Chapter 24: Storm Front (Part 2)
There it was…
Staring back at me…
Pleading… begging for rescue…
So close… so far…
In the golden evening sunlight I sat atop Challenger’s battlements, perched just beside the north gate. Breaks in the cloud curtain allowed orange-yellow light to coat the city and even spots of the dusty fields beyond in a rare display of color. I had glimpsed to the glorious spectacle, seeing where the sun itself had become visible as it drew ever closer to the west, where patches and gashes of blue had been sewn into the dreary grey. It didn’t take long for one of those holes to be covered back up as the clouds constantly churned and shifted, expanding their puffy shapes. But as quick as they’d be covered, others would appear, keeping the sun on display for us mere mortals that lived below it. Of course, in any other circumstance, I’d have spent the rest of my day simply laying back and admiring that battle of nature versus nature, sky and sun versus wind and cloud. It would have been a terrific method of recovery for me and Blake, and maybe even Shore too… just resting, watching, together with all of our friends… it would’ve been perfect.
But as it stood now… past miseries drained all the wonder from this wasteland sunset as I studied over the battlefield outside Challenger’s gate… and the battered wagon that lay at its heart. Out there in the dust, not even a five seconds’ flight away, our wagon and all it held rested in its new home among dead ponies, S.E.R.A.F. and Legion alike. Sure enough, as Gunny had explained the previous night, the wagon had indeed lost a wheel, or at least a sizeable chunk of one. The Talons’ new vertibuck, Vulture, had definitely strafed it, as even from the watchtower I could see the large holes that had been punched into the hull along the roof, left behind by the heavy caliber of that aircraft’s miniguns. But the fatal blow had been dealt when the Vulture had ripped off the bottom chunk of the front right wheel. A good third of the wheel had been separated from the rest of it, and now lay on the ground. The wagon itself had tilted because of the precious but front-heavy cargo, not capsizing, but now setting down on what was left of that mangled wheel while its wholly intact rear left tire was lifted off the ground entirely.
And all around that precious vehicle were the scars that had been left behind from yesterday’s fight to the city. To the west of the gate was the wreckage of the Talons’ line that had been established to keep us from escaping to Challenger. There were a whole host of corpses out there, still garbed in their black combat armor, their weapons laying close by, their barrier broken and scattered, and their flak gun that had provided close fire support nothing but a heap of metal, twisted and burned. And to the east, I saw the remaining wreckage of Challenger’s two combat wagons, both destroyed by the Vulture. They left great black scorch marks on the already dead earth, and because of the blast from their destroyed spark batteries, the both of them had been reduced down to their mangled frames. And surrounding them… bodies of Challenger’s soldiers who had come to my defense. There was just as much carnage left behind on their side as the Talons’, but even more so as I followed the trail of bodies out toward the center of the battlefield, flanking the killbox from the north and south.
It was all a very painful reminder of what had been done… and what was just out of my reach…
I had been up here for what must’ve been a good hour or so by now, coming in after spending a good deal of the day with my friends and family. I had managed a good amount of sleep, despite waking up on three different occasions. In all of those moments, neither Blake nor Shore had stirred, and I had only woken to a silent camp… and an unnervingly quiet city. Despite the unease I had felt in all three cases at that silence, and despite the weight of my past, I had been able to rest up until midmorning. It was when I had woken then that I had finally been able to reunite with my baby brother, to speak to him again, and him to me, for the both of us to voice our relief at the other’s survival of that battle outside the city. His day had been marked with frequent naps, perfectly understandable. Even if for an hour at a time, Blake regularly rested his head again, once commenting how much better he slept knowing that I was right there with him. And I had always been more than happy to shelter him beneath my wing, as always.
When awake, we took time to walk together, moving about the camp after a small meal or brief dialogue, paying visits to all of Stable 181’s foals, Blake’s group of friends. All of them had been more than happy to see him back up on his hooves, and some were even curious about his injury. My baby brother, however, had not been in the mood to discuss it with them… and the more motherly side of me caught on in a blink that he remembered that moment when he’d been hit, that moment when his life had once again been put on the brink. It was scary for him, especially since it was the first mortal injury he had ever sustained, and he made that known to those friends of his who inquired.
I was grateful for how understanding they were when he shied away from discussing it.
In the time I’d spent with him, from the morning up to this moment, I felt that all in all, Blake was quickly settling back into his normal self, making a good, swift recovery. Shore however……
Shore was struggling through the day. As soon as I had woken and gotten myself moving, he had finally come to. Needless to say, we all rallied to him when word got to us. But unfortunately, our time with him consisted by and large of watching as Doc Miles’ assistant, a young unicorn mare, checked up on his injuries. Four times that nurse came by today, monitoring our friend’s recovery, taking notes, bringing food and water for him. Her checkups almost wholly prevented us from having any extended conversations, because he only stayed awake long enough to see them through before he fell back to rest. But at the very least, we were each able to share a moment with him to catch up, speak our assurances that we were all okay, as well as our hopes for his recovery. He was glad to see all of us, even Sierra, our newest companion, and it was all he needed – to see us – to rest far more comfortably… or so he assured, anyway.
There was no doubt in my mind that Shore wouldn’t be moving again for a good long while. And though he never said it aloud, something told me that he really hated being incapacitated the way he was. Unable to move, to follow us and stay in the group…… I had a nagging feeling that it would build up quickly to something very frustrating, and would eventually prove difficult to deal with. I know that I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to deal with it. If I’d lost a leg… or worse, a wing… I hadn’t the slightest idea how I’d even begin to cope. But still, his parents were there by his side, both of them still wide awake despite the limited sleep they’d gotten the night before. And I had taken up that same habit out of instinct, of worry for my dear friend. Whenever Shore actually did wake, I was there in a heartbeat, ready to help, ready to listen, ready to just be there for him, and catch a little dialogue in the process, remarks about the city, comments on the emerging sunlight, wishes about being back in Hopeville again…
Between Blake and Shore, I had found all the reasons I needed to stay at camp and continue to relax my mind and body best I could. Now, for the first time this day, I gave myself some alone time so that I could think… think on the past… and the present moment. There was a question that needed answering about the latter today… and only I could answer.
I did answer.
I extended my wings and gave them a little flap, stretching them out as I finally took my eyes off our derelict wagon. Out to the east, it was all quiet, no movement. But I knew they were out there… the Talons… watching and waiting, perhaps circling Challenger with the help of their stealthbucks that they seemed to adore so much. Despite the calm landscape, I had no doubt that things were not as they seemed out there. And Challenger’s leadership knew it too. Ajax’s lockdown was tight and strictly enforced. In my time up here on the wall, I’d not seen a single soul exit the city, and the dozen guards at the gate were still as statues, ever watchful for anypony entering the area, warning away those few civilians who did.
The scene outside, all around, was perhaps the final factor in my decision to that question I’d been given last night. The land – so quiet… the way it should be… but wasn’t. And this city… so quiet… the way it shouldn’t be.
I raised my right foreleg, looking down…
My pipbuck… finally back where it belonged, clasped around my leg firmly yet comfortably. It’s monitor was alive and humming, currently showing me my radio screen, playing the static that still buzzed in a gently grating drone from the radio station that broadcasted to me - Radio Signal Bravo Delta Channel Fifteen Thirty… It was Buckley, trying to speak. I didn’t know it for sure… still had a gut feeling that told me so.
But that radio station, not as important as the pipbuck itself. Because with this device finally back in its proper place, my response to Lieutenant Colonel Ajax this evening was set in stone… my mind was all made up.
I was going to enlist in the S.E.R.A.F. tonight.
I was ready. I was ready to serve, ready to fight, to do better and to be better, to lay my life on the line for this place that had given me and my survivors a second chance. I was ready to go to war… and I was at peace with that decision… I wasn’t going back, and no amount of time between now and when I would approach the Lieutenant Colonel would change my answer. But the time I did have granted me the freedom to take care of some smaller… errands, so to speak. My belongings were back at camp, amidst them a holotape and three memory orbs, all unseen. After a night and day of recovery, I was finding myself in a reunion with my curiosity bump, a meeting that had been a long-time coming.
Besides… I’d had my fill of looking out into the wasteland… knowing my enemy was out there, but unable to do anything about it.
With a sigh I forced myself up to all fours, taking note of how much better my back and my flanks felt now that they had been fully healed; even the bandages had been removed, giving me back the full freedom of motion in walking without that awkward nagging touch they’d given me.
I turned away, thankfully without passing another look to the wagon outside, and focused my sights on the Presidential Palace, visible even from here at the city border. One flap of my wings got me airborne, a smooth and controlled movement that, for the first time in a while, didn’t hurt on takeoff. And after a couple more pulses to get some altitude, I begun the smooth, easy flight over Challenger to get back to the camp. But smooth as the journey was, it wasn’t nearly as pleasant as it could’ve been. Because like with the wagon, past misfortunes faced me down again from the overhead view I now had of the city. Those marks faced me this time as the blast craters left behind from the Legion’s missile strike against the region… and though the Lieutenant Colonel had assured otherwise, the damage to the city infrastructure was heavy.
Before arcing over the border wall between the warehouse and presidential districts of the city, I could see the empty space between a damaged but standing warehouse and the city’s tower crane. Another storage had been there, and I had been informed by a guard that it was the armor and apparel depot had taken a direct hit. One missile from the Talons’ barrage was enough to level the whole warehouse and nearly collapse its neighboring food and water storage. That was the first of six missiles to actually hit the city. Even from here at the north end of Challenger, I could see where the others had landed… I remembered where from the flight about the city I had taken before coming to the gate myself. Four more had hit the residential sector. With that district taking up well over half the city, it was of no surprise really. But the missiles had wiped out a number of apartments… causing the majority of the casualties that had come from the attack. The sixth had landed in Challenger’s military district, where soldiers trained. An armory had been wiped out by that missile, destroying three precious flak guns and much needed heavy weaponry meant for the Fourth Battalion. According to the guards I’d spoken to on the subject, the loss would see to them coming into Ashton underequipped… a very dangerous prospect, but one that they all seemed prepared for.
