Fallout Equestria: Dawnbreakers

Fallout Equestria: Tomorrow Never Comes

Chapter 2

Transfer

There’s one memory that’s always stuck with me, when my brother and I had ventured far out from our home, as we had always done. This day, however, would prove to be different than our usual days of exploring. We were pretty young; I was somewhere around fifteen, and my brother, Moxie, would have been twelve. Moxie had told me about an old, abandoned camp he had found a few miles off of the road that our home was adjacent to, and wanted me to come with him to help pick through it for anything interesting we might find.

The walk wasn’t too long, but it was rough. The whole trip was constantly up and down hills, and the terrain got pretty rocky about halfway through. I underestimated what my brother’s idea of what a mile was, and didn’t realize that he had walked around three miles out until we finally arrived at the small site. There was a single tent, haphazardly held up with two poles, underneath a large, dead tree. Placed a few feet from the front of a tent was a fire pit, with a pan and a few empty tin cans scattered around the rocks that made up the border of the pit. I wish I could have inspected the rest of the area better than I had, but my attention was drawn to the fire pit, and the still-burning embers that lay at the bottom.

“Hey, Moxie?” I had asked him nervously.

“Yeah?”

“When did you find this place again?”

“Two days ago,” he responded, as he began to trot down to the tent.

“You didn’t notice anything… weird about this place then?”

“Not really.” He had just reached the border of the fire pit, and had kicked a tin can towards the tent. No response. “I did find this weird hat down here though.”

“A weird hat?” I asked, as I joined him beside the fire pit.

“Yeah, I don’t know why anypony would want to wear a hat like it though, it was hard as hell.”

“Where was it?”

“It’s over there.” He pointed his hoof towards a lockbox that I hadn’t noticed. Beside it, on the ground, lay an NCR combat helmet.

===        ===        ===

Roads.

Roads, roads…and more roads.

The archaic pathways that connected every village, town, and city in the old world were now the old, familiar friends of the merchants and their respective escorts and bodyguards. Though, I don’t know if I ever really had a “friend” in them. Our relationship was more of an acquaintanceship. I can’t really envision being friends considering how lonely, bleak, and drole the highways of the Equestrian wasteland more often than not were.

However, that description may not be entirely accurate as of late. Lonely? Sure. Droll? You bet. But bleak? The small, sparse bits of green that had begun to spring up from the millions of cracks and crevices throughout the miles of pavement were desperately attempting to put that label to rest. To most ponies who were unfamiliar with the struggles of the NCR scientists in the vegetation restoration field, they were simple, scrawny weeds, but to me they were a great symbol. Equestria was coming back, or trying to at least, and with the state of the world right now, that’s all you can ask of anypony.

Hopefully, this is the future we can look forward to. Currently though, lonely, bleak, and droll were apt descriptions.

I never complained though. I’ve always tried my best not to. I’ve heard so much bellyaching from other grunts while on duty I don’t think I could even stand to hear the sound coming from my own mouth. To my relief and surprise, I had yet to hear one complaint out of our new travelling buddy, private Weaver. He had asked a couple of routine questions concerning gear, preparations, and so on, but not once did he utter even a groan. Even after we had passed the four and a half mile halfway point in our journey to the unnamed settlement just outside NCR jurisdiction.

I like ponies that don’t bitch and moan, it makes the whole of whatever you’re doing a hell of a lot more bearable. So, it was only natural that I would end up with a mild hatred of the merchant we were currently escorting.

Timber, the merchant we had the pleasure of sharing this long stretch of tar with, was an earth pony who was getting up there in age. His mane, now a dirty shade of grey, contrasted with his piss-yellow coat about as much as his nervousness and temper contrasted with mine and CB’s calmness. He had no reason to worry, CB and I had walked this particular road dozens of times and we had long been familiar with any ambush point or hiding spot. Still, we remained on guard.

“‘Bout like that damned pencil-pusher to set me up with the most laid back ponies in the base,” Timber once again exhaled tiredly. “Merchants comin’ back with nothing but news ‘bout more raider activity, and I get shafted with the bodyguards again.”

The wagon he pulled rolled on down the road, occasionally bouncing over a bump or groove in the pavement, bouncing up the cart’s tarp revealing the various packs of rations and water bottles intended to both nourish the inhabitants of our destination, and provide them with a reason to side with us. Funny how that works. All this was supposed to be was a basic supply drop, but this apparent gift of generosity would take on a political meaning inevitably.

Timber once again slowed his pace as we began to pass a rock formation perched on a hill to our right.

“See that?” He turned his head back towards me to say, “we pass by a sketchy damn place like that, and y’all don’t even wanna check it out before we walk right past it.”

“Look, you nervous wreck,” CB replied, “that’s the fourth time you’ve wanted to stop the cart, just so the three of us can go up ahead and poke around in some hole that I already knew was coming up. And guess what? You’re oh for three now, and I can guarantee you won’t get lucky with this one.”

“That actually looks like it could hide a few ponies,” Weaver spoke up, “I can understand the other spots, but are you sure we shouldn’t check this one out?”

“No need,” I answered, “The way the rocks are angled we were already able to see if anypony was there a couple of yards back. There’s nopony up there.”

“Oh, right,” Weaver mumbled.

“Don’t know why no one but me wants to make sure we ain’t gonna end up strung up by no Brighter Dawn tribal,” Timber once more decided to pipe in.

The Brighter Dawn, as they liked to be called, were a more recent thorn in the Caravan Defense’s side. A relatively small tribal outfit compared to pre-NCR groups, but they were still able to strategize pretty well. Well, most of them were anyway, some of the idiots like to introduce themselves like corny-ass supervillains or some shit. Or, that’s what some other soldiers have said. As far as I know, I’ve never encountered them. If I had, they weren’t too inclined to had me a business card before popping off a few potshots.

This is how it went for any other “sketchy damn place” we happened upon. Timber would bitch a little about us not taking a half hour to scope out an old, rundown shack before getting within forty yards of the thing, despite the fact that me and CB knew about it even before we set out that morning. We had walked this stretch of road so many times it seemed, that we would probably notice if a certain pebble was out of place, having been blown by a strong wind or knocked over by sompony’s dragging hooves.

Highway 18, as it was known to the NCR mapmakers, was one of three main roads leading out of Fort McCanton, stretching far away to the southern lands, making a few wide turns before it extended beyond the borders of the NCR. I don’t know what it was called before the cartographers put a number on it, but I’d sure like to. I feel like I somehow wouldn’t mind travelling down “Heartspring’s Lane” or “Morningdew Road” as much as I would Highway 18.

