceeds to achieve them. That he has a tendency to anger such characters as yourself with his direct displays of authority and control is... unfortunate, but unavoidable. And yet for all his flaws, I knew he'd accomplish his task, as I gave it to him. For here you are, after all, in Roam."

I cast a cold, narrow gaze on Vesperius. He met it with a blank stare. "What's that supposed to mean?" I said lowly.

"Ah. The confrontation, as Apollo showed me in my dreams. Wonderful," he said with a sigh. "Well, what it means, Goldwreath, is that it was my intent to have an audience with you ever since I received your files. I expressed the desire, and Thanus made the arrangements. Granted, it was not part of the plan for you to endure that series of events in the desert... but here you are anyway."

I shifted, feeling my muscles tense. "You?" I deadpanned. "You're the reason I'm out here? Make no mistake, lord Vesperius, I am out here of my own volition. I shouldered the burden of an occupation my people never knew of or asked for. I made the best of a dire situation. I prevented needless slaughter, and I set out from Marediolanon to represent my people to the Roam's highest leaders. The Legion, they presented me the opportunity to do that -- they gave me a chance to make the world a better place, for Roamans and all others. Those are my missions. I'm not here to get sidetracked by you."

This zebra and Thanus, they had conspired to bring me here. They were the reasons the normal life of Marediolanon were shattered. Granted, we had an obligation to the empire, and thus it was in accordance with our duties that we should suffer and labor for Roam. But that two scheming commanders with their own motives were behind an otherwise noble operation didn't sit well with me. Conspiracy had almost brought Roam to ruin before. Now I knew why Vesperius' mere presence uneased me. He bore resemblances to every bad aristocrat, public figure, and leader I'd ever learned of. Or at the very least, he seemed to me to represent the one thing that had so long undermined the hard work of the countless soldiers and civilians of Roam: Politics, with all its damn powerplays and conniving.

Vesperius met my rant with an expression of utter confusion. He tilted his head, then pressed his lips together and met my eyes. "But, Goldwreath... I'm not here to distract you at all. I am the one you're supposed to represent your people to. I am Vesperius Titanus Aurelius Augustus, and I command the Legion, capital L. I am the high authority with whom you're to meet, and despite what you may think of me, I am not your enemy and bear absolutely no ill will towards you or your people. I swear by the gods."

As if to bring his point home, he knelt down before me and bowed. He... he was prostrating himself before me. The Aquila reflected the sun's light onto him, bathing him in gold. All of a sudden my ill-tempered feelings were reversed, and my eyes widened.

"I'm-I'm sorry," I stammered, bending down and bringing him up by the forehooves. My mind raced as I thought of what to say to such a prestigious and powerful individual. My throat went dry and my hide turned clammy. "I didn't know you were... nobody told me..." I fumbled around, embarrassing myself before the most powerful person in all of Roam as I tried to make excuses for myself. Normally I wouldn't have cared to try. I hardly knew Vesperius, and he didn't have any of my sincere respect. But as the seconds ticked by, the gravity of how I'd conducted myself around him bore down on me. Oh, what a terrible representative I was, to let my own feelings dictate my demeanor!

After a while I just shut up. Then I took a deep breath. "Please don't take offense, sir, but... you just didn't quite strike me as the one in charge here. One of high rank, yes, but... not the one I was supposed to meet."

"Eh, fair enough." He shrugged, smiling casually. "I get that often. After all, you think of the Legion's leader, and what comes to most people's heads is a centurion taken up to eleven. They expect a proven battlefield tactician, a frontline leader like in the days of old. A tough fellow with will strong enough to move the clouds. A strong zebra, expertly trained in all devices of war."

He smirked. "Well, ironically, those descriptions fit my subordinates instead. I am... admittedly... lacking in those regards. I am an administrator more than a commander. And that is because, Goldwreath, to fix this wasteland people must first see the problems for what they are and work from there. Passions must be reserved, leaders kept in the rear... for these are rare resources and must be carefully rationed. To smash against the numerous dangers of the wasteland with feeling before thought can be a crucial mistake. And that is why the senate has put me in charge of their armed forces. And that is also why I must always make the practical choices, like having my praetorians out in the field instead of wasting their training guarding me. And it is also why I've called you here. I would apologize for the inconveniences, but I knew it had to be done."

I nodded. My mind was still getting itself back together from the revelation of Vesperius' identity. Truly, I hadn't expected such an individual heading all these operations. Indeed, I had expected someone more akin to Horus. Close to his troops, leading from the front... using inspiration and will to seize the day, that was how Roamans worked. Or at least, how I would have liked Roamans to work. But if Vesperius had been trusted with such duties, I, well... I could only trust that he had the competence to deliver.

"Well sir, here I am," I said. "After an arduous and wholly unexpected journey, I'm here at last. Here to represent my people..." I cleared my throat, wracking my head to come up with an appropriate way to proceed. What to do before such a person of power? How to show that I was here to represent the duties and obligations of a whole people? How... how to show him Marediolanian character? And not the stubborn, presumptuous, and mistrusting half that I and my people had displayed, but rather the side that boasted our loyalty and courage?

Ah, of course! Bow. Bow before Roam and the gods, as he had to prove his point. Now it was my turn.

"You bowed to me in placation, and I bow to you in servitude," I said as I handed him the Aquila. At first, my hooves were tight and stiff, unwilling to give up what I'd been entrusted to protect. But it was in Roam now, safely returned to its rightful owners. I had been entrusted to protect it, and I had. I'd done my duty... and so I let it go.

Vesperius took it, and I knelt down on both knees and faced the dirt. I took a deep breath. "I am at your disposal, lord Vesperius. I and all my talents are yours, if only I may use them for Roam and the gods. I, who represent the people of Marediolanon, lord... am at your command."

I heard a thud as he planted the eagle's metal base into the dirt. "And gladly, the Legion accepts," he said firmly. "And Goldwreath, you've done more than enough to represent your people -- and to inspire them, it would seem. The actions you undertook for your home have roused the slumbering senses of duty that'd been laying dormant in your fellows, so my reports say, whilst your more recent exploits have shown me a glimpse of the determination of your brethren. There is no need to bow before me, who could not have accomplished even half of your amazing feats of durability and persistence. Rise."

I did as I was told, then held back a gasp. For as I looked, his eyes were lit with a fading blue light. Not even a second passed before it disappeared entirely and his irises turned back to gold. A barely-audible droning noise faded along with the blue. I was mystified and froze where I stood. And though his smile was the same as ever, faint and forced through a degree of exhaustion, I suddenly felt a great deal of anxiety -- as though I were being watched by more than just one pair of eyes.

He tilted his head. "You look as though you've seen a ghost," he noted. "I suppose that, for some, the weight of commitments can be rather shocking. Are you having second thoughts already?"

I shook my head, more to shake myself out of my stupor than to answer him. I decided not to ask about... whatever that was. Even zebras had access to magic, I kept telling myself.

"Good, very good indeed," he grinned. He took a moment of pause and continued, "Because I've your first assignment ready, if you'll take it so soon after your entry into the ranks of the Dignitary Auxiliaries -- the group of individuals like yourself that are now in my employ. You'll meet the others soon enough."

A mission? Already? I was no one to shy away from a duty given directly from a superior, but I... was exhausted. Granted, I'd been asleep for two days, and things had seemingly fallen into less volatile and mysterious circumstances. But if I accepted, would I just pick up and leave straight away? There were so many loose ends here...