Or so I hoped…
Goddesses… how it angered me to keep the truth inside…
I was back to the palace lawn a short while later. Our survivors were up and about, though none left the yard. Still, it was good to see ponies moving around, exploring the area that had been given to them, taking in what sights there were. My friends were among the mix somewhere, though I couldn’t find them first thing. Still, mine and my brother’s spot was in the same location, untouched. To my pleasant surprise, I found that the whole site was vacant as I came in to land. Blake had been awake when I left him for my meditation, and was now on the move, likely with the other children. It was uplifting to see that, and simultaneously provided me with the time I needed to sort through my saddlebags undisturbed, to find what I wanted to hear.
I landed smoothly in our designated area, exchanging a brief hello with two passing mares before I turned my attention to my saddlebags. A quick look through both of them, and I opened up the left side pack, digging in and sifting through the items within until I found the first I wanted to hear. Out came the holotapes I’d collected across my whole journey, all three… the tape in the center of the stack was the one I needed, marked with a small indentation on the bottom right corner of the plastic case to tell me it had been unused. And leaving the rest of my belongings in place, I wasted no time in scooping up the tape delicately between my teeth, and then focusing ahead to the Presidential Palace itself. The time was mine, the opportunity was perfect, and my curiosity was at its peak, especially now that I was reunited with my trusty pipbuck. And I wanted to be somewhere quiet so that I could hear whatever this holotape had to say to me.
Without any interruptions from the surrounding ponies, I brought myself back into the air, pushing myself above the camp and then righting my course for the palace. Smooth and easy I climbed higher into the air as I made my way over to the proud metal structure, the heart of the city, unable to keep myself from looking down on the yard and the mingling ponies within as they grew farther away… just for the sake of watching them go about their own recovery… something that was much-needed for each and every one of them.
The roof of the palace was unattended. Of course, all around it, anti-air turrets and their respective crews were positioned on rooftops in tactical locations to protect it. But the roof of the palace was clean… only leaving me to hope that I wouldn’t be yelled at for trespassing. But still, I made my way over the lip of the palace rooftop and landed cleanly. And once situated, I tucked in my wings, turned myself about, and let myself lay down on my stomach, getting comfortable, overlooking the camp from above.
“There’s something about seeing something from the air…” I remarked this to myself with a little smile after setting my holotape down before me, then turning my attention to my pipbuck, looking it over in search of the necessary cable. The tab on the left side of the holotape housed the cord, and flicking it open, I laid out the cable and set my pipbuck down beside the tape, finding the port I needed and guiding the connector to it, plugging it in. With a little chirp, my pipbuck’s screen automatically switched, the radio screen dying away to be replaced with my terminal records display. Everything I’d come across in the wasteland that had once belonged to a computer or recorder was cataloged here, bringing to life a brief trip down memory lane as I scrolled up the menu. Two text logs and one audio recording were at the bottom of the menu, the oldest files which Shore and I had scavenged from the sole terminal in Hopeville’s Ministry of Peace Recruitment Center. Then came the holotape I’d found in the Southeast Regional News Radio Station… M.5-13. Below it – M.5-5… the second tape I’d found, the one in Marefax that shared the same coded name as the first.
And then, highlighted in the menu… the tape I’d found in Stable 181… in Crystal Sunset’s office…
M.5-8
“No… what the hell?” A formerly peaceful mindset was pulled back into the sea of inquiry with a jolt when I saw that name. It was the same name, same code on the two tapes I’d found before. In different corners of the region I’d found those tapes, and the both of them belonged to the same voice, the same nostalgic stallion who spoke passionate words about history, about the old Equestria, the good that had come of it. Both of that stallion’s tapes gave me the same feeling of wistfulness… but also left me with countless questions. And now… now I was looking at a third tape with that same distinct coding…… and if this tape really did belong to the pony I thought it belonged to… the stallion I knew only in voice…
“What are the chances?” I muttered this aloud as I stared at the playback button, my hoof beginning to reach for it.
If it was his……
With a final motion, I brought my hoof to the key and pressed it down, and the holotape activated with a click:
“Have you ever wanted to speak to history – just to know the why of it?”
Goddesses… it was him… it really was him…
“Made a habit of that… For years, history has been the only voice I’ve known.” came the stallion’s mysterious, near-monotone tenor. “After my reawakening, it was the only thing that walked beside me. I cherished it… let it guide my actions… let ancestry give me new life…… History had been my sole companion, within the Legion and without, a voice that was never silenced no matter the missions I undertook, no matter the lives I claimed in the name of the Talons’ great city…… But now… I can’t even hear its voice… not in here.” He spoke soft in this recording, intentionally so, it seemed. But even in his dampened voice, my ears could still hear the tone he spoke with… its air of… mourning… “The stories of loss, of the death of a purpose – those are the voices of our world… merciless, cruel. And here, I see the corpse of another victim… Stable One Eighty-one…”
The Stable… He… he had been at the Stable…
“An idea… sanctuary, the chosen safe harbor of our beliefs, of the values that we so jealously safeguarded, in life and in death… fallen.” This stallion… he’d seen my home… “Years ago… in my youth, I had learned of its history in my travels. Found records in the Stable-Tec Headquarters in the Equestrian heartland, some old terminals inside still functional then.” he said, speaking with that longing tone I remembered. “I learned of its intended purpose, then of its seizure. Stable-Tec had been fighting a war of its own over it. But their war, unlike Equestia’s, was quick and decisive. And when I learned what there was to know… that’s when I saw the symbol that had taken an interest in that shelter, that which Stable-Tec had declared war on and lost to in the final days before the end times. My symbol – my family.” The Stable’s history… he was reciting it… “When I saw the truth of it, when I saw another piece of the Old World still carrying that voice, I answered its call. And when I saw it for the first time… I saw everything that I had seen in my real home… except… it was alive.” That wistfulness in his words was growing rapidly, syllable by syllable… pulling me in… holding me in a vicelike grip. “The souls inside… they carried that spark in their eyes, that long-lost light that was the hope of ponykind. And they welcomed me as one of their own, a wanderer who had left his birthplace behind looking for pieces of his true self, a stranger from the outside… they took me in.”
In that moment… my whole world became his words… In that moment, I found my hoof traveling to my muzzle, my eyes wide the story that was unfolding. This pony… he didn’t just know of Stable 181’s history… he lived in the Stable itself… He had been a resident!
“I lived among them, left the wastes at my back.” he continued, slower, recounting memories. “Only a year… but a year that I still remember. I remember them, the Stable’s ponies… because they still carried that symbol and its virtue with them, in their actions, their lifestyle, their teachings. It was everything good that my ancestors had left behind all in one place, a place that was charged with the protecting of their treasures, the preserving of their bloodlines. It was home to everything that the zebras hadn’t been able to hunt down in their quest for vengeance – honor, hope, the General’s child.” A very wistful sigh came from the reflecting stallion. “For a year, I actually felt like I was home… not as what it is now, but as it had been, what it could have been had it survived the end. In one year, I took in their measure, saw how they lived. It was the Old World I saw in that, the pre-war world, that peace… harmony… that had been dead for one hundred and seventy-five years. And through their generosity, I had been given the chance to learn, to know what that peace was actually like. I got the chance to live as my ancestors once did… and it was the greatest gift I could have ever received… But…” I flinched at the slight hitch in his voice, barely detectable, that brought a very heavy silence in its wake. “But my duty kept me from staying then… no matter how badly I desired otherwise… no matter how many times Crystal asked me to stay on my last day of peace…”
He knew Crystal…
“The flag you wear, she said… I remember… She knew the symbol… said it was her duty to hide it, lock it up… bury the symbols, keep the virtues… But something changed in her when she confessed her remembrance. She told me I belonged here, with her and the rest of the Stable… She wanted me to stay… but I told her what my purpose outside was in reply, told her what I protected… And she remembered that too…… I told her – only we, who made it, lived with it, could keep it safe. And knowing this convinced us both to keep our history to ourselves. But I promised to return, to maybe witness change, only when I was sure that Trinity would remain untouched. And so I left, believing that I would keep that promise…… never did……” And here, the sigh that came through the light static screen spoke nothing but pain… regret… “And when I saw Hopeville, saw its residents, and the shadow that followed them… I knew that Stable One Eighty-one had fallen…… And now I see it again… gutted by the Black Blood… Never once believed that I would see something so beautiful… something so pure… die like this. Trinity’s child, protector of harmony’s virtues… and ours… gone……” But from that anguish came new sudden focus, fueled by a dim but simmering anger that my ears perked at hearing. “Few raiders still live here, two, maybe three dozen at most, maintain some contact with their allies on the surface… all maggots writhing in the Stable’s carcass… I’ve set about exploring the halls and chambers despite their presence here, taking in the measure of its new residents… Seen their atrocities, the apex of their barbarism, as if they took a personal interest in defiling the dead here… and never until now have I questioned the purpose I gave myself when first discovering my history, when I had been given my tribe’s blessing. Never until now have I thought that what I keep secret might very well serve a just cause…… It’s the thought that has stayed with me in these past few hours. Seeing this part of my past, this place that I had loved once… destroyed… I wonder at my purpose… I wonder if I have misplaced myself… set myself on the wrong road in the presence of such evil…” There was another pause here, long enough for him to shift in his place; the coking of a weapon sounded after. “I know that this will linger in my thoughts, battling with my old self… and perhaps soon, I’ll be strong enough to give myself an answer… But first… I’ll cleanse the Stable, show the Black Blood that their actions have set them in my crosshairs… and then I’ll bury my siblings. The others… they deserve to be at rest in this place. They lay in the arms of my ancestors’ final effort to prevail over the world… and themselves… and their souls would be at peace here when the raiders have gone…… but Crystal… Damien…”
Damien… father…… he spoke my father’s name!