I wish a lot of things were called by their original names, the ones now lost to time. As far as I know, every town still retained its superficial identity, its soft and fluffy name. Junction R-7 was the most well known, hell it’d probably be known by that name until the end of time, especially with its importance in the wasteland. Being the capital city of the largest, most organized, and essentially ONLY government body in the wastes can certainly add an air of significance, to the location and its name.

Towns and cities were easy to name and map, the big prominent signs on the roads going into their borders helped a lot with that I imagine. The roads themselves though, were not as lucky. Anything printed on paper fared poorly to the effects of time, and that included maps. Cartographers damn near lost their minds whenever they got a hint that a map may have survived in a certain shop or house, but very few were ever recovered by the NCR.

If I had to be assigned to any other position, there are very few I wouldn’t want more than cartographers. I already said that I had expected menial duties when I signed up, and cartographers got their fair share of that, but I don’t think I’d be able to handle a job that was performed behind a desk ninety percent of the time.

I couldn’t dedicate myself to something like that. Not to say that our cartographers didn’t do good work for a good cause, I just couldn’t allow myself to live in that…….safety. Anywhere the cartographers went, the army had already been there a week.

I had told myself when I signed, I wanted a job that would allow me to provide some kind of service to the rest of the wastes, a job that would put me on the frontlines of change.

A job that would put me in danger.

===        ===        ===

“Aaannndddd, we’re in the great gray area!” CB proclaimed as soon as we had passed by a makeshift outpost, flanked by three NCR soldiers who were taking their turns on border defense. Timber was long acquainted with nearly every soldier who had border duty, so we were allowed past no questions asked.

“You guys have a working radio, right?” CB yelled over to one of the soldiers as Timber yanked and pulled the wagon to make it over the small arched bridge that crossed over a small stream that flowed out from the front of the outpost.

“You got it!” one of the ponies, a unicorn, yelled back. “This one spent some time in maintenance, so if you get left high and dry out there you can blame those assholes!”

“I think the blame game’s the last thing we’ll be wanting to play,” I called back over my shoulder, “if shit goes down bad enough to call it in!”

“Doesn’t mean I want eyes glaring at me during the wake though!” the unicorn soldier laughed back.

“Hey….uh, corporal Holder?” I head Weaver call up ahead of me. “Can we get some help over here?” Weaver was behind the wagon, still stuck on the incline of the bridge, trying to push it over.

“Yeah, hold on,” I called ahead as I hurried my pace.

When I reached the rear of the wagon I noticed that the right wheel was laid in a gap in the planks, and the frequency of swears coming from the front of the wagon indicated Timber’s annoyance with the situation. I leaned my shoulder on the body of the wagon and gave a good push. I was surprised at how easily the wheel escaped.

“Shit, you needed help with that?” CB said, glancing over at Weaver as he caught up with the group.

“What, the thing was stuck wasn’t it?” Weaver asked, trying to avoid eye contact.

“There’s maybe a hundred pounds in the back of that wagon,” CB chuckled at the private. “How the hell did you get an assignment with the shape you’re in?”

“I don’t know, I can match everyone during drills. I mean, Timber was having trouble with it too.”

“Timber’s also as old as that fucking bridge is,” I joked. “And you’re what, nineteen?”

“Eighteen,” Weaver quietly replied, slowly trying to make his way to the front of the wagon, and away from me and CB.

“Fucking hell,” CB said “Were you that eager to get away from your folks?”

Before Weaver could answer, Timber once again stopped the wagon to voice yet another complaint that I’m sure would have come up sooner or later anyway.

“Will at least one of you sorry bastards come up to the front? I’m pretty sure takin’ a bullet before the fucker you’re escortin’ is part of your job description!”

“Aw shit,” CB exhaled, making sure he was talking loud enough for Timber to hear, “we must be about to pass by a sketchy looking shrub.”

“You just remember who writes up the satisfaction reports, grunt!” Timber promptly shot back. “I’ve seen it happen before, and I can have you workin’ in the latrines if I word it just right.”

CB just laughed. “Yeah, yeah, calm down I’m heading up.”

CB and me both knew the kind of weight a report from Timber would carry, and it was even lighter than his wagon. Timber was a running joke incarnate with anyone who had a job handling papers at the base. He’s filed reports on guards who didn’t offer him a drink from their canteens for goddess-sake. No, CB didn’t have anything to be worried about.

I was more curious as to what the answer was to CB’s earlier question to Weaver. I hung back further from the wagon so I could match pace with the private.

“So Weaver,” I asked, looking over at him, his eyes shooting up from the ground to meet mine, “what was it that made you sign up so early?”

“Uh….I guess private Cotton Ball kinda said it,” Weaver replied quietly.

“Oh, you’re not gonna want to say that when he’s close enough to hear you” I laughed.

“But, that’s his name isn’t it?”

“Not to anyone that’s a lower rank that he is. Hell, I outrank him and I don’t think I’ve ever called him that but once.”

“Does he not like his name or something?” Weaver asked, getting a little braver with his questions.

“That’s a story I don’t even know, but I feel like it’s a long one so I don’t really worry about it. Anyway, that’s getting off topic from what you were saying earlier.”

“Earlier….about what?”

“About why you signed up.”

“Oh. Well, like I said, Cott,-uh… CB pretty much got it. My parents.”

“What, does your dad like to hit the bottle a little or something like that?”

“Well, that and everything else. Can’t really say my mom tried her best to improve the situation either. Best we could hope for was for her to throw us out for a couple of hours.”

“So you just signed up when you could?” I asked, feeling myself reach a comfort area in the topic at hand.

“Yep, on my birthday actually.”

“What a present,” I chuckled, “so, what’re you doing when you get out?”

“I don’t know,” Weaver replied, speaking a little louder than he had been throughout the conversation, “maybe go back and try to fix the house up a little. Show my parents that I’ve done something worthwhile.”

“Huh, I’d wait a couple more years to see how things go before I say that,” I chuckled back at him. “So, you’re going back, after you signed up to get out?”

“Yeah, well I have a sister that I need to help out once I get a decent bit of money. If it weren’t for her I just might live on base. She was the only thing keeping me sane there.”

My pace quickened slightly, as if automatically, to match my heart beat. “It’s fine, I’ve got it this time,” I thought to myself.

“What about you corporal Holder?” Weaver looked over at me, and tried to match my increasing pace, “do you have anyone you visit on leave?”