My indecision must've showed on my face. "There it is again, that look. You sure you're not staving off a panic attack in there, hm?" he asked with a faint chuckle. I looked at him with a face contorted by the pangs of indecision. In my mind, I felt something grinding down on me, punishing me severely for my unruly and otherwise uncertain behavior. It was as if I'd been... tampered with, made to suffer more greatly for my doubts than I would have done to myself. Suddenly just not having a clear goal in mind hurt, bad.

Right after he posed the question, Vesperius' amused expression died off. "Oh my, you are, aren't you? Terrible inquiry on my part, I'm sorry. Lack of, ah... sensitivity. Anyway, rest assured that I'm no totalitarian. I won't order you to take it. As a DA, all your actions henceforth shall represent and uphold Roaman values -- you are a symbol to your people and to all others of what Roam is and can be. So while of course accomplishment of your missions would have great strategic value to me, you are first and foremost a diplomat. A diplomat to the hearts and minds of the countless souls residing in Roam's bountiful lands. I leave it up to you to always ask, 'What will make this place Roaman again?' and act on your conclusion. If you feel that, for the moment, doing nothing is the best course of action-..."

"No... no," I managed, and I was surprised at just how much difficulty I'd been starting to have just to breath. It all almost immediately went away the moment I made up my mind, as if my body had physically reacted to my decisiveness. At the time I just attributed it to my exhausted body, but... well...

"I can do it." I stood straight and recomposed myself. I spared a moment of thought for the idea that maybe I wasn't actually ready for this yet, that there were other more important things to tend to first... but none of that was true. That episode of fatigue aside, I was fit and able, and my top priority had always been to strive for a greater future for my people -- the Roamans, of whom Marediolanians were but a tiny fraction of. And surely I couldn't turn down an opportunity from the leader of the Legion himself, not without ruining his opinion of me. "I just need the details, sir."

He gave a sideways shrug. Then with one smooth move, he pulled another device from somewhere under his cape, turned it on without looking at it, and gave it to me. I had a feeling it was a gesture he'd performed many times before in the presence of -- as he called us, apparently -- 'Dignitary Auxiliaries'. I was one of them, now.

"All details are on this device. Yours and mine are linked through the Legion's communication network. This is a receive-and-report machine; its entire purpose is centered around you receiving my messages and responding to them. The interface is barebones. I needn't explain how to use it, for even a foal could figure it out. I should know. This model of durable, military-grade hardware was my first ever device."

He spoke with a monotone now, and quite obviously without enthusiasm. I thought that maybe I was the cause of his morose mood, but then I realized that it had been ten minutes since our conversation began -- the exact time he'd allotted for interacting with me. Even as I held the device gingerly in my hooves, I saw him glancing impatiently at a watch on his left forehoof.

He looked up at me and sighed tiredly. "I should go," he said, entrusting me with the Aquila once more. With a sleepy nod, he turned and trotted down a path leading up the gentle slope of a hill, upon which was pegged an enormous purple tent guarded by none other than more praetorian guards. Old broken columns and a piece of an ancient ceiling surrounded the tent around and above, making it seem as though the tent were partially caged.

"Busy guy," I muttered, lamenting his sorry state of being. Tired but working, oscillating between bouts of exhaustion and normalcy... it was as if he'd turned himself into a machine, segregating without discrimination his moods and manners between different timeslots, as if emotions and thoughts could be so easily organized. But hey, maybe that's how he liked to keep things. In both of his demeanors he exhibited a desire for control, for order. Who was I to judge, eh?

I turned to the device in my hooves. A small black square, basically, thick in make and with special indented slots in the rear for attachment to hooves. The screen was merely four inches across, and there were no buttons of any sort. The only features that broke the device's dull symmetry was a small antenna popping put from the upper right, and tiny solar panels along the top.

I gave the dark screen a tap, and it lit up to display a... a login page. A plain login page. There it asked for my name and settlement of origin. I provided those, and it next displayed a white page with nothing but two on-screen buttons. On the left, a white button that read 'MESSAGES', and on the right another white button titled 'COMPOSE'. The dullness with which this thing presented itself was almost physically exhausting. Barebones, he said; even a foal could use it, he said -- to think that I'd have to live the rest of my foreseeable life working with this.

If I sound resentful or otherwise without love for the notion of almost pure, functional simplicity, it's because I can't fathom the thought of how such an almost demoralizingly plain thing could ever coincide with the passion of fighting Roamans. Maybe it was just me, and Roaman legionaries before or since were okay with it. But to me the device gave off the vibe of a cold and distant Roam, a power to fight for but one which would only ever show its thanks in emotionless text. For soldiers in the field conducting dangerous longterm operations, such interaction with the empire couldn't possibly birth any inspiration. I liked my Roam close to my heart and always its proud and dignified nature, not some compartmentalized hunk of letter-displaying metal, thank you very much.

"Ugh. Alright, let's get this over with." I rolled my eyes and tapped on MESSAGES, and was presented with yet another utterly stripped-down user interface. There was one tiny envelope icon, titled 'Assignment 1 for Goldwreath'. It seemed Vesperius had been sure I would accept his offer to join the Legion; no way could he have put this here without utter surety. I tapped on the envelope icon and was greeted by this wall of text:

"Greetings, Goldwreath, and welcome to the Legion.

"If you are reading this, then I was correct in my assumption that you would join us. Chances are we spoke before that transpired. I can't know how that conversation went, but just know that I highly respect your dedication and determination. Your service record, per Thanus' reports from Marediolanon, show you to be an excellent Roaman in all aspects. I am honored to have you with us.

"Now, that there's my one-paragraph nicety/letter of accommodation/welcoming speech/congratulatory statement/notice of gratitude/informative note that I feel obliged to offer to all Dignitary Auxiliaries. Please don't feel like any of it is fake. Psychologists say that when compliments are given in such a manner, they might come off as condescending or insincere. This manner of communication is simply how I've learned to dole out information to others. I spend too little time outside.

"And that was my one paragraph apology/self-defense text, copied and given to every DA, including yourself. Please don't feel that the emotions behind it are fake, either.

"Now, onto business. Your mission is one of diplomatic repercussions. I will be succinct. You are to proceed down the hill, the Palatine hill, this hill, towards the camp. You will proceed to the garage for the armored vehicles and approach APC number five. It has a big five painted on its side in red paint. Inside you will find all necessary equipment -- namely, your guard armor, refurbished to suit your position as a pegasus DA; it basically has wing slots for you now. Your gladius has also been polished for continued use, and you are provided with standard firearms I'm sure your guard training will allow you usage of. The Aquila I hear you've been entrusted with by one of Thanus' will accompany you on this mission and onwards, indefinitely, until Thanus asks for its return.

"The driver will take you to your destination, four miles from here, to an urban community that has not yet accepted Legion jurisdiction. Your job is to deal with a recent commotion stirred up by the arrival of armed foreigners, not at all familiar to the Legion's limited knowledge of post-apocalyptic factions. We know they are foreigners because they have exhibited usage of plasma weaponry -- a staple of Equestrian troops during the war -- as well as powered infantry armor. They are also pegasus ponies. So, they look like Equestrians. They are armed like Equestrians. And in all likelihood, they also came from Equestria. They have shown violent tendencies, bordering on hostile. It is my hope that seeing one of their kind will calm them down sufficiently -- and is also why you are the only diplomat I am sending and are to not use your weapons unless necessary. You'll be provided with a detachment of bodyguards, but your purpose is purely diplomatic. Establish talks and negotiate any form of peaceful resolution that will lead to our understanding of them and their circumstances. Put your rhetoric to use. Thanus speaks highly of it.