“Saw the graves outside, recognized the family in the picture… all of them……”
Goddesses……
“And I know the history in their bloodline, even the parts that Crystal didn’t.” he spoke, unwavering. “But there are no secrets between them now… Seiyara would want to be at rest with her husband, and he with both his wife and his sister…” He… he knew it all! “They would want to rest as a family, such as they were, and always will be… and in honor of those in their line that yet live… I’ll see to it that they are before I walk the road back home.”
The tape clicked to a close… but I was left silent, staring…
I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard…
This recording… what it revealed paralyzed me… One after the next, this stallion who I had heard twice before spoke the names of my family… my family. The Overmare, my aunt… then my father… and then my mother… This stallion… if what he said was actually true… he’d lived in Stable 181… shared his history with Crystal Sunset herself… and in his time behind our door, he’d met my family… all of us……
Me.
He’d seen me and recognized me upon finding what had to have been the family portrait I had left by my parents’ graves, a final token of my undying love for them, and a reminder of who we were, and always would be, even when death separated us. He… he said he knew me… and yet, I had no memory of him. When he had found out about our home, he had traveled miles and miles to find it. When he did, he had been welcomed… and sometime in the year that he had stayed… he found me. Of course, remembering the sole pegasus in a Stable of earth ponies and unicorns was no difficult task if one’s memory was good enough. But even then… this… was something far more significant than that. It was such enough seeing as how I could not even begin to guess when this stallion had come to One Eighty-one, nor could I even think back so far to remember if I’d ever spoken to a pony like this one. All I had was a voice to go on, in that case. But more important than all of that, here and now… was the fact that I’d heard this buck speak before in the recent past.
This was the third log in a row that I’d found belonging to the same voice. Unintended… I was on the trail of this stallion, uncovering pieces of his history… and with the way it encompassed me now…… his story… this was becoming personal. Now I was noticing a constant theme. This stallion was very meditative, sentimental, knowledgeable, and focused, and it was most definitely the case that Equestrian history held the greatest weight with him. I had heard all of this in both his prior tapes, the first when he buried an ancient skeleton for the sake of mourning the soul who it had once belonged to, and the second when walking the dead streets of the southeast’s metropolis – Marefax. He held a love for the past, it seemed, not recent, but very much pre-war, along with everything that had come from that great era of harmony. But now, amidst all his talk about the great Old World virtues, the tragedy of the Equestria’s war with zebras, and his own history… I myself was a part of his reflections, me and my family, my home.
In his previous tapes, he’d left me with many questions, most of which went unanswered. But after hearing his third tape… I had only one question this time…
Who was this stallion? He knew me… my family… my history… my home…… In this log alone, he revealed to me that he had once been a Stable resident, thereby knowing all that we knew, all that we lived by… and he showed that he too was affected by One Eighty-one’s fall…
So who… who was he that knew so much about me, while I knew nothing about him?
As I was staring, lost in my thoughts yet again, a sudden movement below my perch caught my eye, disrupting those thoughts to force me to look. Our camp was built with two exits, one to the west, and the other to the east. The latter of them was where this new batch of activity caught my eye, and upon squinting to look closer, I found where Challenger soldiers were making their way through, two unicorns flanking an earth pony garbed in a dark green duster. Even from here, I could see the gentle glinting of the pins clipped to his shoulders, and I could recognize his colors too, the pale white of his coat, and the dark brown of his mane and tail.
The Lieutenant Colonel…
It was perhaps the one thing that could’ve pulled me out of the trance that this third holotape had put me in, the one pony that could’ve cured the shock that had been given me by the words I’d heard. At Ajax’s presence here, I was set on the most important path, my focus brought back to the question that needed answering… the answer I was ready to give… It was time to enlist in the Southeast Regional Armed Forces.
As I rose back up to my hooves, quickly unhooking my newest holotape from my pipbuck and scooping it up carefully between my teeth, I took a quick look over the Lieutenant Colonel and his two soldiers. Already the three of them were mingling with some of the survivors, and I could see pointing hooves, turning heads, searching. “I guess Ajax isn’t one to waste time.” Despite the nervousness I was feeling at the coming question, hearing it from him personally, I couldn’t help but cast a little smirk to the ponies below as I stretched out my wings in preparation to dive. There was just something about the scene below that made me all the more ready to give the answer… and with that encouragement, I pumped my wings and jumped to throw myself off the roof of the palace, diving right in for them.
It didn’t take me long. And as soon as I leveled out low over the ground, I saw those nearby Challenger’s military leader making way so that I could land. And as for Ajax himself – his eyes were on me the rest of the way. We watched each other as I guided myself in, even when I arced up, backwinging to slow my pace and settle into a hover over the clearing that had been made for me. And the officer greeted me with a small smile as I lowered myself down and landed. “Ah, just the mare I was looking for.” he said, dipping his head as I tucked my wings against my sides and set down my holotape at my hooves. “You have a restful evening?”
“Yes, sir.” I responded, bowing my head in turn. “I’m very grateful for the time you gave me.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Ajax replied with a little nod. “Manage to check up on everypony?”
“Yes… I’m glad to say my brother’s doing well. And Shore is too, all things considered.” I answered with a half-smile.
“And you, Nova?”
I nodded my affirmative. “Yes. I’m feeling a lot better today. I’ve gotten my time to think and meditate and… just relax… You picked a good time to show up.”
And at that, a little amused huff escaped him as he nodded. “I was hoping I did.” he replied. “You must know why I’m here, then.”
“I do.”
“I’m taking my last roll call today, tallying up the forces I have to command.” he said, that serious tone I’d heard in him the previous night taking the reins, telling me to listen carefully. “I’ve been making the final preparations today for the operations I have planned tomorrow… and not to put you in the spotlight, but your involvement will force me to alter my strategies. So today, now that I’ve given you your time, I need to know if you’re in this with us.” My guess was that, at this point, he would have gone on about how he didn’t want to pressure me into all this, how he didn’t want to seem like he was forcing me to leave my group in the service of Challenger. Maybe he would have, maybe he wouldn’t have. But at this point, I knew where I wanted to go… and I knew the why of it.
I was ready.
“I’m with you.”
The Lieutenant Colonel fell into silence, looking me in the eyes and nowhere else, both he and his two soldiers studying me, taking in my declaration. “Just like that?”
And confident as I could be, I nodded. “Just like that.”
And slowly, he nodded, accepting my answer… sealing the deal. “I’m glad to hear that, too, Nova.”
“I want to serve.” I asserted. “Just tell me where I start.”
With that, Ajax looked back over his shoulder to the unicorn by his left flank. “Corporal. If you would, please.”
“Yes sir.” Right away, the soldier’s horn flickered to life with a gentle light, and on his combat armor, a pocket on his chest plate opened up. From there, three items floated up into view, and he hovered them before me side-by-side so that I might take a good long look. Two small pins of polished silver, each forged into the shape of a single chevron, drifted on either side of a rectangular black patch… a patch I’d seen before. The white letters embroidered into the fabric spelled out the name of Challenger’s army, the S.E.R.A.F.. And the pins… I had a feeling that they designated a rank, the rank that I’d enter the army with.
“If you’re ready to serve, then I’m ready to give you these.” As the unicorn soldier set these items at my hooves, the Lieutenant Colonel spoke his own declaration, doing so as I brought the very edge of my hoof up to the patch, tracing the fabric. “These pins will tell all those you pass in these streets and out in the battlefield that you are an ally of Challenger, and a soldier in its army.” As he spoke up again, I was drawn back to him, where I found him staring me down with those intense brown eyes. “Fellow soldiers will take you in as one of their own now, and officers will see you as a faithful subordinate fighting tooth and nail for this land. And with these pins comes your patch, which will show not just your allies, but also your enemies, who you fight for in this struggle. With all three of these, you will no longer be a wastelander, or a civilian, or an innocent bystander. You will become part of something greater, a part of a powerful army, a growing city, and the region that it protects. You will officially be a soldier in the Southeast Regional Armed Forces.”
And wordless, I nodded my understanding, just before a hoofstep behind me caught my attention. I looked over my shoulder at the proceeding sounds of gathering ponies… and I saw my friends taking the lead of over a dozen more curious onlookers. Gunny – he already wore his new symbols, the S.E.R.A.F. patch clipped to his chest plate, pins secured to his shoulders. Sierra was next to him, free of her power armor, long mane stirring in the breeze as she watched on with calm attention. And on Gunny’s other side, both Ivy and Raemor were looking on with their own curiosity as other Hopeville residents gathered to see this – my initiation. And with them behind me, I felt all the more heartened as I faced the Lieutenant Colonel once more. “I’m ready, sir.” I said; this time, nothing held my confidence back.
“Well then, Nova,” And with a nod, “on behalf of Challenger and President Radiant Gem, I welcome you to the S.E.R.A.F. You’re one of us now.”
*** *** ***
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
The air…
The air was tainted. As far as my eyes could see, the same colors meshed together in a sickly display, which was further defiled by the swirling dust that spun and danced in a thin unbreakable screen. Dark green coated the very air, unchanging beneath a sky of grey, near-black clouds. And underhoof, the dirt was dark and crusty, all brown, the color of dead soil. Not a single blade of yellow grass rested before my eyes. Only the turning sand shifted, ripped up from the cracked and torn surface by a powerful wind that blew against my back and right side as I walked onward, guided by the sight of a cluster of boxlike objects on the horizon, jutting out from the otherwise flat landscape.
Behind me was the flapping of a long-coat, the heavy duster tugging against me as it was pulled by the wind that tried to take it from me… or rather… my host.
I looked through the eyes of a mare, watching with her as she focused on that point a few hundred yards ahead. From this distance, I couldn’t make out any traits of what lay ahead. But this mare who I was seeing this moment through – she didn’t turn away from them. She was dead set on reaching them, as if on a mission to discover them. Even with the sky darkened to near pitch black ahead of us, even when a startling bolt of lightning lashed down from on high and struck the earth, casting a brilliant flash before a clap of thunder raced across the sky… even with all of this, she… we… didn’t turn away. We were walking on dead ground, and ahead of us, all around, a storm was in the making, violent and powerful. Yet there was only thunder and lightning, wind and sand… no rain. It was warm too, not like the normal temperature of the southeast, but hotter.