I’m still amazed at how fast just a small amount of thought on the subject could trigger a headache, a fever, shortening of breath.

“Uh, corporal?”

A series of thoughts that need to be kept... locked up somewhere, out of fear of another week’s worth of nightmares if brought up again. Just... seal them behind a brick wall, yeah, that’s what always works. Works a hell of a lot better than what that doctor told me..

“You can hear me, can’t you Holder?”

“What?” I twisted around and glared hard at the private, fighting heavy breathing.

“I said do you have anyone that yo‒”

“No,” I said. Quick and easy.

“Really? You don’t live with anyon‒”

“Nope, sure don’t,” It was getting harder to answer; I hoped Weaver would pick up on the situation by now.

“Damn, but you don’t live on base, right?”

“Uh..no. Look I think we’re coming up on….something up ahead that needs scouting.”

I didn’t bother to turn around to see if Weaver had finally taken the hint, I just needed to move, to walk next to CB for a while.

I hoped Timber wouldn’t pipe in with another damned complaint as I passed him.

I just needed to move… to walk next to CB for a while…

Just needed to move…

===        ===        ===

Another mile down the highway was helping a lot; being able to talk to CB instead of Weaver even more so. I hoped the kid didn’t think he had pissed me off too bad, but from how quiet he had been trudging back behind the wagon it looked like he might have thought just that. I don’t really think I had been angry, just...short? No, that’s not it. Whatever I was feeling, I didn’t want to feel it anymore, at least for the rest of the trip.

We were still about a mile and a half from whatever town we needed to be at, and I was looking forward to a nice, boring drop off, and then a nice, boring walk back to the base. Same as it always was. Timber, though, was bound and goddamned determined to put those hopes to rest.

I swear, every fucking quarter mile it was always something about some “sketchy damned cellar” or some “sketchy damned barn” or some “sketchy damned ponies in the road.”

Wait, what?

“I said,” Timber piped up again, “them bastards up there are actin’ pretty skitty. You gonna tell ‘em to fuck off outta the way or what?”

“What, nopony gets to walk on the same road as you or something?” CB joked, noticing the couple of ponies treading slowly down the road towards our group.

“Huh?” Weaver spoke up from the rear, trotting quickly up to the front to see, “Are they from the settlement? Coming to meet us or something?”

“If they are,” I answered, “nopony told us anything about it. Traders or scavengers most likely.”

We’d met ponies travelling our way on escort assignments often enough, and most of them had either wanted to buy something off of us or sell us something. Weapons, medicine, random shit they found in some hole full of more shit, anything that could be carried in a saddlebag had been advertised. The only thing me or CB had ever bought from anypony while on an assignment was water. With some escorts being particularly long, the last thing you want is something else to carry, and the first thing, usually after about half of the trip had passed, was some watery goodness. With this trip however, I didn’t plan on doing anything that would make the escort take longer than it already would.

As the ponies drew nearer, I noticed just how ragged their clothing appeared to be. So much so that I began to wonder if they lived in the old brick building a ways ahead to our left. Either that, or whatever settlement we were headed towards really needed some relief. The way the ponies lazily continued towards us it looked like we would meet in the middle near a rock formation to our right. Huh, guess I didn’t remember this road as much as I thought I did, I thought those rocks were a little closer to the building.

Maybe I was letting myself get a little too bored if that little detail bothered me.

“How’s the wagon-pulling been?” One of the ponies asked, looking back to Timber. I had been so bothered by the rocks that I didn’t even notice that the ponies had slowed a bit in front of us.

“I reckon it’s been about as good as it’ll ever be,” Timber shot back dryly.

“That’s just how it goes, huh?” the unknown earth pony chuckled heartily. Upon close inspection I noticed that not only was his clothing ragged, it also seemed to be really tight around his chest. “Damn,” I thought, “ we probably should have delivered some fabric or clothing too.

“You guys looking to buy ammo or meds?” the grey unicorn mare casually inquired, “looks like your ammo bags are a little skimpy, huh?”

“Shit,” CB chimed in, “why bring twenty pounds of ammo along on an escort like this?”

“Oh short trip huh? What’s that in your pack?” the unicorn mare asked CB, “nine mil’ rounds?”

“And the gun to match!” CB said, motioning past his radio to his submachine gun hanging from a strap. “Hey, you guys said you’ve got meds, right?”

The earth pony stallion stepped forward to answer, “Oh, you forget that pack back at home?”

“Nah, just remembered that I needed another pack of liquid hypodermic. I had to use some on a cut a couple miles back.”

“You’re in luck pal, we just stocked up.” the earth pony answered quickly; turning back to dig around in a saddlebag worn by the unicorn mare.

The look CB quickly shot my way told me everything I needed to know. I doubted this guy had a pack of liquid hypodermic needles in his saddlebag. I moved my back to angle my battle-saddle so that I could easily reach my hoof back to it, at the same time giving private Weaver another hard glare, this one with a purpose behind it.

Seeing me adjusting my gear seemed to be enough to put Weaver on his toes enough as it is, the look was the finishing touch. I saw him move to the right of the wagon and position himself a ways behind CB.

The earth pony seemed to have found what he was looking for and moved back up to speak with us, removing a smaller sack from his partner’s saddlebag.

“Alright,” he spoke up, “it looks like I was thinking of another supply we had loaded up, but I can get you some of the stuff you need if you can do a quick favor for me.”

“Sure thing,” CB calmly replied, “what’s that?”

CB was playing it a little slower than he usually does. “Good,” I thought, “Maybe he had learned that you didn’t always have to jump straight to the worst scenario.”

As the earth pony yanked a revolver out from the sack with his muzzle, the unicorn levitated an automatic pistol out from her other saddlebag and floated it in front of her face. Each weapon was focused on me an CB.

“Or,” I thought again to myself, “maybe you should sometimes.”

I didn’t take my eyes off of the stallion, whose revolver was aimed right at my dome, but I could hear Weaver make some sort of squeaky, panicked sound behind me. I imagined CB was just as still as I was.

“This wagon and its contents are now property of The Brighter Dawn,” the earth pony stallion announced sharply, “you are to remove yourself from the wagon and leave the area at once, any sudden actions will result in us killing the fuck out of you all.”

“Great,” I thought, “fucking supervillains.”

“What the fuck did I tell ya?!” Timber yelled annoyedly, “maybe ya should clear the road when I’m on it, ya jackass!”