"Now, I do not demand success. I do not even demand that you pursue this assignment. I demand nothing, really. These are jobs I would normally assign stretched resources and personnel to, and doing so would be completely normal to me and to them. The Legion stands ready to be without rest to do absolutely all it can for Roam, and for you by extension. That is our pride as the Roaman people, that we put our fellows ahead of ourselves in the hopes that we all propel each other to unparalleled achievements. You can very well just relax, and take some days to recuperate. If you decide on this, let me know so I may allocate resources to this anomaly. But in your Roaman heart, I don't think that's what you want to do. You will think of the countrymen willingly enduring for you, and you will want to pay them back.

"Here is your chance. Will you take it?"

"Just two miles out now. Guard detail, get ready back there. Dignitary, you'll be up in about five minutes. Try not to say anything that'll piss them off, alright? Alright..."

The somber atmosphere in the vehicle deepened. The driver had been one second away from yawning. The eight legionaries in the APC with me, all with baggy eyes and drooping heads, weren't any better off. Maybe Vesperius had just played to my emotions with his own rhetoric of civil duty, but this bunch sure looked like they'd been deployed and redeployed nonstop for who-knows-how-long.

I wanted to pay them back. A ploy by Vesperius or not, he was right. I couldn't possibly have hung back and pursued my own desires while my countrymen were sacrificing for me. Eventually, a sense of shame would've compelled me to action. I may not have been a zebra, but I was Roaman and my people needed me. All my life, I'd been giving too little of myself. Now, for the first time, I was going to perform my duty to Roam in a very direct and immediate manner. I was speeding towards the town of Via Oppidium (literally Imperial for 'Road Town') at twenty-four miles an hour to pacify a dangerous situation.

I was the one meant to deal with it; it scared me and excited me at the same time, for I knew the possible outcomes. It was in my accelerating heartbeat and on my sweat-coated face that I felt the rampaging anxiety. Now, I was all for acting based on ideals. My whole involvement in the wasteland centered on my desire to help the Roaman people. But for Vesperius to entrust to me a task with such weight... I couldn't help but question his decision to choose me.

Not that I myself had acted with any clear degree of prudence. After all, where is the wisdom in immediate acceptance of a difficult task with no thoughts regarding a plan, or even sensible refusal or postponement? I'd acted impulsively, swinging my entire being in favor of the first cohesive thought my mind formulated.

The most frustrating thing was that my impulses were becoming stronger. Since Spiderhole, I'd spent less time and effort on careful considerations. I wondered if maybe it was just the wasteland's demanding nature modifying my behavior. It was a reasonable hypothesis, and I settled for it. And yet somehow, I couldn't help but wonder...

For all my troubled brainstorming, I at least had my armor back. Thank the gods for that. I couldn't have withstood the anxiety without it. Jupiter only knows the kind of stuttering mess I'd have otherwise been. I kept smiling to myself though, trying to convince myself that all would be fine, that Delvius would look after things in my absence. He'd seemed so eager to help, so eager to earn my trust -- and though I wasn't sure of his motives, my anxious mind was glad for any assurance. I had no surety of my own ability to handle what was to come. But surely it couldn't go too badly, right? They were pegasi, after all. I was one of them.

That one thought replaced all others by the time the driver called in on one minute. I was a pegasi, a genetic anomaly in Marediolanon. Nobody there had ever treated me with prejudice, but there had always been questions. Mom and Dad weren't pegasi, and neither were their parents, or their parents' parents. The only pegasus in all of my family tree was the wife of my ancestor, the wartime Roaman orator Theodorus. I surely wasn't adopted from another family with closer ties to pegasi, and no way had I been brought in from the outside. Marediolanon had been sealed shut for centuries. As a colt, I'd never cared much. Wings were cool. But as I grew up... well, the more I'd thought, the more I'd questioned myself. Ultimately, I just had to live with the thought that I simply was.

Of course, my strange possession of wings would not assure me a warm welcome from my fellows in flight. I should have been excited. I loved the Roamans, but at last I would meet people who were actually like me. People in whose presence I wouldn't feel alienated by my physiology. The culture gap would be enormous, and if they were Equestrians then national animosity could be present, but surely mutual curiosity on both sides would prevail and lead to a peaceful exchange of information?

Suddenly the APC ground to a halt, and I rocked sideways and thumped against the metal interior. The others had already been braced for exit, shields up and weapons ready. I'd completely blanked out and missed the countdown to action. I could hear voices outside, an uproar of commotion. There were sizzling and splashing noises accompanying explosions, screams abundant in the chaos.

The interior of the APC blared an alarm, and the ramp crashed down against the pavement. The legionaries burst out to form a perimeter around the exit.

"Move it, legionaries! Defensive formation now, shields up!" The centurion glanced back at me, heavy pistol in hoof. "Dignitary! Anytime now."

I licked my dry my lips and kicked off my seat, heart hammering, hoping I wouldn't have to use the weapons strapped to my sides. I cantered out into the cover of the legionaries' shields, crunching stone beneath my hooves as I surveyed the scene.

Here was Via Oppidium: a town at a four-way intersection, composed of many sizable structures and the cross-shaped road in the center. Fences blocked off the four entrances, and were fortified with overhead walkways and machinegun emplacements. Sandbags lined the sidewalks, and overhead was a network of wires attached with various assorted devices -- lightbulbs for the nights, but also windchimes and, on lower wires, clothes and other personal effects.

But the town wasn't composed of the buildings themselves; no, those were in too terrible a shape to safely house a population, what with collapsed floors and ceilings -- they were instead used to secure the town's position, filled with their own impassable rubble to act as a barricade against the outside world. The real settlement was underground, and was composed of fissures and craters in the pavement. Roofed with steel torn from military vehicles, these irregularities in the ground appeared like bunkers and trenches, and a structure in the very center of the street was essentially a metal pyramid topped with a flag and armed with machineguns. Pipes criss-crossed the roads, disappearing into mounds of rubble, snaking up walls and crawling into muddy holes. Paths worn into the cement marked where the people would tread, heading up and down little stone ramps that lead into and out of the street. Here, all dwelling was done beneath the dirt.

It was good that the town be built in such a manner, for it was now subject to battle. I looked up and saw flashes of green energy blast overhead, liquefying portions of a tall building's wall. Molten rock oozed slowly down the sides and dripped sizzling onto the street. The metal ceilings of several subterranean abodes had been blasted, forcing the inhabitants to seek refuge amongst the rubble of the street. Alongside the cowering groups of zebras were guards, propped right against stone and sand bags.

"I thought the pegasi's behavior was only bordering on hostile!" I told the centurion, keeping my head low. "When did they decide to just start shooting?!"

From way across the street, far beyond the boundaries of the town, green energy -- plasma, I believed -- continued to fire relentlessly towards us. The operator of this fearsome weapon was well-established in the window of a low building. The barrage had no particular target, sweeping from side to side. Effective suppressing fire -- or just a triggerhappy gunner at work.

The centurion staggered back as his shield was blasted with a volley of green bolts. "Fuck if I know!" he shouted back. "I'm just on escort detail here; I don't know squat about the parameters of this operation!" He grunted and planted his legs firmly into the dirt. "Legionaries, line! Line!" he ordered.

The legionaries moved immediately, breaking their defensive semicircle in favor of a more directed protective formation. They rushed forward to the entrance, scuttling over rubble and evading fire, and formed a line that blocked off the town from the hail of destructive energy. Their Legion scuta were different from the shields we used back in Marediolanon; these were modified with spikes on both edges at the bottom, and these they used to slam into the cement and create a solid obstruction against the pegasus gunner's line of fire. Once safely behind their metal wall, the legionaries drew their own weapons and retaliated.