Suddenly, I coughed… we both did together, a series of racking notes carried on a shockingly brittle and pained voice. And as we coughed, our eyes came back open just in time to see a plume of green haze drifting away from us, disintegrating in the gust.
“Oh… curse this coughing…” My host’s first words, raspy as she looked back up from the ground and to the objects in the distance. We were making steady progress, even at a walk, and after another couple minutes, we were closing in on the site my host wished to get to. Now, those objects were beginning to take more discernable shapes… the shapes of wagons. One of them… I could see one that looked like a small two-wheeled cart, perhaps a supply carrier of some kind, sitting low to the ground as if it were sunk into the dirt. There was a much larger wagon with it, definitely a pre-war passenger vehicle. But this bus was outfitted with an enhancement, an old mounted gun turret on the roof. And even from our distance from it, I could see how the weapon had aged into uselessness, the barrel of what was once a fifty caliber machinegun now bent down, the body it attached to warped through many years of weathering.
But as my host drew ever closer, I was beginning to see some finer details. There was debris around the wagons… scattered and tossed. Shattered boxes, rusty hooflockers, small metal crates, all breaking down with nopony coming to claim them. As we drew closer and closer, more and more of these containers came into our sight, along with a third wagon hidden behind the larger of the first two. It was another wagon like the passenger vehicle, though a little smaller all around, and unlike the larger one, was missing three of its four wheels, each one rotted down to splinters. But shortly after seeing this, I noticed something else about the area we were approaching. What caught my attention here was the number of broken wooden planks that were scattered all about the area behind those three wagons, ranging from whole boards to little bits and pieces. Worn metal beams and bent plates were thrown into the mix, and there was even a wheel jutting out from the dirt, partly buried under the constantly churning dust and sand.
“Wreckage…” Suddenly, my host spoke up in that same aged, raspy voice, still watching as we drew near those derelict wagons. “I know I haven’t seen you before…” My host was driven onward by the sight of what was indeed a field of wreckage. Those three wagons sat undisturbed in the midst of a whole mess of rotted, rusted-down remains… and from this closer distance I could see other shapes peeking out from behind those three wagons we’d already seen.
It wasn’t much longer until we stepped hoof into the mess. At the flash of another lightning bolt and the consequent rolling thunder, we came to a stop at the edge of this new site, beholding even more ruin ahead of us. Past those first three wagons… there was a whole line of twisted metal husks, rusted down and collapsed in on themselves with their age. They numbered seven in total, all fallen into various states of decomposition, the earth swallowing them up piece by piece, inch by inch. Three more of these were smaller passenger wagons, four-wheeled civilian transports once built for everyday use. One of them, despite its age, even maintained patches of yellow and black coloring along its crumpled hull – a taxi. There were two more small cargo carts in the mix too, both of them demolished beyond use. And the last – a larger wagon, with what parts of its hull not completely rusted over painted with a dark coat of black paint. Atop this wagon were two gun turrets, another wrecked HMG, and the bulkier mass of what I recognized as a grenade machinegun, despite its misshapen body.
“Oh my…”
But my host and I – we saw something far worse than mangled wagons and scattered cargo. There were bones… pony bones… One skeleton was right in front of us, its brittle frame broken apart and strewn about… its skull facing us. And beyond it…… more bones. Skeleton after skeleton, following the path of this ruined wagon train…
A graveyard…
“Is this what happened to you?” my host ventured, hushed to the point where I almost didn’t hear the words over the blowing wind. Even the grating in her voice couldn’t hide the shock she was going through at the sight before us. And after a very uncomfortable pause, in which the gale grew more powerful, as if charged by the echoing thunderclap that rolled in from the near pitch black clouds ahead, my host dared to take one step ahead, one step closer to those ancient skeletal frames…
She stopped… we looked down to her foreleg that remained poised over the ground… her mangled foreleg… skin peeling back and falling apart… bare flesh visible in great unhealthy stretches of tight and hardened meat… patches of dead, matted dark yellow hair the only traces of what might have once been her natural color… And a wicked split down the front of the leg, from which smaller cracks spider-webbed off of it, emitted green haze that blew away in the wind, its source the glowing sickly light burning from within the very flesh.
Yes… this was Mother Shimmer who I was seeing this event through.
“Is this what became of you, children?” With great care, Shimmer and I took our first steps into the wreckage, passing the first skeleton and then maneuvering around another, our eyes looking from wagon to wagon, passing quick glances to the dead here in between. And as she made her way into the center of the ruined convoy, I was unable to keep my vision from going dark as Shimmer closed her eyes. I felt as we came to a stop yet again, and a pained sigh escaped into the air… I could feel the tension welling up… like she was bracing for something. “Show me your symbol… children…” She spoke with a… a sort of reverence… respect. But there was a great deal of stress in her voice too, of worry, uncertainty… “You tried to help me long ago… willingly put your own lives in danger not knowing what I was becoming… And for years… I wished that I had not run away from you…” There was even a hint of wistfulness… a dash of regret that peaked in her last sentence, enough for me to hear it. “Answer my question… Show me… your symbol…”
She opened her eyes again, taking one more step before the world begun to blur. And as she moved deeper into the wreckage to find her answer, I only slipped further and further away until I was swept back up in the embrace of darkness… pulled away from Mother Shimmer’s ancient memory.
<-=======ooO Ooo=======->
In a flash, a barren landscape under a dark stormy sky was replaced with the forms of Hopeville’s survivors and the much less intimidating darkness of night. Gusty winds were replaced with the light voices of mingling ponies among our camp in the quiet yet restless city of Challenger.
Like the first time I’d been ejected from a memory orb, I came back to the real world with a jolt that elicited a short, sharp gasp from me as my own senses and my ability to move returned. And like then, I found myself making quick darting glances around me… reminded for a brief, unpleasant second of Bolt and his assassins. But instead of a threat, I found only the faces of my companions… all of them assembled close together in our own little social circle.
That’s right… it was about time for dinner.
That’s what all the voices were on about, all the activity – there was a rations wagon parked out in the palace yard, a half dozen S.E.R.A.F. soldiers setting up a makeshift booth from wooden crates and passing out preserved foods to those still waiting in line. From here, I could see little Melody and her parents out at the front of the line; they received three unlabeled aluminum cans, one of the soldiers shaking each one individually and then speaking to the three with a smile… one that Melody shared as she watched the unicorn stallion with interest, a bottle of water standing beside her hooves.
“Dinner’s ready whenever you are.”
I was drawn back to my friends when Gunny called for my attention. The big unicorn was laying down right across from me, watching me as he himself lowered Honor and the bowie knife’s sheath to the ground in front of him. On his right, Ivy was laying down, waiting for the rest of us while looking to our own stock of food for the night as Raemor set can after can down in the middle of our ring.
“Six cans of preserved foods, three water bottles.” Sierra announced the tally of our collection from her place by my left, resting between myself and Ivy. “A very generous offering considering the circumstances this city faces.”
With a little groan I stretched myself out before reaching up to remove my recollector from its place atop my brow, pushing it off and catching it before carefully setting it down at my hooves, the twinkling memory orb in its socket facing me. “Yes it is.” I remarked, blinking full awareness back into me before taking a peek at our dinner for myself.
“How are you, Nova?” Then, right beside me, I heard the tired voice of a pony most dear to me. Blake was already laying down by my right side, already looking to me when I turned to find his heavily bandaged self.
“Hey there, baby brother.” I greeted in reply, a smile quickly coming to me at seeing him up. “I feel pretty good seeing you here to join us for dinner.”
A little smile came to him too as I reached over and bumped my muzzle against the side of his face. “I’m feeling better now… a little wobbly and still pretty tired… But I don’t hurt like I used to.”
Good. Goddesses that was the best news I’d heard in a while. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, Blake.”
“I think we’re all starting to feel a bit better.” Gunny piped up. “Even Shore’s looking a little more comfortable now. If he wasn’t sleeping I would’ve had us all over there to eat with him.” I nodded, unable to keep back a frown. “My plan is to see if we can’t get breakfast in with him before we ship out tomorrow, though.” my friend added hopefully. “I know we’ll be staying local for at least a couple days, but I still don’t want to miss the opportunity before we all end up on the other side of the region.”
And I hoped the same… especially with the knowing that all of us here, minus Blake, had chosen to enlist in Challenger’s army. After I’d voiced my final decision to the Lieutenant Colonel, Gunny and Sierra, who made their choice before I had, approved my decision by joining me as Ajax gave us his first orders. But after, Raemor added his name to the roster, and Ajax was more than willing to look past his age and present to him his own pins and S.E.R.A.F. patch. Though I kept it quiet, I knew the hidden reason as to his decision, and even though I knew his wish to stick with the rest of us was genuine and untarnished, I also understood that he still had his own mission to fulfill… his own bad dream to deal with… and the opportunity was a wide open gate for a chance to do just that. And finally, Ivy too decided to enlist, voicing her desire to do her own part to help out by being out on the front lines with us, the ponies who she now called her friends. To me and Gunny, she wanted to repay the chance we’d given her at a new start, how we’d spared her from execution because of her poor decision to join the Black Blood. She wanted to serve with us because of that. And to Raemor, and even Sierra, she said that she was glad to have met the both of them, and would love nothing more than to be by their side just as much as mine and Gunny’s. All four of us were equally happy to have her, and happy that she felt the way she did toward each of us.