“Shut up you old shit,” the unicorn mare ordered Timber, “you; telescope…” The mare was referring to me by my cutie mark, a spyglass crossed over a full moon. Why she mentioned the telescope and not the large, overly visible moon is beyond me.

“I guess you mean me, huh?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

“We’re not fucking around here, smartass,” The stallion replied in annoyance, “get that fucker out of the harness.”

“Alright, alright,” I quipped, “just give me a second, these straps are older than the old shit that’s hooked into them.”

I slowly turned towards Timber and the cart he was attached to. On my way over to the harness I flashed a quick glance over at CB, and hoped that Weaver really was ready for anything to happen. I began unhooking the top half of the harness with my mouth, unhooking the leather strap and letting it fall to Timber’s side. Once that was out of the way I kneeled down a bit to undo the lower strap that would loosen Timber from the wagon. On the way down, though, I just so happened to knock a small, metal canister that was hooked near the bottom of the wagon into my right hoof. I maneuvered my hoof near my mouth to mock struggling with the strap. I felt the pin finally pull free of the canister and I gripped the lever attached to the side tightly.

“Okay,” I said, pulling myself off of the ground, remaining beside Timber, “that should have it.”

As soon as the last word escaped my mouth I allowed the canister in my hoof to drop to the ground, and metallic ping could be heard as the lever separated from the rest of the cylinder.

“The fuck‒” BANG!

The confusion from the earth pony stallion was the last thing I heard before my senses failed. My hearing was gone but I still retained some sense of sight as I had closed my eyes a few seconds before the stun grenade exploded. I knew Timber wouldn’t have been as prepared, so I quickly found his body in my partial blindness and drug him along with me as I moved as fast as I could behind the wagon. I knew CB would have had the same preparation and would have gone for Weaver, I just hoped he hadn’t stumbled too far away from where he was standing for CB to tackle him before the effects of the flash wore off.

I knew I had around five seconds to put as much ground between us and the tribals as possible before they could eventually see well enough to aim. Through my shrinking blind spot I spotted a lone-standing wall we had stopped beside and made a break for it, Timber’s shirt still in my hooves. I could only imagine what must have been going through his head when he was suddenly blinded. Hell, if he made it out of this he’d probably file a report on me for that.

Falling drunkenly to the ground, I looked up and noticed I had underestimated the distance to the wall, and that we were still laying mostly exposed on the side of the road. It was around this time I regained most of my vision and began to regain my hearing as well. Looking back towards the tribals I saw that they too had fled, as best as they could, in the opposite direction from the wagon. I noticed the unicorn mare running for the formation of rocks on the side of the road, when she spun around with her automatic pistol levitating near her head and squeezed off a few bursts of fire in our direction. The shots hit the road in front of us and whizzed over our heads as I essentially threw Timber the rest of the distance behind the wall. I followed shortly after.

My senses now fully repaired, I scanned the area for CB and spotted him crouching behind a rock that barely concealed his body. I also noticed that Weaver was nowhere to be seen near him. Looking up over the wall, I glanced forward and saw Weaver laying in the dirt beside the wagon, completely exposed and rubbing his ears with his hooves.

“Weaver!” I yelled, hoping his hearing would allow him to hear me, “Weaver!”

Weaver’s eyes shot up towards my voice and soon spotted my head peering over the wall at him. Even as we laid at least seven feet apart, I could still see the confusion in his eyes.

I knew that we didn’t have any time for anyone to be confused.

“Weaver, get your ass up and move into cover!” I yelled at him once more.

As he hurried to raise himself out of the dirt, a shot impacted the ground a mere foot to his right, soon followed by several more smaller shots impacting the road and wall. I saw enough before ducking back down to realize that one of the tribals had somehow hidden a high-calibre rifle somewhere, and were now firing at us with it.

Weaver sprinted a few feet past the wall on the opposite side of me and threw himself to collapse into it. His breathing was fast, and I was surprised to see that he hadn’t lost his helmet in the fray. I crawled over Timber and ignored his cursing to lay next to Weaver.

“Are you hit?” I asked him, slightly raising my voice to be heard over the occasional gunfire.

“What?” He yelled back at me, still slightly deaf from the blast.

“Are you hit!?”

“No, I’m fine!”

A sudden shot hit the top of the wall just over our heads, making me wish I had been wearing my helmet before this situation. As I remembered laying my helmet on the back of the wagon, I also remembered laying my pack containing the magazines to my battle-saddle there as well, and cursed my amateurity.

“What the hell was that corporal Holder!?” Weaver still yelled.

“A little distraction!” I yelled back, “Can you hear good yet?”

Weaver gave me a confused look, “What?” he finally yelled.

I took that as a “no” as I crawled over Timber one more time to place myself on the edge of the wall closest to the road and to CB.

“I’ll admit!” CB yelled at me from across the road, “You got me with that one!”

“Are you hit!?” I yelled back.

“Negative!”

“How’s the radio!?”

“A - Okay!”

I wasn’t too worried about calling in for backup for two tribals, but to be anywhere without contact to an outpost was a little worrying.

“I want you to lay down some cover while I grab my mags from the back of cart!” I yelled back at him.

“Can do boss man!” Weaver yelled back once more, levitating his submachine gun over the rock, cocking it with his magic, and began firing on the rock formation. Unicorn magic had always set a little uneasy with me, but I was all too grateful for it now.

I waited until I had guessed that CB had fired around half of a magazine, and sprinted out to the rear of the wagon. Immediately I collapsed behind it, and immediately shards of wood began to splinter in all directions around me. The distance from the wall to the wagon couldn’t have been more than six feet, but I wouldn’t doubt it if a couple of shots had landed in the pavement around my feet on the way over.

I instantly found my ammo bag, as well as my helmet, and threw the pack over my back with a quick hoof up and over the wagon’s railing. As soon as I had adjusted my saddlebag for the run back to the wall, a large round impacted the area I had placed my hoof earlier and decimated a large portion of the wagon. I knew after viewing the impact that one of the tribals wasn’t just using an ordinary hunting rifle, somewhere, a sniper was trying to pick us off anywhere we stuck our heads out.

My heart beginning to race with the urgency to get off of the road, I looked back and saw CB finish reloading and begin firing somewhere other than the rocks. I didn't bother looking where, I just darted for the wall. And that’s when I felt it.

If somepony were to take a sledgehammer and hit me in my calf with it, it probably wouldn't have hurt as bad as the bullet that had just done the same job. Clenching my teeth and shutting my eyes, I must have fell just fast enough to land back behind the wall. Dragging myself up to the wall to dig into cover, I looked at the wound on my left hid leg.