The streets were suddenly calm, and save the muted gunfire all was quiet. The distressed townsfolk soon came crawling out of their cover.

I cantered forward and met with the least shocked-looking guard in the bunch. "What happened here?" I asked.

The guard swallowed and shook his head. "We, uh... well, we wanted 'em out. Conductor, he asked them to leave. Said we couldn't help them. We had none of the materials they needed and nothing to spare. That pissed them off, oh yeah fuck it did. They were already in a bad mood when they came yesterday. Starved and beaten-looking. So they attacked -- bastards broke into our depot and took off just like that. Left that one fucker to pin us down and keep us from following... but they wouldn't leave one of their own, right? They couldn't have gone too far, anyway. Most of 'em were injured, in some way. Must've holed up somewhere they could fortify."

The centurion trotted up, giving his troops a passing glance. He didn't seem worried for them, and anyway they had handled the situation quickly and effectively. "So they went down that way, then?" he asked the guard and nodded off in the direction of the gunner. "Down that street?"

The shaken guard nodded. "About ten minutes ago... just before you arrived." The zebra's face tightened. "Makes me wonder if they knew you were coming, and if it made them act this way..."

I gave him a dumbfounded look. "You're blaming the Legion? For what?" I questioned. It may have come out more demandingly than I intended, for the guard balked. The centurion stepped closer to me, in support of my skepticism. The guard fidgeted.

"N-now, I can't speak for the-the whole town. I just uh, have an opinion, right? Right. So uh, uh, w-well-..."

A pony stepped forward; his coat a pale, sandy yellow and his mane and tail the color of butter. His brown eyes looked over at us with concern before turning to the guard.

"Calm down there, son. I'll take it from here, alright? Go check on the others," he told the guard, who was all too eager to take the order and leave. The pony gave me a small frown. "You needn't give my boys such a look. You scare people, you Legion types. Might wanna look into that is all I'm saying."

I realized I'd been scowling, and that a heavy loathing had settled on mind. I hadn't intended any of it. My subconscious simply hadn't taken kindly to some random zebra criticizing soldiers who'd obviously worked their flanks off. I dispersed the anger and took a breath.

"Apologies. I suppose I wasn't aware of myself there," I said. "Make no mistake, my intentions are purely diplomatic. I don't aim to start anything. My job is to just get those pegasi over there on the negotiating table. This is unnecessary violence." I scowled and glanced over at the gunner, still blasting away. "Though my own kin don't seem to think so... disappointing," I grumbled, shaking my head.

"Kin?" The pony gave a quick look-over and spotted my wings. "Oh, well now! That there's a surprise. So the Legion sends a pegasus diplomat to deal with pegasus ruffians... okay, I'll admit that's impressive. You people must have a lot of resources."

"Eh, not as much as you'd think, pal..." the centurion mumbled. Now that the immediate danger had passed and the adrenaline had faded, he'd started to sway on his hooves, his eyes struggling to stay open. Clearly he hadn't slept in days. I was faced with a dilemma: here was an officer clearly unfit to take command, and he had to find somewhere safe to take some badly needed rest. But if he was out of it, who'd lead his troops? Me? I hardly qualified to lead anyone, least of all professional legionaries. But there didn't seem to be much else to do.

The pony and I, we'd noticed the centurion's drowsiness straight away. A silent agreement passed between us: this officer was of no use like this. Best to let him off somewhere.

The pony cleared his throat and called, "Zanus, Therum. Take our friend here to the infirmary please. No medical attention, no. Just a bed."

The centurion's sluggish reaction was testament to his condition. He only understood once two of the town guards each grabbed him by a forehoof and dragged him off.

"Hey, w-what? No, I don't need a damn bed. Get your wastelander hooves off me you damn inbreds! My troops need me," he slurred, sleepily yanking at his hooves, but his body clearly knew what it needed and he didn't do much else.

"Poor sod," the pony said, shaking his head as he watched the officer dragged off. He turned back at me and noticed my skeptical look. He sighed.

"Look, you're clearly the representative here -- the diplomat, or emissary, or whatever you like to call it," he said. "So I'll make it clear that I don't hate the Legion. This town doesn't hate the Legion. But there are those who do, and we simply can't take sides. You people are off making war on hundreds of different groups in the name of reclaiming the land, and you know, that's... admirable. The killing... not so... but the goal is. It's just that even with all your fancy tech, I don't think you can succeed. It's a big wasteland. Not even with ten-thousand soldiers could you do it. It is folly. If your operations come crashing down, I don't want my settlement on anyone's hate-list. Now, you said you came here to deal with these pegasi, and thank goodness for that. But just in case you've got some other agenda, know this now: we won't join you. Not now at least. I'm sorry."

I stood there, not quite sure what to say. I suspect that if I were a true Legion diplomat, knowledgeable in all current affairs and sent to Via Oppidium with the sneaky intention of persuading them to my cause, then I'd have been utterly disappointed and had my morale brought low. But of course I knew nothing of how the Legion was actually faring in the wider wasteland, and it was expressly for the pegasi that I'd been sent here. So I wasn't as emotionally downed as I could have been.

"Well, I'll be sure to let my lord Vesperius know," I told him. "But I was sent here to deal with my kin, not to reel you into an alliance you don't want. The Legion may approach you again, for they need all the help they can get, yes... but I won't bother you with that. You have my word."

He nodded, relief flooding his features. "Alright, alright. Thank you for not pushing it. Now please, just... get rid of these damn foreigners so I can get my town back in order."

I looked off towards the legionaries, still trading shots with the pegasus gunner. "Of course. My kin here clearly aren't open to negotiation as it is. They have to be subdued. Starting with that one..." I glared at the barely-visible pegasus, still firing away from his spot in a hole in the side of a building.

"Anything we can do?" the pony asked. "My guards are shaken, but they can help. Tell me what you need."

"Right now, nothing," I replied, stretching my wings ever so carefully. Delvius was right, they had healed quite nicely indeed. "Let your people focus on repairing this damage. We are here now, and we will deal with the pegasi. You've held out and did your best, I presume, to keep the violence to a minimum. That is enough."

But as I formulated a plan to knock out the gunner, I realized I knew not the pony's name. "Ah yes. Well, per common courtesy, I'd like to know your name."

"Fair enough," he replied. "I suppose we had missed out on introductions. Conductor, that's me. Current mayor of Road Town, as folks here like to call it. Via Oppidium just doesn't have the same ring to it."

"Well met, Conductor. I am Goldwreath," I replied, holding out a hoof for him. He shook it firmly and bowed his head courteously. I did the same.

As we shook hooves, it dawned on me that my involvement with the Legion would henceforth have me undertake numerous missions of diplomatic context, of which this was merely the first. Indeed, my whole life as I saw it was now at the service of Vesperius. I was anchored to his orders... and that wasn't so bad. Such direction was better than I'd thought my wasteland life to become: chaotic and uncertain, moving from place to place on vigilante business. With the Legion I had a job; a job in line with what I desired, no less. I found myself upon a fortuitous position, one abundant with opportunity and possibility. I had skills, for which I had apparently earned the favor of various Legion officials. Now, I couldn't say for certain if my abilities were as exemplary as they made them out to be. But I was a Dignitary Auxiliary now, which meant I was one of Vesperius' emergency personnel, to be sent off on jobs with no prior warning. Granted that I was supposedly under no obligation to carry them out... but I could hardly live with myself that way. To me, there was no refusing.