The one sad truth that came from all this, however, involved dear Shore. With all five of us taking the oath to serve, I knew without an iota of a doubt that Shore would have signed on with us if he could have. But plain and simple, he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long time. His wound would take much more time to recover from, and learning how to walk again would add a great weight to the sentence of immobility he’d been condemned to. It was a hard subject to talk about, hard to bear, seeing one of my dear friends like that. Hell, there had even been one time during the day when Shore had actually been awake that the very subject had been brought up (from me of course). It wasn’t hard to show my guilt on the matter. But like the friend that he was, he mustered all his strength to keep me from going so far as to blame myself for his misfortune. With us being to ourselves, with no Challenger ponies to overhear us, I had come out with my reasoning behind my self-blame, reminding him about Guardian and about how desperately they wanted me back in their custody. And yet still, he didn’t see it the way I did, and the two things that made me actually think his way, and the way of all my friends – he reminded me of where it all began… where it truly began…
Blackhawk and his quest for revenge… Shore called it petty, the death of that griffin’s wife by my guns insignificant. In his eyes, this whole Goddess-damned mess began when Blackhawk took Gracie from us, sneaking that revenge quest into his mission to capture me by killing her. And only after making me witness her execution did he succeed in his real job, shackling me to the Talons’ banner. That was a hard hit to remind me of Gracie like that. But Shore used that as his way of telling me that this really wasn’t my fault… and this time I… actually listened. In the end, he’d believed the big picture was that the Talons needed me to unlock a weapon that they in turn unleashed against their enemies, my friends. This was obvious already. But now that I was free from them, they wanted me back with no small amount of desperation. General Vance had plans for me, and in our discussion, all of my friends now knew that when I recounted my imprisonment. Had I not been rescued when I had been… well, I dreaded to think where I might’ve ended up, or worse… what else I might have been needed for. And when I had gotten to thinking about it, Shore went one step further by reminding me of somepony else who had spoken those words to me… somepony who he knew had a different effect on me than anypony else.
Archer had tried telling me the same things, about how it wasn’t me who was to blame for Buckley, for Guardian, that the choice I made was a choice that nopony should have had to make, and thus a choice that nopony should be blamed for except for the Talons themselves. That was when I’d heard it before – back in Buckley. But I hadn’t been inclined to listen, to believe that I was a victim and not a perpetrator… or at least not a willing one. In the end of all that… I felt guilty about how I’d left that pegasus then… turning my back on him… when all he wanted to do was to get through to me… make me feel better… make me see the reality of all this.
I wasn’t wholly sure about it all yet…
I’d heard a lot of this before, in some fashion or another. Then, like now, I wasn’t wholly willing to believe what the others did. I couldn’t let go of my blame, couldn’t see past it… not entirely. But at the same time, I believed that I was starting to open up to those opinions I once refused to acknowledge. And with that… I was beginning to tentatively feel that I wasn’t the villain here… at least, not entirely; a voice carrying that message was emerging with a will to fight for my attention. There was no denying the fact that I’d still made the choice between Blake and the whole region. I chose to keep the last of my blood family alive over keeping Guardian sealed. And the consequence – Buckley’s terrible losses, Challenger’s own loss of life, the situation at Ashton. I chose to end hundreds of lives for the sake of one. That was something I’d have to live with for the rest of my days. What was in the past was done, and there was no going back; but I wasn’t going to let go of Blake.
In the end… I felt I was a little closer to accepting my friends’ views… Maybe it was that enlisting in the S.E.R.A.F. was going to be my way of finding it. Maybe it was that I would fully understand in the fires of war… And at that, I couldn’t help but be a little amused in my own personal thoughts, a silent chuckle echoing in my head as I thought aloud, “No more little skirmishes… a real, actual war…”
“So what was in that memory orb you looked through, Nova?”
The subject changed, diverting me from my former thoughts to bring my attention to Ivy and her curiosity. She was looking my way when I found her, genuinely interested. And along with her, the others were also looking for an answer, even Gunny as he situated one of the cans in front of him, bringing his knife blade up in preparation to open it up. “It was one of the memory orbs that Mother Shimmer gave me before we left Buckley.” I responded, passing a quick look down to the recollector before me. “I finally got the guts to go ahead and watch it.”
“What was it about?” Ivy questioned.
“It was a memory from Mother Shimmer’s perspective, back in her days of wasteland exploration.” I explained. “I have no idea when or where the memory had taken place, but it was of her finding this wrecked wagon train out in the wasteland. She was walking into this nasty looking thunderstorm and found it.”
“I thought all those memory orbs you found for her came from her old farm?” Gunny chimed up in question, digging his bowie knife carefully into the top of the first can of our dinner.
“Yeah, they did.”
Pausing in his effort, he looked up to me to ask, “So not all of them were pre-war memories then?”
I shook my head in reply. “No, I bet they all were. But something tells me that she created this one herself… or, well, with the help of a unicorn who knew that kind of magic.” I shrugged at that. “When, I don’t know, but even if it wasn’t one she created herself… she’s been alive for so long, who knows who she’s met out there, what friends and enemies she made, what kinds of travels she’s had before settling down in Buckley.” I couldn’t help but cast a little smile at the thought of that. “She’s probably got a story of her own that would take days to tell, maybe even weeks.”
“Hm. I would agree.” Raemor put in with a half-smirk of his own. “Her own age and her own wisdom makes even me look like a youngster.”
“So what else was in that memory?” Blake asked after.
Though I gave it a little thought, rushing myself through a quick replay of what I’d gathered from Shimmer’s memory, there really wasn’t much else to say about it. I explained to my little brother about the wreckage I’d seen, the various carts and both civilian and military wagons that had been mixed in. And though I spared him details about the skeletons, I was reminded of something that was one of the more significant aspects of the memory, that being what Shimmer herself had said in the time of that memory. “Like I said, the memory was from Shimmer’s perspective. And close to the end of the memory, she began speaking… and what she said gave me the impression that she was tied to this convoy somehow. I’d be shocked myself if I actually figured it out, but in her many years, it could very well have been that she actually was a part of, or at the very least, came across that convoy in the memory before it had been destroyed. That was definitely interesting.”
“I suppose that wouldn’t wholly surprise me.” Raemor remarked, listening curiously.
“But other than that, the memory itself was very short…” I concluded. “There wasn’t a lot on that thing.”
“You might be interested to know that your pipbuck starting chirping when you were in that memory, Nova.” My ears perked at Sierra’s sudden claim, my eyes darting to her. “It was actually just a few seconds before you came back from it.”
“Really?” Having kept the device equipped throughout the day, I looked down and turned my right foreleg to bring up my pipbuck’s monitor. And sure enough, the display was now turned to my pipbuck’s larger map, showing me every location in the region that I’d discovered since leaving the Stable. Simply by looking at it, I could piece together the order in which each icon had been uncovered, recreating my path over the single month that I’d been on the surface. But amidst the digital squares… there was one icon, and the name below it, that was something I knew wasn’t there before. Due east and slightly south of Challenger, this new icon was the farthest point in that direction… and my pipbuck designated it as the very same location I had just seen from the eyes of another.
Convoy Wreckage
“How do you suppose that happened?” I asked aloud, distant as my eyes stayed locked to that little symbol.
“You’re getting information off that memory orb, even if it’s in a more unique way.” Gunny put in, opening up his fourth can with his knife. “Since you’re learning about whatever a memory orb contains, and in this special case, seeing it yourself through another’s perspective, I reckon that’s enough for your pipbuck to peg it on your map.” He gave me a little shrug as he set the can aside. “That’s the best explanation I can come up with. All that technology crap is way beyond me.”
“That would make sense.” Sierra responded to him as I let myself listen in to the ensuing conversation. “Nothing about you is changing when you’re in a memory orb, right?”
“Right.”
“So you got an imprint of the memory and in this case, it’s a location.” Ivy chimed. “That’s actually rather interesting.”
“Do you think you’ll visit that place?” Blake asked me.
But to that, I couldn’t give a surefire answer… only because of my enlistment. “I don’t really know, little brother.” I answered him. “I’m going to be pretty busy come tomorrow.”
“Yeah…”
“Well, that memory’s interesting and all, but every word is making me hungrier at the moment.” Gunny’s polite complaint was our dinner bell, all of us turning to him as he began cutting open the final can. “We’ve got some good stuff here tonight, and I’m more than ready to dig in.”
Yeah… I’d say it was about time to get some food in me. I was going to have a long day tomorrow… and in the days after. For that, I could put my newest discovery behind me for a little while. “Good idea. Let’s eat.”
“The gravy train’s given us one can of red apple slices, two full of leafy greens, two cans of corn, and one of celery slices.” Gunny explained, setting the final opened can at his hooves. “Who wants what?”
I cast him a little smile as I looked over our rations. “Oh, I’ll just take whichever’s left.”
To that, Gunny uttered a light chuckle. “Of course.”
“Could I have the apples, please?” Blake asked. “I haven’t had apples in a while.”
“Sure thing, champ.” And Gunny levitated the designated can over to my little brother, who smiled as it came to rest before him.
“If nopony else wants them, I’ll be more than happy to claim the celery.” Raemor said, having already secured the desired food in his telekinesis, though not taking it away. Only after our collective assurances did he bring it over to him.
“Give me the corn.” Ivy claimed, scooping one of the remaining cans up with a smile. “I love the stuff.”
“I’d like one of the greens, please.” Sierra added quickly, to which Gunny passed out the respective cans to their owners.
“Nova? What do you want?” our server asked, turning his head to me with only two cans left.
“You go ahead and pick one.” I encouraged, gesturing a hoof to him before crossing my forelegs in front of me. “Go ahead.”
“You first.”
“Oh, don’t start.” I chided, unable to keep myself from smirking.
“Just pick one.” Gunny retorted with mock sternness.
“We’re not arguing about this, Gunny.”
“Oh but we are.” he replied, grinning with me.
And to that I huffed a sigh of surrender, rolling my eyes. “Oh fine… I’ll have the greens.”
And satisfied, he sent the promised food my way, setting it before me. “There, was that so hard?” he asked, smug with his little victory.
“Hush.” And to my satisfaction, a light round of laughter went through our circle.
“Nova!”
Suddenly, my name came rushing to us from beyond our sanctuary, making my ears perk and my smile fade in a flash as I looked to the source. Coming in from the south, farther into our camp, I turned just in time to be caught by surprise by two beams of light, bright enough to force me to turn away, squinting to protect my eyes from the two flashlights that settled over me. Thankfully, as quick as they had come, they vanished for me to see the materializing forms of two Challenger guards, two unicorn bucks fully clad in their camouflage combat armor with battle rifles slung over their backs. “Sorry about the light.”