A small arms round. It had gone directly through my leg without hitting the bone. I was lucky in that regard. Though I was still bleeding heavily, I would at least be able to walk, despite how fucking bad I’m sure it would hurt.

“Oh shit! Holder!” I heard Weaver yell from the other side of Timber, who had chosen to lay near-motionless behind the center of the wall with his hooves over his head.

“It’s nothing,” I half-lied back to him, “you got any bandages?”

Weaver began digging around in the pouches in his uniform before he finally brought out a roll of cotton bandaging, unrolled a portion of it, and threw it to me. I wrapped my leg as tight as I could, subconsciously cursing everything under the sun in the process, and nodded at Weaver, who returned the gesture and positioned himself back in his original posture to best protect himself from the gunfire that had yet to cease on our position.

I remembered CB’s aiming before I had made it back to the wall, and crawled closer to the wall’s edge to yell to him.

“What the hell are you shooting at!?” I called across the road.

“They’re coming out of the fucking building down the road!” CB yelled back in response.

“Shit...seven armed at least!”

Seven...what the hell had we just walked into? This wasn’t just some looting gone wrong, this was a planned ambush.

“They’re dug in behind the rocks up ahead in some trenches!” I heard weaver yell across the road once more.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Fuck it!” I screamed back, “Get on the horn and radio the outpost. Tell them we need all they can send up here ASAP, I’ll lay down some cover!”

CB nodded in agreement and swung his radio off of his back and onto the ground in front of him. I hit the lever on my battle-saddle so it would swing forward an‒ *click*

“What the fuck?” I said aloud. I kicked the trigger again. *click*

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled in frustration. “Weaver!?” I turned around to face the private.

“My shit’s locked up, lay down some fire so CB can radio the outpost!”

“I don’t have a gun!” Weaver yelled back over the increasing amount of rounds impacting our cover.

“What!?” I looked at him in complete frustration.

“I dropped it when I was blinded and I couldn’t find it!”

“Fucking perfect!” I yelled to myself.

I looked over at CB, who was holding the telephone to his face with his magic and turning a tuning knob with his hoof, yelling into the receiver. Bullets all the while pinging off of the rock to his back.

“Priority! This is callsign Tango Zulu to FOB two, eight, seven, receiving heavy fire from multiple hostiles approximately two clicks south of your location along Highway 18! Requesting immediate assistance on our location, how copy, over!”

As I heard CB radioing in for help, I struggled to get my battle-saddle unjammed, with no success. I swung it off of my back and began trying to force it open with my hooves, also to no avail.

“The hell’s wrong with your gun!?” I head Timber yell from his spot on the wall.

“Don’t worry about it!” I called over my shoulder, too frustrated to deal with any kind of complaints he may have of the current situation.

“Fuck, let’s just leave! All they want is the damn cart!”

“No! Just stay where you are!” I really wasn’t in the mood for whatever plan he had at the moment.

“Fine! You can stay and deal with these jackasses, I’m heading for that house down a ways.”

I turned quickly around to face the wall, but Timber was nowhere to be  seen. Looking down the road, I saw Timber beginning to gallop away from the firefight.

Away from cover.

“Timber!” I called down the road after him.

He just kept on running down the road, never looking back. Not when I called him, not when I saw the rifle shot impact his back and send him rolling through the dirt.

The sniper had picked Timber off after he had ran no more than fifteen feet from the wall and sent him tumbling to a stop a few more feet in the direction of the house he believed would provide him sanctuary.

“Goddammit!” I yelled to no one in particular, “Crazy old fool, I told you to stay down!”

I turned to Weaver and saw him staring wide-eyed in Timber’s direction, seemingly in shock. I knew if he kept on like he was now he’d start acting careless and get hit himself.

“Hey, hey!” I yelled to weaver.

Weaver just looked up at me, shock still in his eyes.

“Forget it now, you hear me!? Focus on what’s happening now or you’re gonna get tagged, you got it?”

I saw him nod, but his mood didn’t seem to change any. I couldn’t worry about it too much now. I looked over and saw CB once again laying down what little fire he could, while trying to levitate the radio’s receiver to his head.

I bent back down and continued struggling to fix my battle-saddle. I could see nothing wrong. No parts were locked up, nothing was jammed in any of the mechanisms, it just wouldn’t swing open to allow me to fire it.

“AHH‒”

I looked up and across the road to see CB gripping his left foreleg. He had been hit.

“CB!” I called out. I didn’t know what I was planning on saying. There was nothing I could do.

Nothing I could do…

Nothing…

“I’m fine Dusk, I’m just running a little dry over here!” CB yelled back to me, “They’ve got our position, support’s gonna be here soon!”

I wasn’t going to do this again. No, not again. I yanked violently on my battle-saddle, pulling any piece in any direction to force it to open. It was about that time I heard the noise.

I had heard it before, in weapons training. The loud, signature “click-clack” of a mounted machine gun being loaded. I knew it was coming in an instant, so I pulled my weapon back against the wall in Timber’s place, and threw myself against the cover.

Dozens upon dozens of rapid-fire rounds began pelting everything around us, in addition to everything else that was already shooting at us. I didn’t understand. Why not just move up and finish us off? Surely they must have known that they outnumber us, why keep up suppressing fire like this?

Whatever the reason, the lead rain kept falling all around. The sound of the muzzle was so loud it couldn’t have been more than forty yards away, maybe in the rock formation. I knew I noticed something different about those fucking rocks. Sons of bitches organized a full squad to attack a single caravan.

During the barrage, I looked once more back towards CB. The rock he had used for cover was proving ineffective against the fixed gun emplacement, and he was struggling to stay in cover as pieces of rock flew around his head. His very cover was being destroyed from behind him.

While watching helplessly as CB took yet another bullet to the shoulder, a round impacted in the wall directly in front of my eyes, blinding me. I tried to look around, but my eyes burned from the flying debris. I rubbed my hooves in my eyes furiously, and when opened them again, the world seemed to slow down around me.

Everywhere around me, I saw bullets flying through the air before impacting and exploding on any and all surfaces available. I turned my head to check on Weaver, and I saw him hunched down, his back against the wall with his hooves on top of his head, crying openly. I saw nothing but fear in his face. Nothing but the utmost feeling of “Please, I don’t want to die.” He sat there rocking himself, as if either pleading with the world itself to make it stop, or just waiting for the one round that would send him instantly into blackness. The round that would ensure that he’d never have anything to fear again. I couldn’t watch anymore.