I knew not what my future would hold, except increasingly tougher challenges. My skills would need practice to be up to the task. And so as Conductor and I lowered our hooves, I resolved to take every opportunity to test myself.

I chose my next words carefully, intent on immediately developing a functioning diplomatic persona -- one that I would turn myself into whilst in jobs, and, perhaps, even outside of them.

"Take comfort, now," I told him. "I do not know the business of these pegasi in this land, or indeed what freak circumstance has lead to their violence -- but all well and the same, per my duty to nation and people, I shall resolve the situation. Hopefully with no bloodshed, but if such is necessary, then so be it."

We bade our farewells, and at last I departed from his presence and trotted off to the legionaries. They'd done well keeping the gunner's attention, but now it was time to end this farce. Step one was to subdue the triggerhappy pegasus and draw from him the locations of the others -- and I knew just how to proceed.

Approaching from the side, well out of the pegasus' sight, I took cover behind some sandbags just next to the legionaries' shield wall. I eyed the nearest shield.

"I'll be borrowing this," I told one of the legionaries as I yanked the thing out of the ground, then as quickly as I could I dived back out of sight and strapped it to a forehoof.

The legionary nodded and, seeming to understand my intentions, shouted over the cacophony of noise, "Lay down suppressing fire! Nonstop bullets, that direction!"

The ensuing racket was deafening. The green bolts ceased blasting in our direction as the pegasus gunner disappeared beneath cover.

This was my chance. Firstly, I planted the Aquila in the dirt to leave it behind in safety. Then with one forceful leap I took to the air, flapping hard and fast as I made my way around Road Town's walls of debris. I was heavy and slow, but unseen and prepared for combat. Already I was approaching the gunner's position, and as I neared put every ounce of strength I could muster into my wings. The effort was brutal on my recently-recovered appendages, but I pressed on. Holding the shield in front of me, I aimed for a section of wall that was rickety and weak -- almost nothing but the rotten wood of the buildings skeleton. Beyond it, I knew, was the pegasus.

I braced myself. Having reached maximum velocity, I screamed at the top of my lungs. In a blur of splinters and stone, I crashed into the building.

The impact broke my momentum, sending me rolling over the floor. I came to a stop hard against a wall, dazed and with a tremendous ringing in my ears. Dust had blown everywhere. I shook my head.

I heard coughing nearby and groggily turned to look. Through clouds of dust I saw a figure armored in black plates viciously shaped like carapace. It stood a ways off, stumbling around and tripping over debris. Its head swayed dizzily atop its body, but I saw its eyes: orange, divided into hundreds of tiny hexagons -- again, like that of an insect. It sported a long tail clad in the same black plates, though at the end was a sharp point almost like a stinger. Despite all these strange cosmetics, I knew I was looking at a pegasus. The extensions on the sides, though covered in a thick mesh of black fiber, were undoubtedly wings.

The pegasus flopped to the ground and groaned -- she was clearly a mare. Her helmet-clad head rested mere feet from me. Then she noticed me and turned those disturbing orange eyes in my direction. We stared for a moment, unmoving and uncertain. All throughout, I wondered if maybe I'd successfully knocked her out of fighting shape with my risky divebomb crash alone. I'd have been glad if I had, because that was a stupidly painful tactic that I had no intention of repeating. I didn't even know why I'd tried it.

But then she got up, quick as lightning, and I knew straightaway that I was in for a fight. I rose to my hooves, shield at the ready -- and luckily so. For though she had her back turned to me, her tail whipped and stabbed, smashing itself repeatedly against my defense. I jumped back, out of its range, and leapt into the air, swinging the heavy shield overhead. The mare just barely managed to avoid getting crushed with a scutum that must've weighed at least half my own weight. She rolled to the side as I yanked the shield out of the floor.

I went on the offensive, bracing the shield right against my body as I charged her like a bull. To my surprise she ran straight at me. With one smooth motion she leapt over me, and with her own wings slowed herself down just enough so she had time to kick me in the back. I fell to the floor in a heap, cursing.

The mare laughed. "Damn, boy!" she jeered, her voice filled with equal parts cockiness and amusement. "You gotta lose some weight. Ain't right for a pegasus to get thrown around like a sack of bricks!" She spared a glance at the wall I'd busted down. "And where the hell'd you learn to use your wings, eh?"

Her voice irritated me, oh it so irritated me. To taunt an opponent during a fight... what a cocky bitch. I didn't bother to respond. She was faster than me -- I knew it and she knew it. If I could only corner, her, though... and, yes, maybe lose some weight...

I got up deliberately slowly, and she circled me cautiously, taking every opportunity to call me some variation of 'heavy' or 'fat'. She could have run away. She could have flown off to warn the others in her group. But she decided to stay behind to fight me -- a telltale sign of pride. She wanted to beat me just because. She wanted something to brag about, something to taunt me over. This mare and ruffians back in Marediolanon weren't so different. Egocentric and reckless... good.

I stood still as she circled me. Her stinger tail was raised, ready to stab. But for all her bravado, she at least knew that so long as I had my shield I could block whatever attack she could throw my way. If my objective was to corner her, her objective was to disarm me. It came wholly unexpected to her, then, that I would disarm myself.

I swung the shield in a wide arc and tossed it right at her. She dodged it easily, leaping up and hovering in the air as the shield broke the wall behind her. Her surprise was evident -- for a short moment, she stared in bafflement at the hunk of metal sticking out of the cement instead of at me. It was all the time I needed.

I charged forward again, jumping up and tackling her right out of the air. We crashed to the wooden floor, and with all my weight I pinned her down. She struggled, trying to shove me off with her hooves, her stinger tail in full effect -- whipping and stabbing in a frenzy like some kind of rabid tentacle. One stab caught me right in the shoulder, but luckily my pauldrons had bent the very tip of the blade. It was stuck to my shoulderplates.

I planted a hoof on her throat and pressed down, forcing her to focus on trying to get it off. While she was distracted, I pulled out my gladius and, ionizing the blade, severed her stinger tail completely from the rest of her armored body. Now, I had no intentions of killing her (though she'd made the idea tempting), so I tossed my blade aside and focused on keeping her down.

"Stop struggling! All I wanted was to talk to you people!" I shouted at her. Then one of her hooves broke free and she punched me square in the face. I tasted blood.

"Yeah, eat shit you lumbering jackass!" she spat.

Ooooh, she was making hurting her so tempting. So, so tempting. Something about these brash types had always pissed me off. They just wouldn't stop even when they'd lost.

I put all my weight on her throat again. I couldn't choke her. Her armor prevented it. I could at best make breathing seriously difficult for her, nothing more. But she instinctively went into overdrive trying to secure her oxygen anyway. I was much heavier than her, and with her hooves bound up in the futile effort of pushing just one of my limbs off her neck, I proceeded to undo the straps that bound her helmet to her. The task required no small amount of punching her in the face just to give me leverage and time, but at last I did it.

I threw her helmet off and looked into her fiery orange eyes. Here was my first look at this infuriatingly stubborn mare. Her long, orange mane had yellow highlights that went rather well with her equally yellow coat. Now, I'll give credit where it's due: she was pretty, very much so actually. If we weren't enemies and she had Myst's personality...

"Get off me you fucking piece of shit! I swear to Celestia I'll tear your nuts off!"

... which was extremely unlikely, I'd have had no shame in saying I would've been wildly attracted to her. But as it was, she was just a troublesome ruffian that I had the misfortune of dealing with.