“You’re alright.” I assured, blinking away the last of the lingering distortion to get a good look at the two guards. And as they came to a stop at a respectful distance, my companions turning their way, “Can I help you?”
“We’ve been looking for you to deliver a message.” the guard on the left answered me, making me cock an eyebrow quizzically.
“A message?”
“Not but a quarter hour ago, a pony came through Challenger’s gate from the outside.” the second guard explained. “As soon as medics patched him up he told the Lieutenant Colonel that he was looking for you.”
“He’s insisted that you meet him personally.” the first guard added after.
Somepony was looking for me?
“Who is he?” I asked curiously.
“A pegasus stallion, of all things. He introduced himself as Archer.” the second responded; my eyes popped round. “According to Ajax, he said he knew you… And judging by that look you’re giving, I’d say that’s true.”
Archer… he was here in Challenger??
A quick sweeping glance over my companions, and I saw looks of recognition from all of them; each of them remembered that name just as quickly as I had. “Yeah… yeah, I know him.” Putting all else aside in my alarm, I rose up quickly to my hooves, already fanning out my wings. “Where is he now?”
One of the two unicorns pointed a hoof out past me and to my right. “He’s out on the street just behind you. Fly over the fence, hook left, and he’s at the north gate between the presidential and warehouse districts.”
I turned around to look over the designated dirt road, my eyes already scanning for any signs of the steel-blue pegasus. Even with the number of lanterns lining the road at regular intervals, I couldn’t see him from here; he must’ve been farther out. “Okay, uh… thank you both for telling me.” Looking over my shoulder, I gave the guards the thanks they deserved, the both of them nodding together before turning about and heading back the way they came toward their next errand. And at their departure, I looked instead to my assembled friends, seeing each of their eyes now on me. For a moment, I hesitated, my wings coming back in part way, but staying open. “Um…” I couldn’t help but shuffle a bit, feeling a little uncomfortable at departing right before our dinner… even if it wouldn’t be for too long. “I’ll uh… I’ll be right back…”
But Gunny was the one to wave me onward, motioning with a hoof for me to head on out and find our friend from Buckley. “Go on ahead, Nova.” he assured, Raemor nodding at his place while Ivy and Sierra and Blake only watched on with their own curiosity. “We’ll be waiting right here for you.”
With that, I turned promptly to the gate, bringing my wings back out wide and bracing to launch. With a single thrust, I got myself airborne, beating up quickly to get myself over the palace fence. Then I broke from my hover and put on the speed to get out over the street, turning west. From here, the gate wasn’t far at all, no more than a hundred or so yards. From here to there, a total of eight hanging lanterns dimly illuminated the road and the sparse civilian traffic that occupied it, along with the occasional guard on their night patrol. However, in my search for Archer, I was becoming more and more puzzled as I drew in closer and still didn’t find him… or not until I begun to slow myself, checking the approaching gateway with a more careful eye. Two civilians were crossing the threshold from the warehouse sector to the presidential, a young couple by the looks of it. Past the young mare and stallion, a single earth pony guard armed with a dual carbine saddle made her way through, moving towards the warehouses on her patrol route. And past her…… a figure standing at the edge of the light cast by the lone lantern hanging on the gateway’s left side, looking down the road and towards the palace fence that was visible behind the nearby corner building. As I settled back into a hover, eyes locked to that pony below, I found one item after the next that only served to confirm who it was I now saw. The pony was equipped with every piece of gear to his name – a full rig of light armor whose blue and black color scheme I could see in the lantern light, a pair of saddlebags, a battle saddle made of two semiautomatic rifles, three-o-eight scopeless… and a larger rifle secured over the pony’s back… fifty caliber.
And just a second later, at the end of my observations… that pony turned up, looking right at me… showing me his face as was revealed by the hanging lantern.
“Archer… it really is you.”
I didn’t shout to him, didn’t call for him… only said his name as I beheld that familiar face, those hazel eyes, from my place above. But from the surface I heard my own name carried on the wind when the pegasus below responded to me. “Hey, Nova.” Focusing on my wings, I made my way back down to the surface, the pegasus following me the whole way as I lowered myself down. “I’m glad to see you made it here.”
With a quick couple of flaps, I halted my descent before letting myself drop the rest of the short way, landing neatly on all fours and laying my eyes on him once again. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Archer.” I replied, tucking in my wings and standing up straight. “In fact I didn’t expect to see you… w-well… ever again.”
To that, one more familiar trait about him showed itself, that small smile that I’d come to remember this stallion by, as he uttered a faint chuckle. “Well, I didn’t expect to be here either.” Came his response, after which he took in a breath, exhaling as he added, “Not at first, anyway.”
Having been taking in the sight of the armed and armored, battle-ready and travel-worn pegasus, I spotted something as he spoke, something that brought up worry immediately at the image it cast in the lantern light. What I had thought was a plain sash over his armored chest was actually a long strand of healing bandages, wrapped over his left shoulder, maneuvering over his back and past his wings, then coming back around under his belly and hooking by his right leg to complete the circle; the portion covering his chest was colored crimson, a long mark of dried blood. “Are you okay?” I questioned.
“Oh, this?” He spared a moment to crane his head down, looking to his hoof as he raised it to press gently against the bandages. “Nah, it’s nothing. I’m alright.”
“Are you sure?” I pressed worriedly, watching as he set his hoof back down and looked to me again. “That looks pretty bad.”
But again, Archer shook his head. “It could’ve been worse.” he assured. “I ran into a griffin patrol on my way in. Made it in unscathed except for where one caught me with her claws. Doesn’t help that I’m only wearing a light rig. But it wasn’t too bad either way, never hindered my flying or concentration. So I’m good.”
I couldn’t help but frown as I looked over the bandaging again. But out of respect for the new surprising arrival, I let it go with a soft exhale. And with that matter now come and gone, I quickly found myself steering in towards another question, the only one I could think of at Archer’s unexpected appearance in this city. The last time we had seen each other, we’d barely made it through Bolt’s assassination attempt. He’d been badly wounded, beaten savagely, and still, while dripping blood and struggling through his injuries, he swore to return to Buckley Air Force Base, that simultaneously cursed and blessed place. Between then and now, it had been three days… We both knew it… And so I had to ask him, “What happened after you left?” We locked eyes, my concerned frown met by a little one of his own. “Did you go back to Buckley like you said?”
“Yeah.” he answered with a hesitant nod. “I snuck past the fences by coming in from above, kept out of sight, made my way to Shimmer’s silo.” With a little sigh, he added, “She’d been up the whole night, pacing back and forth, worrying about Bolt and the others. And I’m afraid she didn’t take it well when I broke the news about what happened.” I felt myself sagging at the memory of that sweet old mare, so kind and compassionate, now hearing how she had gone through even further heartache because of the hatred of one. “She had to have a moment for herself at hearing the news… but she pulled through well enough, even helped patch me up.”
“Did you tell her about what you had to do?” I asked, a little nervous.
“Of course I did. I didn’t think once of hiding it from her.” came Archer’s firm response. “When I told her, she didn’t blame me for defending myself. She actually felt that Bolt and the others that followed him were out of control, said that their inability to see reason was what justified what I did. And in the end she was very determined to use what happened as a lesson to keep the others in line at home. Even if they hate you and other outsiders for the rest of their lives, she told me that she’d rather have them live with that hatred than die coming to try and kill you. Even if it set back her progress, she’d still rather it be this way than put any other ponies at risk, both her own and outsiders alike.”
And at that, I couldn’t help but sigh, downhearted… but still acknowledging that truth, the truth that it would be better for them to harbor a hate for me and remain safe behind their fences and their howitzers than to try and come into the region and find me… especially with the way it was now.
“Regarding you, Shimmer was glad to hear that you’d survived Bolt’s ambush, and actually took some solace from that.” Archer continued, my eyes meeting his again at his mentioning of me. “She actually wanted me to convey her sincerest apologies and condolences for everything that happened that night. She knows about those seven ponies you lost, and she hopes to have your understanding that she did everything she could to keep Bolt from you.”
But to all that, I gave a little shake of my head. “She didn’t have anything to apologize for. She should’ve known that from the start.”
“Well she didn’t feel that way, and you know she never would either.” he responded, to which I had to agree.
“Yeah…… so… what about you?” I asked after a pause. “Where do you sit in all of this?”
“In the end… Mother Shimmer and I agreed that it’d be better for me to just leave Buckley altogether.” In that moment, I felt my heart hitch as I was sucker-punched by an old emotional friend. “If word got out that I played a part in killing off Bolt’s team, especially with how volatile things are over there, I’ve no doubt that I’d have been killed myself.”
I only swallowed in response, looking to him with a face that could have only been interpreted as apologetic. I didn’t have to speak it aloud to project my guilt, and judging by the small frown that took shape on Archer’s muzzle, he saw it as quickly as I felt it. “I told you that you risked too much doing what you did.” It was a strained response, weakened both by my voice and by my eyes that turned to the dirt. “You should’ve stayed away…”
“Nova… you know we’ve been over this right?” he asked, calm, patient…
“But now you’ve been kicked out of Buckley…” And when I looked back up to him, I felt the makings of a tear in my right eye; I barely held it back from being seen. “That was… that was your home, Archer …”
“Which is why I’ve come here.” he interrupted; I almost jumped in surprise when I saw him start to move, closing the distance between us. “I came to Challenger because I knew it was the one place that hadn’t been occupied by the Talon Legion. And in all honesty, when I left Buckley… I prayed that I’d find you here, that you would have come here for shelter just like everypony else.” He paused just a moment, stopping…… It almost seemed like he was… nervous about speaking the rest of what he had to say. “You and your friends are the only ponies I know outside Buckley… and so I hoped that if I’d found you…” Goddesses… this was the first time I’d seen hesitation in him like this… It was actually… kind of concerning. “Well… I was hoping that I might be able to find a place in your group…”
We were no more than a couple steps apart from one another. And from here, there was an uncertainty in him that I’d never seen before, a part of him that he’d never shown when he’d been in Buckley. I had no doubt that this was not something common in him, as I had the feeling also that this had come from what he had endured in the aftermath of Guardian’s reign of terror. And it was this that made me feel all the worse about seeing Archer in his current state. He stood strong before me. He was a fighter, tough and hardened. But beneath the shell… I felt there was a fear in him, even if just slight… a fear of being alone. It was something I couldn’t exactly sympathize with through personal experience. But despite everything, I was fully adamant on the belief that he didn’t deserve to be alone. That belief was reinforced even further at remembering Sierra and her recounting of her days in the Enclave… how she had seen his public branding and watched as he had been labeled a traitor for acts of mercy and kindness, becoming nothing more than the refuse of his home, thrown out and left to die. After that… who knew other than he what he had been through. History was there, and I couldn’t begin to guess how much of it had left scars on him that he had yet to reveal.