Still in my lucid state, I turned away from the crying private and towards my friend and partner. I saw him across the road, holding himself, in pain instead of fear, blood coating his shoulders and forehooves. All around him tiny explosions burst in the dirt and rock, sending their miniature shrapnel in all directions. It’s as if the world itself tries to finish the bullet’s job in the form of debris. I saw him lean down over the radio, his face contorted in agony. I didn’t know how many times he had been hit. But when I saw the last round connect, send blood shooting up from his back, it’s as if something inside me suddenly came to life.

I turned to my battle-saddle and furiously kicked the lever. Again, my hoof connected, and again the weaponized contraption refused to budge. I swore at everyone and everything, all the while kicking the lever over, and over, and over again. All the while bullets collided into the ground all around me.

Finally, I felt it. The lever locked into place and the guns swung forward. I grabbed them up as fast as I could and threw them haphazardly onto my back. I jumped up onto my feet, angled myself around the side of the wall, and opened fire.

I couldn’t fire as fast as their machinegun, but I could squeeze the trigger fast enough to force at least a couple of them to take cover and hold fire.

That wasn’t what I wanted though. I didn’t want them to hide, I wanted them to jump up and shoot at me. I wanted to end their lives and I wanted them to shoot at me before anyone else that was in my group. This is what we both deserved, and this is what I was going to make happen.

I realized one of the bastards was making a break for a small ditch on the other side of the road from the rest of the entrenched tribals around the same time I realized I was running low in the magazine I had loaded. I swung around and aimed at him. I could see his face, he knew that he had been had and almost looked like he had prepared for it. Good.

I lined up, and once again time slowed down. Now it was time for one of these fuckers to roll in the dirt in agony. I squeezed the trigger…

*click*

I was empty. Of-fucking-course I was. In the instant I began to move back to reload, I felt the familiar sledgehammer swing right into my chest. The next thing I know, I’m lying flat on my back, tunnel vision beginning to set in. I couldn't find the strength to move any part of my body more than a few inches. The world slowed down one final time.

“This is it,” I thought, “Now they’ll just move up and put a bullet in each of us." I apologized to Weaver. I said I was sorry for not being good enough to keep him alive during his first assignment. I apologized to CB for not checking my weapon before he needed me to use it. I would have apologized to anyone but myself. This was the end that I had been waiting for.

After a while I began wondering why I could still barely hear gunfire. “Isn’t this a bit much?” I thought as I layed, “Going through all this just to kill us from cover.”

I turned my head to glance over to CB one last time, but my vision was obstructed. I could faintly make out the shape of a leg in front of my face. When the disembodied leg moved, allowing me to see to my side, I witnessed two ponies with automatic weapons firing in the direction of the tribals. I turned my head to see Weaver, and I saw two more ponies with the same armament firing in the same position, one of them making their way to the wall I had taken cover behind.

Suddenly I felt myself being dragged a short distance away from the wall. I was greeted with somepony’s face looking down at me, as two others hurried from behind him over to where CB laid.

I could barely make out what the pony above me was saying, but I recognized the uniforms. Support had arrived.

I felt a sudden sense of relief I thought I’d never experience again...and then...blackness…

===        ===        ===

I was floating.

That’s all I could say about what was happening.

Anywhere I looked I was greeted with darkness. I was experiencing a sense of weightlessness that was alien to me. I felt alone, very alone. I felt like this would last forever. Maybe...maybe this is might rightful end. Yes...this is my reward. I curled up and tried to warm myself. I was so cold. It felt like a cold breeze was engulfing me like water, attacking from all possible angles.

Suddenly, there was an explosion above me.

I looked up and saw that the heavens had extended out in all directions. Each constellation was there, every little moon and planet that could be seen with the naked eye. I saw dozens of shooting stars flow like a river through the night sky, coming to rest within the moon itself.

I didn’t understand. I wasn’t supposed to have something like this in the end. Maybe this was a part of my punishment? Maybe I would be given this absolute paradise for a split second, only for it to be taken away forever. I waited, and waited, but the heavens remained. I found the north star. It was exactly where it should have been. All of the stars were. Was...was this real?

Looking down, I saw what looked like a hollow circle of light. A horizon. I could see the light trying to escape from one side. I didn’t want it to. If the light came it would dispel this paradise. For some reason, the light on the horizon seemed to pull itself back behind whatever celestial body it was hiding behind.

Did I do that? Was I in control of this?

I didn’t care either way, as long as the night sky remained for me to view.

Then...there was a feeling. A sense of being watched.

I turned and saw yet another silhouette, except this wasn’t part of the heavens. It moved unevenly, and appeared to grow closer. I focused my vision on the figure as it grew closer.

It was a pony, that much I could tell by now. I tried to move closer, but it was as if I was locked in place; stuck floating in the air just short of the stars of the night. The figure drew closer, and I could make out features; coat  and mane color, height, a face…

No. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I could feel the night sky beginning to fall around me, as if it were cracking and breaking apart.

“It's almost brighter this time, huh?”

I was just going to ignore it. I knew now that it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

“I know you can hear me.”

Just…think...what was it, brick wall? Yeah, that’s it.

“I wish you’d stop trying that. It’s not really good for you.”

I couldn’t take it. This paradise had turned into hell. Please, anyone...please don’t let it be like this forever!

“I doesn’t have to be!”

He...he doesn’t know...because it’s not him.

“All you have to do is accept it, Dusk.”

….please. I’ll...I’ll do anything…

“You know I don't blame you...”

I know...but you should.

===        ===        ===

Light assaulted my eyes. I wasn’t floating anymore, but my head sure felt like it was. The white orb directly above me burned through my eyelids are forced me to turn my head. Once my eyes had adjusted I was able to see that I was laying on a bed that had been fitted with railing on either side. To my left was a table, upon which laid various knives and papers. Looking past the table I saw a wall that was plastered with various posters that displayed pony skeletal and muscle system. “Well,” I thought, “must be the infirmary.”

I checked my legs to make sure there weren’t any IV’s that I could yank out by accident. Seeing none, I tried leaning myself up.

“Ahh!” I yelled in pain. I couldn’t believe the fire that was burning in my chest. Looking down I saw that my body was bare, save for the thick bandaging on my chest and rear leg. Obviously I wasn’t meant to go anywhere anyway with the railing that had been fitted on the bed. Or maybe that was to prevent me from rolling. I began to think that the latter was true. Outside the door that lay opposite my bed in the room, I heard a noise that sounded like the scuffling of multiple ponies. The arrival of two nurses confirmed my suspicion.