She clearly wouldn't give up this fruitless fight as long as she was conscious. Also, and I can't stress this enough, her nonstop stream of profanity and insults were really getting old. So at last I pulled her close and, with great glee, butted her in the face with my helmet. She was knocked out instantly, finally laying limp on the floor, her nose trailing blood. I sat atop her, panting.

"Good gods," I said, "Shut up!"

I got up unsteadily, staggering. I walked over to the big hole she'd been firing out of and waved at the legionaries. They immediately broke down their fortifications and rushed over. Some citizens of Road Town cheered.

I sat heavily on the rubble, breathing hard. I glanced at the unconscious mare.

Now for my least-favorite part of any after-scuffle procedure. Interrogation time.

"Alright. Do it," I said, holding a cloth to my bloodied lip.

A legionary stepped forward, and with his helmet dumped water over the mare's face. She awoke, coughing and gagging. Her eyes fluttered for a moment. Then she saw me and her expression turned furious. She lunged.

Of course, she was tied to the wall. Her momentum only served to hurt her as her limbs were yanked back by the ropes (which I'd intentionally tied loosely so's to give her some freedom of movement; too tightly bound and she may have been too panicked to cooperate). She yelped and fell to the floor, panting and eyeing me with a blazing fury.

I sighed and stepped forward, tossing the cloth aside. The legionaries stood on guard just in case her friends showed up. Conductor had arrived with them just so he could take a look at the mare who'd blasted his town apart.

I knelt down and looked into her eyes. My irritation and disappointment in her and her fellows had subsided, dampened by my exhaustion. I just wanted this mission over with.

"I really, really didn't want to have to fight," I told her. "But you left me no choice. I'll be honest. I was sent here specifically to bring your group to the negotiating table. Then I arrive and see you firing away at a town full of people -- of course I had to stop it. But you're disarmed now and that means I can finally try some diplomacy. So... what's your name?"

Unsurprisingly, she resisted. She spat at me, but I'd practiced dodging such a move far too many times before. The legionary behind me clearly hadn't. He staggered back, clutching at his eyes. One of his friends approached, ready to smash the mare's face in with his shield. She shrank back as I stood to meet him.

"That won't be necessary!" I said, holding a hoof to the soldier's chest. He fumed at her. "Just... put that away, alright?"

Reluctantly, he did. But he cast the mare a hateful glare that clearly said, 'One more time, and you're dead.' Of course, the whole thing was just an act. Before we woke her up, I'd instructed the legionaries to act menacing so that my own patient demeanor would stand out -- and as long as the mare's focus was on me, she'd eventually open up. It was basic interrogation strategy.

I turned around and faced the mare again. "Come on, now," I said softly. "What will it take to get you people to talk to me? Here's what I know: all of a sudden, a bunch of pegasi show up in some town and start causing trouble. That the full story or not? I'll be fair. You go ahead and tell me what happened. How's that, huh?"

Somehow, that seemed to placate her. She backed away, her expression less crazed. But as I looked over her I noticed just how thin and unkempt she was. She clearly hadn't had an easy time the past few days -- probably had little to eat and almost no sleep. If all of this havoc had been done out of desperation like I'd been led to believe, then perhaps I couldn't begrudge her too much. Not until I knew just how bad her circumstances were.

She passed a wary eye over us, her gaze lingering on my armor. "Tell me who you are first," she said, her voice now much more timid and soft. Normally, I wouldn't have satisfied such a request -- I was the one in charge here, not her. But given how pathetic she was, stripped of her equipment and tied to a wall, I decided to just play along.

"Me? My name is Goldwreath. And yes, I'm a pegasus. I serve the Legion, the primary regional power in this part of the Roaman wasteland. They aim to reclaim what was lost in the war between our two peoples, long long ago. And I suppose... your own group, from Equestria? That right? I suppose they aim to do the same."

She gave a few tiny nods. "Yeah. You could say that..." She cleared her throat, but said nothing else. As expected. Obviously, she didn't trust us. But she had at least calmed down. Had we taken the more forceful approach to this interrogation, she could very well have kept her mouth shut all the way to the grave. Sometimes you just had be gentle with these things.

At length, she spoke, "Look, uh... there's really no dignified way to put it, so I'll just say it. My friends and I, the other pegasi... we uh, we're... outcasts." She looked up at me with a scowl. "But we're not the bad guys! All we wanted was to change things a little with our government. Make things more fair for everyone. But when you're just a bunch of grunts, what you say doesn't mean shit. You have no power. Still, we were a threat. So we were cut off. Thrown out of our own homes like trash."

She took in a shaky breath, her eyes going red. "And you know, we were okay with that... sort of. We were free to do what we wanted, and for a while things were okay. Supplies were a problem, though. After a few weeks, we started running low on everything from food to power cells. And you're right, yeah we're from Equestria... but, shit, most of that place hasn't got squat. Whatever resources there are are possessed by a few powerful factions, and we're just one squad. So in the end, we just took a risk. Roam was just a day's flight away, but we heard the place was mostly intact. When we saw it, we thought we'd hit a goldmine. Finally, a place we could live in where we could survive and follow our own morals. Unluckily for us, though, we ran out of power. Had to land in that town... and to say that the townsfolk were scared of us, hell that'd be an understatement."

Conductor growled. "You attacked my people and plundered our supplies. Our hard-earned supplies! It was a lot, but it wasn't easy to secure. Do you have any idea how long it'll take us to recover from those losses? My town may as well sell itself just to get by!"

The mare trembled, pulling herself into a little ball. "L-look, I'm sorry. We didn't want to, but-..."

"But you did, anyway," Conductor snapped. He sighed and rubbed a hoof over his face. "If you people were so desperate, you ought to have played it smart. Asked nicely. Of course no one would help you! And why would they, when you point plasma rifles at their faces and fly around, breaking into their homes and looting their possessions? The only difference between you and raiders is that they take joy in doing these things. But the acts are the same, and you should have known better."

A tense silence smothered the next few moments. Oh no, the mare didn't cry. Even humiliated and bound, she just had far too much pride. But she looked away from us and shut her eyes, muffling her throaty sobs.

I turned to Conductor and whispered, "Alright, you've said your piece. That's enough. We'll get your supplies back, or maybe I can ask my lord Vesperius to reimburse you... I don't know. Just... let it go for now."

He grumbled and scowled, but nonetheless gave me a nod. He left promptly to tend to his damaged settlement.

Okay, so I now had much to digest. Quite a lot, indeed. An apparently functioning but dystopian Equestrian government... powerful factions monopolizing precious resources... but I could do nothing about those. The Legion couldn't, not even if it had gained control of all Roaman lands and secured its position. Equestria's problems were its own, and to mean anything, success would have to come from them.

I pulled out the device Vesperius gave me and began typing my report on recent events. The mare had calmed down and was now looking up at me, her eyes full of confusion and sadness.

"So what now?" she asked hoarsely, stifling a sniff.

"Now?" I put the device away and sighed. "Well, now I'm supposed to find the rest of your squad and take you with me to the nearby Legion camp. There the Legion's leader himself would pass judgement. Afterwards? Well, you might spend some time in a jail... or maybe you'd be obligated to make amends through service to the Roaman people."

"Service to the... w-what do you mean?" she stammered. "Like, work for you guys? Go around on jobs and shit?"

"Huh, what? Oh. Well, you know, it's just what could happen. I just brought up the possibility, I can't guarantee it." She looked up at me with an intrigued glimmer in her eyes, though. In fact, her voice hadn't indicated any objection or dismay. "Why? You actually considering it?"

She rubbed her hooves and her shoulders. She pursed her lips, her face contorted by thought. "Well, I... I sure wouldn't mind having something to do... if it meant I could earn enough to, you know, keep my friends alive..."