In the end, what he must’ve thought was asking too much of me, or what he must’ve thought was intrusive or awkward or just weird, I saw as something that he didn’t even have to ask for, something that was a plain and real prayer for help. Archer was far too good a stallion for me to just up and reject him, and I knew that others would feel the same way, not only because of what they’d seen of him in Buckley, but also because of how he had come to our aid when Bolt had found us… and because a select few had seen the two of us together in the past…
Shoving everything else aside, I regained my faculties to tell him this. “Of course there’s a place for you here.” I said, as confidently as I could.
And I saw as he begun to calm, just a little, as he replied with, “Are you sure? I’ll understand if you say otherwise.”
But I shook my head with that same confidence. “After everything we’ve done together, do you really think you even have to ask, Archer?” I asked as an assurance.
“I suppose that’s really up to you.” came his slow, careful reply.
And to that, I couldn’t help but role my eyes, after which he raised a shoulder in an innocent shrug. “Come on.” I urged. “My friends and I are about to have dinner. I’d imagine that you must be at least a little hungry yourself, so you’re more than welcome to join us if you like.”
Though at first he was still hesitant, looking to want to reply… he gradually started easing up… to the point where he almost looked to be settling back into his more calm, more relaxed, focused, normal self. And seeing that small smile come back to him as he finally let himself believe that I wasn’t lying to him… I felt just a little bit better myself. “That… that sounds great.” came his reply. “Thank you, Nova.”
And with a nod, I turned around, casting him what I felt was a welcoming little smile as I let my wings come unfurled. “Our camp’s right over the fence, Archer. Follow me.”
*** *** ***
“Here you are.”
“Ah, thank you.” I found my recollector just after Archer pushed it over to me, and when I tossed it into my left saddlebag, I had everything accounted for.
After bringing Archer into camp, I had reintroduced him to my companions. And as I had predicted, they welcomed him into our dinner circle with open arms. Of course, with this came the general inquiry as to how he was faring after our last encounter, to which Archer had situated himself and retold his story to the whole group. He had explained to them everything he had said to me, and out of his retelling of his return to Buckley, the recollection of Mother Shimmer’s own thoughts and prayers had held the most heft. Having already been of the general mind that Shimmer herself was no perpetrator regarding Bolt’s attack, Archer’s words only served to revitalize the sympathies that had come to life days ago. Even Sierra, who had not been in Buckley during the Talons’ invasion, who had not even met Shimmer herself, voiced her own condolences directly to Archer. That in turn helped him to feel more welcomed in our group, and he had even thanked us for feeling the way we did, for being on Shimmer’s side just as she was on ours… and for recognizing the real enemies in all of this.
A few minutes into our actual dinner, and we had received a surprise visit from Captain Saber, coming to investigate for himself the rumor of a new sudden arrival. And upon meeting face to face, the two stallions bumped hooves, and our leader immediately thanked Archer for his involvement killing off Bolt and his party before they could do the same to us. Being the pony he was, Saber spoke with this his understanding that what Archer had done was a very difficult choice for him to make. The captain too had recognized that those ponies had been, at the very least, acquaintances to him, and as such knew that it had been hard to choose us over them, and even harder to deal with the aftermath. Once he was in the loop about the reason behind Archer’s coming to Challenger, he made a promise to him right then and there that he was welcome among us so long as he wished to be here. And while it was indeed a difficult subject, Archer had been very grateful for the hospitality granted him.
Hearing it from our leader had taken away the greater majority of the uncertainty that had been left in him once I’d brought him to camp, and I was very happy to see how well-received Archer had become.
Now, with dinner complete and with most everypony making their way to bed, it was Archer and I sorting through and repacking all our things together. Having tucked Blake into bed not even an hour prior, I wanted to take some time this night before I crashed to make sure everything I needed and owned was stashed away safely in my saddlepacks. And with the recollector now loaded up, I had everything with me. “There. Everything’s packed.” With a satisfied nod, I closed up my saddlebags and secured them, making them travel-ready for my big first day in Challenger’s military tomorrow. “Thanks for helping me pack, Archer.”
Looking back up to the stallion flier, I found him as he gave a little dip of his head. “You’re welcome, private.” he replied, winning a little smile from me at his little reference. “Are you ready?”
“Well… travel-ready, yes.” I answered… a little slowly as I pushed my saddlepacks off to the side. “This is a big decision for me.”
“I understand.” came Archer’s reply. “But your nervousness is definitely justifiable.”
“Nervous…” I looked away to the side, my eyes passing over the groups of sleeping ponies in our camp. Most everypony had already drifted away for the night, even my friends. It was just me, Archer, and a couple of others farther away that were still up and about…… It was very late though… and in the back of my mind, I knew that I’d be rather tired if I didn’t try to get some sleep myself soon. Still… there were things weighing on me that wouldn’t leave me alone until they were freed… especially not when the very pony whom they concerned was right here in front of me. “Yeah, I’d say that I am nervous, Archer. But I can’t let that get in my way, especially tomorrow. I’ve got… I’ve got a lot to atone for. And this is the best way to do it.”
It was abundantly clear that my would-have-been hidden emotions were visible to Archer in that moment. But at this point, with how tired I was, with how indeed nervous I was about what was soon to come, I really didn’t care. And as I figured, Archer caught on quick, slightly cocking his head to look upon me with a mix of curiosity and concern in response to my more cryptic words. “Something on your mind, Nova?” He asked the question… but something told me he already knew the answer.
“I think the real question is what isn’t on my mind.” came my retort, accompanied by one mirthless note of laughter.
“Is there… any of that you want to talk about?” he asked, employing respectful caution that I… actually kind of appreciated.
“Considering that, up until recently, I’d thought I’d never be able to talk about it…”
“About what?” he asked.
“You…”
His concerned expression didn’t change. He didn’t show any surprise… nor did he show annoyance… nothing but that concern toward me, even as he asked, “About me leaving Buckley? Is that what you mean?”
And when I nodded, he nodded back his understanding, knowing for certain right then and there the specifics of my thoughts, knowing that it was my guilt that was coming out to speak to him. But despite the nagging feeling that pricked at me, telling me that I was just wasting his time, I pressed on with one simple question. “You say that you left Buckley for your own safety, and I believe you… But… it was my fault that you had to leave your home behind… or, that’s how I feel…… So I want you to tell me why, now.” Despite my sensitivity, I fixed him with slightly-narrowed eyes, demanding that my question be answered truthfully, and with no secrets. “I want to know, Archer – after Guardian’s missiles fell, after Bolt and his assassins – I want to know why you stood up for me all this time.” And Archer, even though he’d heard this before, listened, not even so much as flicking his eyes away from me. “I want to know why you took my side over Buckley’s, why you chose to help somepony you only knew for days over those you lived with for years… I want to know why you left Buckley at your back and killed ponies from your home for the sake of rescuing me… And I want to know how you believed through all of that mess that I was worth all the pain of loss and the physical scars that you took just to keep your faith in me…”
After a moment of stillness, disturbed only by a cool gentle breeze that rustled our manes, the pegasus let himself shift his hooves as he took in my words. That gave me the time to suddenly think back on a memory from a few days back, back when I’d left Buckley for good… just after Archer had tried to explain his answer to these very questions I asked now… only to be interrupted by a rather sharp slap across the face from me. But now there were no interruptions, none by me nor by anything around us, and he was weaving his answer when I looked him over again. And a moment later, he began with, “You’re right in saying the whole thing was one shitty mess. But the thing for me about it all was how Buckley took it. Given their history, you can’t blame them for how they reacted when you told them the truth. Thanks to you, they had only just started trusting outsiders before Guardian happened. And when it did, it was understandable when all that progress was set back.” I hated the reminder, the weight it put on my shoulders… but here, it was definitely unavoidable to hear again. “But that was still no reason to react to you like they had.” Archer continued. “They knew who you were, how you thought and what you valued. They should’ve known that the Legion was who the blame should’ve been given to from the start, because they’d fought against them ten years ago. And atop that they should’ve known that you wouldn’t have done what you did without a damn good reason, especially when their own leader, who they looked to for wisdom, said the exact same thing. They all knew Blake was that reason, the sole reason you would’ve gone through with what you did. And whether they’d like to admit it or not, many would’ve made the same choice that you did if the Legion did to them what they did to you. But they didn’t see it that way. Instead, they only saw it as yet another scenario in which an outlander tried to bring them harm, and in their eyes, insult was added to injury because you had been an outsider that they actually trusted. So they reacted in the one way they were so familiar with, which was to kill first and think later. And that is a weakness if the situation is right… as we saw through Bolt.” When I nodded, listening intently, he said next, “I was there every minute that tragedy unfolded, from Stable One Eighty-four to when you were exiled. And there were times where I felt I was the only one who knew who the real enemies were. You could say that I was different because I didn’t have blood family in Buckley, because I didn’t have a sibling or a wife or any close friends. But whatever you decide to call it… I want you to know that I was actually proud of my choices.” The assertion that had been with him this whole time, diminished but still prominent… I nearly flinched when it reached its peak in this moment. I only blinked when those words came to pass, doing well to hold back seeable evidence of my astonishment, and only watched on as he said, “When everything was said and done, I was more than willing and ready to come to find you and your friends and help you fight off Bolt’s party. And in the end… I’m proud of what I did – standing with you and Shimmer, and all those both at the base and in your own group that have stood behind you and continue to do so. I’m proud to say that I’m one of them.”