“Hey,” I saw one of the nurses, a magenta earth pony stallion, yell out the door, “Holder’s awake!”

The second nurse, an earth pony mare with a light teal coat, walked up to my bedside and began sorting through various papers in a clipboard held in one of her hoofs.

“We were a little worried about you when you got here,” the second nurse said, satisfied with a paper on her clipboard, “we didn’t know if we’d be able to do anything with a machine gun round directly in your chest. You’re a lot luckier than most ponies.”

I adjusted myself in my bed to lean my head up against the wall to get a better view of the room and the two ponies in it.

“Luckily,” the first nurse, the stallion, said, stepping away from the door and towards a countertop on the far side of the room, inspecting something it looked like, “the bullet managed to miss both of your lungs as well as your heart. Getting it out was the trickiest part though. Damn near took us two days to keep from hitting anything important.”

“Well,” I said looking at the bandages on my chest, “it’s just too bad you couldn’t do anyth‒… wait, did you just say two days?”

“That’s right,” the mare replied, setting the clipboard down on the table beside me, “you’ve been out for three days now. We were worried you might have become comatose. Oh, I’m nurse Willow, and that’s nurse Febrile.”

“Nice to meet you…”

Three days. It’d been three days since we got ambushed on the highway. I assumed our caravan had remained undelivered, and I wondered if anypony that came in as backup got hit. Still, even if they did, they couldn’t have taken as bad of a beating as we did. As...we... Oh shit!

“Nurse?” I asked, looking up at Willow, who was still at my bedside. “How’s everypony else that was in my group?”

“Private Garland Weaver was brought in with you,” she half-heartedly, and almost seeming to avoid eye contact as if she was nervous of something suddenly, “he wasn’t injured in the firefight so he was released after being treated for minor cuts and scrapes. He told us what happened to the merchant you were escorting.”

I remembered Timber running in the middle of the attack. If he had just stayed in… wait…

“So, Weaver’s fine?” I asked the nurse, a sense of urgency building up behind the wound in my chest.

“Yeah,” Febrile answered from the other side of the room, “we recommended he not be given any assignments for about a week, the kid seemed pretty shaken up. He’s actually waiting out in the lobby.

“He is?”

“Yep. Poor guy couldn’t stop talking about how everything that happened was his fault. Something about him forgetting his weapon or something.”

Oh...yeah. That part was coming back to me now. I remember seeing Weaver on the wall, panicking. I remember seeing bullets flying into the road and…

“Hey, how’s CB doing?”

Febrile was about to leave the room when he stopped and turned around. He didn’t give an answer for a few seconds and it built up the same urgency in me, this time in the pit of my stomach.

“Cotton Ball’s injuries,” Willow answered before Febrile, allowing him to leave the room pretty quickly, “were...severe.”

“So, he’s in the intensive care wing, right? Am I free to go?”

“No...you see. He was never admitted.”

It felt as if my stomach would collapse in on itself.

“What are you…”

“Corporal Holder… I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Cotton Ball died of his injuries on the way back to the Fort…”

===        ===        ===

I had asked to be left alone, for the lights to be turned off. I don’t know how long I just sat in the dark, but it wasn’t long enough. No amount of time would have been.

It had happened again, and it had been my fault.

Again.

CB...was gone. It didn’t seem real, the thought was just ridiculous. It ran through my mind over and over again. The sight of him behind the rock...that last shot. And it was all because I couldn’t get my rig unjammed. It was all because...I fucked up in the field.

I forced myself out of bed, ignoring all protests from my chest and leg. I just had to walk...somewhere. I couldn’t sit anymore. I walked across the room to a locker and donned my uniform, I wasn’t limping nearly as bad as I thought I would from the wound in my leg. Opening the door to my room, I was once again assaulted with light, this time coming from the brightly lit hallway. Despite the absence of a serious limp, I was still having trouble walking.

As I struggled to carry myself down the hall, all I could see was that road, the cart, that rock. I passed by a couple of nurses and doctors that looked like they might have tried to talk to me, but I just pushed past. I didn’t know where I was going, or why, but I just needed to be somewhere else.

Turning a corner, I came face to face with North Star, CB’s nurse marefriend. The redness of her eyes and the bags underneath told that she had just spent a good deal of time crying. She looked up and saw me, and slowed to a stop in front of me. She said nothing, only staring at me with a face that wanted answers, wanted a reason why. I stopped in front of her, a grief I hadn’t felt in years began to overtake me. I wanted to tell her that I would have traded places with CB in an instant if I could. I wanted to tell her anything to show how absolutely destroyed I was that she’d never see CB again because of my idiocy. Instead, only a small whimper could escape my mouth.

“I… I’m so‒...so sorr‒…” I tried to speak, my voice barely rising over a whisper. North Star just shook her head, as if to cut me off.

“It’s not…” she near-whispered back, “it’s not anypony’s fault.”

Then, she turned her gaze down to the floor, and strode past me, turning the corner out of sight. As she left, I only wanted to tell her that it was somepony’s fault. That it was my fault. Instead, I just turned back around, and walked the opposite way down the hall. Now I really did want to leave. No matter where else I ended up, I just didn’t want to be here.

Passing by the door to the waiting room lobby, I heard a familiar voice. I was wanting to just leave straight out of the doors at the end of the hall, but I knew I needed to stay a bit for this pony. I saw private Weaver trot through the doors of the lobby and right up to me. Febrile was right, and even after three days he still looked like a nervous wreck.

“Corporal Holder, I‒I’m...I just wanted to say how sorry I was‒ how much I‒…” He began speaking erratically, like there were a dozen points he needed to make.

“Kid, kid,” I said, waving my hoof in front of his face, “nopony here but me needs to apologize to anyone.”

“N‒n‒no! Holder...if I just hadn’t have lost my gun…” He went on, and again I waved my hoof at him to silence him.

“No Weaver, I was in charge, everything goes back to me”

“Uh...Corporal, I don’t know if they’ve said anything to you, but… private CB‒” I stopped him a final time. I didn’t need to hear something like this twice.

“I know, Weaver….I know about CB.”

“Oh...Holder, if I hadn’t have been s-so careless‒… Well, what I’m trying to say is...this is all my fault.” With the last sentence, Weaver began to tear up and sniff.

“Now look,” I looked at Weaver as sternly as I could, though I probably didn’t show much sternness in my current state, “I want you to get all that out of your head. I’m sure you would have done your part...you just can’t help it when something fucks up every once and a while. Like I said, all of this… everything that happened… falls back on me, and I’m sorry… for everything. You understand?”