Oh. She actually was considering it. I didn't think she would... but she was. A slightly pleasant surprise. But as glad as I was at her acceptance of an offer I made (unwittingly), ultimately I wasn't the one to make that call.

"Slow down there," I told her, kneeling down to look her right in the eyes. "Yes, I do suggest you turn yourselves over to the Legion. We're fair, and will treat you with justice and respect. At the very least, you'd be kept alive in our custody -- and that would certainly be better than flying around the land, tearing into settlements and causing destruction just to pilfer a few weeks' worth of supplies. It's just not practical, and it certainly isn't civil. But a job? Earning pay? Ahaha, well... I'll not laugh at you for wanting to earn a keep. But I can't make that call."

"Who do I talk to, then?" the mare pressed, her spirit unhindered.

The legionaries looked to one another, shrugging and otherwise expressing their thoughts in subtle gestures. A few looked disapproving; others snickered. It wasn't their place to speak their opinions on the matter, yes, but given how odd things had become I wouldn't have minded some feedback and advice.

"Uh, I... I, uh..." I cleared my throat. "Well, my lord Vesperius is in charge of the Legion. I suppose, if you're dead serious... you could talk to him."

"Then I will!" she replied eagerly. "Fuck, anything's gotta be better than the agonizingly slow death we're staring in the face right now. And... you keep telling me that we'll be treated fairly. Can you promise that?" the mare asked, a desperate hope in her tone. "See, my group's... we're not doing too well. Not at all."

I shook my head in disbelief, and she frowned. I quickly corrected myself.

"No! No, no. I wasn't shaking my head to tell you I couldn't promise. I'm just having a... a hard time believing what I'm seeing and hearing. A pegasus mare and her friends come barreling out of the blue and raise hell... then suddenly she wants to work for us? I mean, it's good! You want to keep your friends alive by offering your services as payment... I can relate. Really." I took a step back and rubbed a hoof over my face.

"But... promises. I don't want to promise, but I can say some things with near certainly. You will be treated fairly, and my lord Vesperius will at least hear your case. But I can't be sure of your future should you go down this path. You know the wasteland. Probably better than I do, I think. You know death can come any time. If you can deal with that, then the prospects aren't too bleak otherwise."

She looked down at the dirt and swallowed, nodding. Then she glanced to the side and spotted her helmet. "I guess I should get the others, then... give me my helmet?" she requested. I obliged.

She held the helmet in her hooves for a moment. Hesitation was etched on her face. She was about to turn her friends in, without their consent, in order to save them. She could very well lose their friendship... and yet it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She was so different from the loud and cocky mare I'd eagerly beaten up earlier; this was surely the nobler side of her. Even if her fellows would come to hate her for what she did, I promised myself I never would. A traitor, some might call her. But I considered her a hero in her own right. What a hypocrite I would be, after all, if I came to loathe her action of necessity. I'd acted no differently when I needed Marediolanon in the Legion' favor. She had my full support.

At last she put it on, and taking a deep breath, she spoke.

"Hey. Hey, Breezetail? You there? Oh, great! ... yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Calm down there, big guy, calm down." She laughed nervously. "So hey listen... I had to move position. The local guards were starting to get smart. And actually, I found a basement filled with all sorts of useful shit. A whole cabinet full of canned supplies... all of it still good. There's also some spare parts here, too heavy for me to lift alone.

"I'll need your help," she continued, looking straight at me with those big orange eyes. From the catch in her voice, I could tell she wasn't proud of what she was doing one bit. "Actually... I'll need all of you. We might even want to move into this place. There's just... so many surprises here. Nice surprises...

"It's just three blocks west of where you left me. I'll be waiting outside... okay? Yeah. Yeah... bye."

She took the helmet off and wiped her nose and looked up at me with puffy eyes -- clearly going through with that had done a number on her emotions. But she just said, "We should go, quickly."

"You're sure they believed you?" It was a painful question, but one I had to ask.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Alright then." I motioned for two legionaries to untie her. The rest of us filed out and began to move. If we were going to ambush a squad of pegasi, we had to be prepared.

"Here," Skyfire told me, handing me a tiny black oval made of metal with luminous blue lines running over the surface. "You'll need this."

Yes, Skyfire. She'd finally told me her name. In the quiet minutes of waiting we'd spent at the location of her choice, she saw fit to introduce herself. The move caught me by surprise. She'd had to spill her guts regarding her circumstances -- it was information she'd needed to surrender to me, her interrogator, in order to justify her actions in the eyes of Legion authority; authority which, I made clear to her, she would have to operate under if she insisted on staying in the Roaman wasteland. But her name, well now, she could have held that back for much longer. That she chose to tell me at all made me smile inside. At least, it seemed, there was no lingering personal animosity between us. She wasn't my friend, but that could change if circumstances permitted.

I took the object from her. "And this is...?"

She sucked in a breath. "EMP grenade. My last one. When the others arrive, I'll try to bunch them up. Then you just hit the top of that thing, throw it, and then..." She trailed off, hanging her head.

I looked up at the sky. "Look, this whole thing was just a suggestion. You wouldn't be considered Legion enemies just because you won't submit. You can still stop this."

"And then what?" she replied. "I hate what I'm about to do, hell yeah. As if that wasn't obvious enough. But... shit, if we don't get help, we're going to die. You were right -- we can't go around pillaging places just to survive. This land is our home now, whether we like it or not. If we don't find a place here, among all the factions and powers, we'll be easy prey. One squad of pegasi in an unknown land? We won't stand a chance."

"Granted. But why do this? Why not just talk to them, convince them to surrender themselves over to the Legion?"

She smirked sullenly, shaking her head. "Fuck. You know nothing, Goldwreath... tell me, you think I'm stubborn? Hardheaded?"

"Can't be too hardheaded. I knocked you out with one headbutt."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Well thing is, my squad got kicked out of our government for being stubborn. Damn stubborn. I was their newest member... and the least thick-skulled of the bunch, I think. So unless you want to have to pin each of them down one by one and knock them out so you can tie them up and convince them yourself... it just isn't going to happen. They're good people, Goldwreath. Good enough that I was okay with getting exiled just to be with them. They're my family, and I love them. But they're stubborn and always will be. It's that simple."

She looked right into my eyes. "Also, truth be told, I knew we were still screwed even if we got here in one piece. We were just too badly equipped, too badly supplied. And we had no plan. So in a way... you coming over to knock my ass out was exactly what we needed. You've given us an escape. I'm not stupid. It's the best we've got, and if it works as you say it will, we may just get to die free and happy."

Then her eyes hardened, and she stepped dangerously close to me. "But," she said lowly, "If it doesn't... if you're a liar, if my friends and I get made into slaves or tortured for fun... then I'll make it my one and only goal to end you. You will know pain before it is over. Got it?"

I hadn't lied, of course. And I was quite certain Vesperius wouldn't even think of harming them in any undignified way. But just knowing the threat was there, just knowing that she would follow through with it at the slightest fuckup on the Legion's end... well, let's just say I prayed to the gods that all would go smoothly. I nodded.

"Good." Having spoken her mind, she allowed her expression to soften. She even smiled. "I'm glad. Cause you're the first Roaman I've met that seems decent, and I'd hate to have had to tear your head off. You're okay, Goldwreath."

"Er... thanks?" I shook my head. Was it just me or was she warming up to me awfully quickly? At least, unusually quickly considering how we met and what we'd done to each other since. What, just me? Oh, okay.