I was… startled… to hear the subject in this fashion, with words so forceful and passionate that the pride Archer claimed… it was there. He had tried to explain this to me before, I know he had… It was back right before I left Buckley behind forever. He had told me who was truly responsible, who was victim and who was foe, the first of many others that would say the same thing. But when he’d spoken, I hadn’t been willing to listen. I outright refused to listen, refused to believe. That part of me had been there time and time again when somepony else would speak those words, just as unyielding as ever… only until that part of my past had drawn farther and farther away, when the dust had settled just a little bit, when the trauma had died down just enough for me to finally listen with some measure of inclination to let others speak their words in my defense. Gunny, Shore, Saber, Ivy, and Raemor – my friends had been the first to speak, the first to understand and forgive… Then came the voices of Hopeville’s survivors, ponies from within our remaining crowd who had said their feelings that culminated into two simple, powerful words – we understand. Sergeant Madeline, Shore’s parents, one of Gracie’s nurse assistants… then Melody and her parents, and all the foals I’d cared for in Stable 181. All of them had spoken what Archer told me now – they stood with me, still cared for me… and hearing him now brought all those voices back, with him leading their charge.
And at the end of my thoughts… I could only muster myself to ask Archer one more time… “But… why?”
“Because of who you are.” Silence… not even a breeze to stir the pause that loomed between us as we stared back to one another. “Because of what you believe in, how you live… because of your virtue.” And as I stared on, frozen in place, his small smile returned across his muzzle in a kind, heartfelt expression of sincerity. “Because you are you.”
*chirp
Suddenly, a beep from below me yanked my attention to the ground underhoof, or rather, to my pipbuck still latched around my right foreleg, and puzzled, I quickly raised the computer up to eye-level. The display had changed, swapping the inventory screen back to a different list of items, beside which was the glowing L-shaped display that monitored radio wave activity, empty. But something was flashing on the screen, calling for my attention; it was down at the bottom of the list of radio frequencies I had been exposed to. Stable 181’s old security channel, Mother Shimmer’s farm, Major General Vance’s command frequency – Castle CF01 – all in black letters to show their inaccessible state… And finally, the signal we’d discovered just earlier today, that military station. But the codename for it – Bravo Delta Channel Fifteen Thirty – I remembered that name. But no longer did I see it on my screen. Instead, only two words gave me a new signal’s name…
Eternity Radio
I repeated that name aloud, glancing back to Archer in mid-thought as to the purpose of the change in its name. But when I saw the pegasus… saw that smile of his and saw how it grew just slightly… I uttered a soft gasp as realization hit me. “Eternity…” Of course… “As in… Club Eternity??”
And Archer raised a hoof to gesture toward me. “Play it, Nova.”
It was Club Eternity… Buckley’s Club Eternity, home to the base’s more modernized electronic musical selections, and with it, even old jazz tunes. I remembered the time when I’d been explained this… and I remembered the building… remembered all at once Buckley’s passion for music in its many forms. I couldn’t hold myself back, and I sat myself down and raised my pipbuck back up to guide myself to that new radio signal. And with one final glance to the waiting Archer, who nodded his encouragement, I activated the signal on my pipbuck.
The speaker cast the gentle haunting strikes of piano keys, weaving a beautiful phrase of descending perfect intervals. The piano repeated itself, with faint strings speaking soft yet crystal clear. A third time it played, new strings coming in on a higher octave. And then came a fourth, where all gradually faded into silence, the piano slowing to a pause… Then came the melody, of which only the piano sang, chords in the bass making the tempo as the lyrical passage announced the theme of the work. It fell into a pause as the final keys sustained their tones. Then with a single note pick up the same theme repeated as a slight variation, with a short but beautifully chilling trill in the center before two more echoing chords brought another pause. I was swept away to Buckley all over again, nearly gasping at the return of the string accompaniment that rose to life to join a new melodic phrase in the piano. Together they made a striking force of harmonic elegance. And when the piano entered the third part of this new passage, I felt it in my very bones as I heard the descending melody and accompaniment, felt the return of that opening phrase. And it did with a strike of a deep bass note in time with the last tone of the melody, the descending perfect chords singing again to remind me of their beautiful presence, as the strings and even a flute drifted gently behind them. But then came a true herald of old memories, a solo violin that took over the lead role with its own playing of the melody. And as the vibrato in each of the long tones and the grace of each transition from note to note sculpted its rendition of the song… I was reminded immediately of Saharra…
And it was then, even as the song continued, that I finally tore myself away from the music enough to look back to Archer… only three words on my mind. “They did it…”
Buckley actually did it.
“Yeah they did.” Archer replied with that same smile, soft as if intentionally speaking below Saharra’s instrument. “I actually remember this one from a concert just over a year ago. It’s definitely Saharra on that violin, because this one’s one of her favorites.”
“Really?”
And Archer nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s called Awakening… a rather fitting title if you think about it.”
Awakening…
The awakening of Buckley from its isolation? The awakening of the ears of the southeast to this stunning thing, this beautiful treasure? Yes… it was truly fitting, and no doubt intended to be so. I knew Mother Shimmer, at least enough to know that, in order to announce Buckley’s tentative first steps out from its solitude, she would wish to send a message that was both peaceful and symbolic. And while nopony else would know the name of the song, the music itself was what spoke the nature of her mission.
And here and now, she finally made it happen.
“I can’t believe they actually did it.” I admitted my doubt freely to Archer, who nodded his understanding toward my reservation; he knew why I felt the way I felt. “I thought that after the Talons came… they wouldn’t want anything more to do with that.”
“I was there when Shimmer received the news that everything was set up in the base’s ATC tower, just this morning actually.” Archer explained. “She was so relieved to hear that, you could practically see the energy coming back to her.”
But even though Archer recalled that moment with fondness… I didn’t share that emotion with him. Instead, I only found one more reason to feel ashamed of the role I’d played in weaving his road for him… of bringing his misfortunes to him. That came to me in the form of a little frown, my averting my eyes away from him, briefly, but enough. And I knew he saw it, especially when I met his stare again. “Sorry…” I uttered after a short sigh. “I know we just went over this…”
“But now you see that Buckley is still standing strong, even in the wake of Guardian’s activation.” he replied, pointing a hoof at me. “Now you have proof of the true strength and resolve that rests in that place.” He lowered his hoof back to the ground… and he approached me. “The Talons hit them hard, but they’re probably the toughest lot I’ve ever met in my time. And most of that strength – it comes from their passion for music, definitely not something you see every day.” That was indeed true. “So you understand now that things aren’t as bad as they could’ve been. Buckley’s still very much alive… and something tells me that’s the case for all the settlements out here, yours and others.” Now… Archer stood right before me, speaking with all the sincerity he could rally. And as he did… I caught sight of his hoof reaching out for me… for my foreleg… poised over my pipbuck. The song had reached its end, one last chord from the piano hovering around us… and when nothingness took over again, Archer pressed the radio button on my pipbuck, shutting off the broadcast. “The Legion used Guardian in an effort to knock out everypony they possibly could to get a hold on this region. But while they may have succeeded in that, they failed to take Challenger out of the fight. In fact, I’d say things are quite the opposite here.” I looked on with questioning eyes, tilting my head as I tried to understand. “What I mean by that… you say you helped the Talons cripple the southeast. I say that you helped the Talons create a unified nation that is ready to fight back for their right to live, a stronger region that fights a common enemy, a weapon that can and already has beaten the Legion at its own game.” And at that… I blinked… rather… taken aback by those words… words that made a perspective I never looked through before… one I never even imagined existed… and yet held such a sudden impact that I… didn’t immediately know how to react. “Think on that.” Archer encouraged. “Because when I do, I get the feeling that things are going to turn out better than you think… And I hope that you’ll eventually feel the same way.”
I’d really, truly, never thought of it that way… and it… it actually brought me a little peace, something that stamped itself down and didn’t let go… something that actually gave me the perspective that several ponies had tried to make me see… now threatening to make me feel just a little better…… better about everything.
It was something that… in that moment… brought to my mind a subject with a little more importance. For the first time, without conflict to linger over us, I was face to face with Archer… with this stallion who I’d only known for days… yet felt like I’d been with for far longer. This stallion was the one who shared fierce battles with me, discovered new territory with me… shared a dance with… and now who tried his absolute best to encourage me in the wake of my own emotional maelstrom. This pony… he was a good stallion… and in the silence between us… I found myself smiling a much more genuine smile, one of thanks to him for his words… and one of……
With just slight hesitation, bashfulness, I reached up my left foreleg to him, slowly hooking it around the back of his neck. And when I pulled, he let me bring him in for a hug… and gladly, I rested my head over his right shoulder to savor the embrace. “I’m glad you came and found me, Archer.” I said, nothing but the truth. “And I’m glad you’re okay.”
And I felt as he returned my hold, patting my back just below my wings. “I’m glad you’re okay, too, Nova.” he replied softly. “I really am.”
And when we released each other, the both of us turned our eyes back to my pipbuck, the both of us sharing the same thought. And eagerly, I reactivated Buckley’s broadcast for the both of us to listen in. A new song was already playing, a solo guitar greeting us with a warm welcome, with a slower yet lively and meditative beat that I soon found myself tapping a forehoof to. And we stayed there together, basking in this music from Buckley’s new Eternity Radio… celebrating in comfortable silence the great victory we now beheld.
Mother Shimmer had completed her mission.
Buckley Air Force Base had won.
Footnote: 66% to Level Up.
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Thanks for the new chapter!
6578631 You bet. Hope you enjoy.
Your book has been advertised on the new facebook group page: https://www.facebook.com/groups/foebooks/ :)
6658988 Huh. Well how about that? :)