Weaver just nodded his head, tears still forming in his eyes. I began to take my leave when Weaver stopped me again.

“Oh, Holder? Colonel Sienna came down here after we were brought back to the base, he told me to tell you to see him when you’re able.”

“Okay,” I said, “I guess I should head there now.” With that, I exited the infirmary and began my slow walk to the fort’s main offices.

===        ===        ===

“Sienna wanted to see me?” I thought to myself while trodding across the fort’s main yard. The only guess I had was that he himself was going to reprimand me for fucking up so badly. “Good.” I thought. The only thing I felt like I needed right now were harsh words. It’s all I had deserved after the assignment.

I reached the doors to the main offices quicker than I expected, and let myself in. The cool air from the air conditioning might have felt good in my state, but I was already feeling cold. Either that or nothingness. Walking up to the front desk, I was once again greeted by Miss Stamp Seal. She put on a happy face upon noticing me, but I could tell it was more for comfort than legitimate happiness.

“Are we feeling better today, corporal?”

I wasn’t needing small-talk right now, especially coming from a happy face. All I wanted to do was go and take my licks from Sienna.

“Uh…” I said groggily, “Is Sienna in his office?”

“He sure is, but he’s with company now. It shouldn’t be too long though.”

I nodded and walked off to wait outside of his office. I could hear voices coming from inside; sounded like only one other pony was inside. While waiting, I could feel myself being pulled back into the lucidity of the moments before I was hit for the final time. I began to feel as if I needed to take cover immediately.

No, I felt like I needed to get up and move. I felt like I needed to run as quickly as I could and jump onto somepony, to be their cover…

“I’m fine Dusk…” a voice began to repeat in my head, “...support’s gonna be here…”

I shook my head furiously. I didn’t want to hear this again. This isn’t what last words are supposed to sound like. Suddenly, bringing me out of my daze, the door to colonel Sienna’s office opened. Out of the office stepped a unicorn stallion who I identified as a major by the rank on the shoulders of his uniform. I straightened up as best as I could to salute him, and he gave me a quick nod as he made his way to the lobby. I noticed as he left how close his coat color was to Timber’s piss-yellow coat. His looked a little less “piss-y” sure, but the similarity was there. Like most ponies his age, his mane was silver, gained either through time or stress. The whole combination looked a bit odd under his olive-green uniform.

Pulling myself out of thought, I approached Sienna’s door and asked for permission to enter. Once it was granted, I stepped through the door, and saluted the colonel at the head of his desk.

“Yes,” I responded flatly, “they did sir.”

“I give my condolences for private Cotton Ball. He was a fine pony and radio op’ from what I’ve heard.”

“Yes he was, sir.”

“I’m told that the hostiles you encountered were a part of The Brighter Dawn. Seems like they put up more of a fight than they normally do.”

“Y-yes sir,” I answered, remembering the roar of the fixed machine gun, “they strategized more effectively than most tribals. They had dug trenches before hand and had sniper and machine gun cover.”

“Hmm, well, this just helps to confirm my choice.” Sienna raised himself up from his chair and walked over to a wall adorned with various pictures and military honors. Ribbons, medals, one might look at the wall and think that colonel Sienna had been awarded every honor there was to receive.

“Corporal Holder, I must admit, we’ve been keeping a little quiet on the true frequency of attacks by The Brighter Dawn. We worried that if merchants were to know just how often some of their guys took shots at forward operating bases, or attempted to ransack supply drops, they’d stop trading with us. Hell, we’ve even seen some of them start trading with The Brighter Dawn and cutting off contact with any NCR settlements.”

This news came as a little surprising. I had always thought that The Brighter Dawn were just a small tribal group left over from before the NCR’s inception. If they were able to attack more frequently than I thought they were, just how large were they?

“In response to this, major Kabar approached me with a proposition. He’s the pony you might have seen leaving my office earlier. Well, major Kabar proposed the creation of a platoon dedicated to fighting The Brighter Dawn specifically.”

I didn’t know why he was telling me all of this, or why he hadn’t made demoting or reprimanding me top priority over all this information.

“Today,” Sienna continued, lighting a cigar and approaching me, “I gave the okay for major Kabar to begin organizing such a platoon, and I also suggested that you be placed in it as well.”

“S...sir?” I said stunned.

“Yes corporal?”

“Are...are you saying that I’m being transferred to a combat platoon?”

“That is correct corporal Holder.” Sienna took a long drag from his cigar and walked back behind his desk.

“But...but I screwed up! I’m responsible for the deaths of‒” Sienna cut me off.

“No no no corporal, I heard the story from private Weaver. From what he told me, you had no control over the merchant’s actions or your weapon’s malfunction. He also told me that once you managed to fix your battle-saddle you exposed yourself to enemy fire to cover a wounded comrade. Corporal, I don’t believe I could ask for anything more of your performance in the field.”

Sienna opened a drawer on his desk and removed a small wooden box, placing it on top of some papers.

“But sir,” I continued, “I was in charge of a failed escort!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I lead a caravan into disaster and now Sienna was praising my actions! Was I still asleep? Was this still some sort of hell made to torture my mind?

“We can’t ask for perfection in the field one hundred percent of the time corporal,” Sienna continued, opening the box and retrieving a small item from it, “and your performance and leadership capabilities on all other assignments is nothing less than stellar.”

“Sir...when I walked into your office I was expecting a strong reprimand, and now I’m being told I’m being transferred to a combat platoon...I’m a little confused sir.”

“Well, on top of your past performance and the fact that you have experience with The Brighter Dawn, I guess you could just say the transfer came with the promotion.” Sienna explained, walking over to face me.

“Did… you just say…promotion, sir?” My words and mind failed me. I was sure I had heard wrong. Surely this was some sort of sick joke being played on me. When I saw what was in Sienna’s hoof though, my suspicions were put to rest.

“Yes I did,” Sienna said while removing the double-chevron patch from my shoulder, replacing it with a patch consisting of one more chevron. “Congratulations, sergeant Dusk Holder!”

===        ===        ===

New Perks Attained!

Perk 1: Toughness

Years of abuse and injury has fortified your body and made you able to withstand far more than you were before. See? I told you it would be worth it!

20% to Damage Resistance; Charisma -2

Perk 2: Good Eye!

Nopony’s pulling a fast one on you! Detecting enemies has become much easier after being unimpressed by dozens of disguises.

Perception + 1