"But anyway, I really ought to get ready. One mistake here and there'll be a lot of blood. And I'm sure neither of us wants that."

She nodded vigorously. "As if it needs to be said. Go on, then. I'll wait here and... practice apologizing." She gave a half-hearted laugh and a nervous grin. The guilt and anxiety eating away at her must've been enormous.

I flew up to the second floor of a nearby building. One of the eight legionaries was posted here; the others had taken up positions nearby.

The legionary asked me as I approached, "Kill protocol still in effect, dignitary?"

By that he meant the standard procedure of keeping a gun trained on the head of someone you couldn't trust. It certainly wasn't a procedure I approved of, nor was it an order I'd given him. But though Skyfire had turned out to be a much more reasonable and far-thinking mare than I'd imagined, the fact was that she was still very capable of screwing us over. She and all her pegasus friends. So though I didn't like it, I said, "Yes."

He nodded and spoke into his radio, "Alright guys, kill protocol still active. When the pegasi show up, pick your targets. Anything goes wrong, we pop their heads."

I trotted to a nearby window and watched the sky and the streets, hoping that the protocol wouldn't have to be used. All the while we waited, Skyfire just stood there in the middle of the street, head hung low. I'd left her early because I knew she needed time to come to terms with what she was about to do, even if her 'betrayal' would ultimately benefit both her and her fellows. Given time, her friends would appreciate what she'd had to do.

Ah. And speaking of friends...

"Targets approaching from the south, two-hundred meters. They're on the ground, repeat, on the ground." The legionary carefully aimed his rifle out the window.

Indeed, there the pegasi were: cantering from the southern road, clad head to hoof in black armor, green-glowing weapons attached to their sides like great big cannons. They maintained a formation of loose spacing as they moved. Those closest to the buildings kept their eyes open, while those to the rear were jogging backwards to keep sight of their vulnerable flanks. One pegasus, the only one capable of flight it seemed, circled overhead. I counted six in total.

"Okay, one in the air. I've got sights on him," the legionary whispered. Listening to his commentary on picking targets was unnerving me -- no one is going to have to die, I kept telling myself. I prepared the EMP grenade as they approached. One of them called out in greeting.

"Skyfire! Oh, Celestia, you had us worried there." That was the one in front. He broke into a gallop and rushed forward, tackling Skyfire in a big embrace. The others caught up, equally jolly at having met up with their comrade. Seeing them embrace her, hearing them laugh... it made me feel guilty for suggesting this course of action in the first place. I couldn't imagine how it was for Skyfire.

Most of the conversations were too far away to hear, but generally there was lots of cheering and relief. As time went on, I started to notice signs of the terrible condition they were in: most of them moved slowly, weakly, their bodies sagging and limp; others were equipped with weapons that didn't even seem to have any power or ammo; and still, a couple of them didn't have weapons at all, and their armor appeared broken, barely clinging to their hides. I had no about things were as desperate as Skyfire said they were.

As they spoke, one question stood out audibly from the rest of the chatter:

"Hey, Skyfire... where's all your equipment?"

Where indeed. We'd left Skyfire's stuff behind in the APC. At the time, we considered it insurance: without her armor or weapons, she'd have been stupid to try to run away. But now I was wondering if maybe we should have let keep her stuff so's to prevent any suspicion.

Luckily, Skyfire improvised. "Oh, what? Those? I uh, I kept them... in the basement! I started making some field repairs." She pointed at the building I was in. The legionary and I ducked out of sight. "Just over there. Come on, I'll... I'll show you what I found."

I heard them approach. My heart went into overdrive. The quickness with which my face was doused in sweat was astonishing. The metal of the EMP grenade was cold to my hooves.

"Aw yeah, one hell of a find, Sky's! Canned food and other shit, right? Finally. Celestia, when was the last time we even had canned food?" one of them asked -- another mare, and one that, astonishingly, sounded even more brash and cocky than Skyfire. I didn't think it was possible.

"Back at the Enclave," a stallion replied. "Canned beans. Covered in a sweet sauce."

"Shut up! No need to remind me... I can feel my stomach digesting itself," the mare responded. They were right below us now. "So, where's the basement door?"

"Uh, well, y-you know, it's... hidden! Actually, it was electronically locked. But I'm sure that with an EMP grenade, we can open it up."

The Legionary and I locked eyes. In his face was the same pulse-straining anxiety as was in me. It was time. I struck the top of the grenade and tossed it out the window.

Confused chatter came from below.

"An EMP for a door?" the mare questioned. "What? As if we can just pull something like that out of our asses... oh hey, look an EMP grenade! Ain't that just lucky?"

Then an odd noise filled the air, along with an electric blue light that shone into the window. It was as if a thousand wires short-circuited all at once, crackling and sizzling. Six metallic thumps followed.

It worked! I stood straight up and jumped out the window, landing with a heavy thud onto the street. The Legionaries came rushing in from their positions, their rifles ready.

The six pegasi struggled in their defunct power armor, but they accomplished nothing. One saw me approach and threw a fit, actually managing to get up. A legionary raised his gun, but I just shook my head. Though sleek and light-looking, the suits of armor these pegasi donned clearly relied on electronics and gears to enhance movement. The EMP had fried those, locking the joints and servos. These people were no threat like this.

"By Celestia, we're under attack!" That was the one who'd been in the front, the stallion who'd ran to Skyfire. He tried to charge at me, but his movements were restricted to awkward, jerky spasms. He fell down again. "Shit! Now listen here you SoB, you don't have a clue who you're messing with. Captain Breezetail of the Enclave reconnaissance, and you'll have Raptors on your ass if you so much as touch us. Back off, pal!"

I eyed them for a moment, then looked up and saw Skyfire standing a ways off. Her face was agonized, caught between shriveling guilt and choking worry. None of her decrepit friends had noticed her yet. And when they did, and found out her involvement...

I was in no rush to let them realize her actions. For Skyfire's sake, I'd try to keep them in the dark for as long as possible. So I had the legionaries pile them in a heap further away, facing away from Skyfire. Then I bade them radio the APC. Our business here was done.

They fought, of course. They knew not that they weren't in any danger. Even as they were hauled and put in sitting positions on one side of the APC's cabin, they kicked and flailed, and cursed and screamed. Not that any of their struggles really did anything, other than maybe making the whole ordeal all the more traumatizing for Skyfire to watch.

I approached her. "Whenever you're ready," I said softly, and with that I turned and entered the APC. I took my seat alongside the other legionaries (and the recently awoken centurion, who looked in bafflement at the new passengers). Opposite me was the stallion Breezetail. Captain Breezetail. Presumably the leader of this bunch. Now I couldn't see his eyes, but I was sure he was giving me nothing short of deathly, hateful glares.

He said nothing to me; the others were more vocal. Lots of swearing and defiant boasts. Oh, I had no trouble believing these people were harder in the head than Skyfire was. But they shut up when Skyfire entered the vehicle and took a seat next to me, quietly and solemnly. I could almost hear the gears in their heads turning.

"Skyfire?" Breezetail asked. "You... w-what have you done?"

The door to the APC closed shut, and we were on the road. Skyfire was silent to his question. There was nothing to do; I opened up my device and finished my report to Vesperius.

This was going to be a long... long ride.

Entry #8
I'm officially a Professional now. I got through the two-month observation period with the centuria, which means... hell yeah, I'm getting paid for work! Sorry Mom, sorry Dad, but your boy wants to buy his own stuff now.

Unique dialogue options with certain characters; unlocked Legion quests, assets, and rank progression. +1 to Charisma and +5 to Speech.