Silver Lake

The barn of the Turner Homestead smelled of burnt metal and epoxy, it had been three and a half months since Turner had been put on psychiatric suspension. In the time since the rogue storm had hit he had thrown himself into his latest project, when he wasn’t in Canterlot or spending time with Sam he was out in the barn. Sam had suggested that he make her an ultralight, so that’s what he planned to do. At first it had been difficult, his first prototypes had failed miserably. He’d started trying to build it out of wood, but the tools he had limited his success with that. The wing he had tried making from foam at one point, but it seemed too flimsy for his taste. It was far harder than simply scaling up a model airplane.

The aircraft he had a cockpit which was about the size of a gokart with a wing span of around twenty five feet, the frame was metal while the wing surfaces consisted of a type of canvas typically used in sailing ships. It had a tail with elevators and a rudder, as well as ailerons on the main wings. The propeller was mounted to a rear facing engine he had converted from a rather small parade float, something that surprisingly existed despite there not seeming to be any other form of internal combustion engines. Equestrian engineers sure seemed to have their priorities in some weird order if Parade floats had come before generally accessible automobiles.

Turner was busy checking over the wing surfaces and the welds he had finished over the last couple days, the smell had lingered in the barn for some time despite that. By all accounts the only thing that it needed now was a testflight. As Turner was examining the right aileron he heard a knock on the barn door, that told him it wasn’t Sam since she normally just came right in. With a sigh he looked away from the wing and cleared his throat.

“It’s open.” He called out, immediately going back to his checking and rechecking of the wing surfaces which had been painted olive drab. The barn door opened, the midday light shining in as the beautiful summer day made its presence known. Standing in the doorway was an older looking stallion, Sheriff Long Wire. His hat was off, but his badge was still present on his oilskin jacket. “Hey, Boss. Wasn’t expecting you here.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing myself, wasn’t sure I was getting the whole story out of Sam when I bumped into her in town.” Long Wire replied as he walked into the barn, examining the ultralight with an uncertain eye. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Seeing my doctor, tinkering… I taught Sam some stuff about guns, still haven’t actually taken her out to the range yet, though.” Turner replied somewhat absentmindedly as he checked the tension on one of the control cables.

“Good to hear…” Long Wire sounded somewhat awkward, which prompted Turner to stop looking at the aircraft and back at the Sheriff. “Truth be told, there’s another reason I came here to see you. You know I want you to come back when your ready, but have you given any thought to whether you actually want to come back at all?”

“You been talking to Sam a lot, huh.” Turner replied with a slight grunt, he wiped his hands on his old grease covered overalls and walked towards his workbench. “Truth of it is I have considered hanging up my hat… But I’m not sure I can.” The man sighed and leaned against the bench, then gestured to a small cooler resting on the top. “Root beer?”

“Nah.” Long Wire walked around the ultralight and leaned against the workbench, he watched as Turner took his own drink from the cooler and twisted off the bottle cap. “I’d be sorry to see you go, Turner. You’re a good Deputy, and with some of the new funding finally coming in we’ll need some guys to keep new officers on the straight and narrow.” Turner looked at the Sheriff with a raised. “We busted open a narcotic operation when the NEB couldn’t, they couldn’t ignore us anymore after that… At least, I hope that’s the reason. Either way it means we can hire more deputies. I even put in an order to that company Sam owns for some trucks of our own.”

“That’s great, Boss! Glad they finally listened, let’s just hope you don’t need to take down another crime ring next time you need a cost of living raise.” Turner said, taking a sip of his drink while looking at the Sheriff. “But if you’ve got new guys do you really need me back, I’m sure there’s plenty of ponies to cover the patrol routes.”

“Yeah, we have enough deputy recruits and some auxiliaries as well, about twenty or thirty total as I recall… But that’s not what I mean, Turner.” Long Wire cleared his throat, as if uncertain of himself. “I want to offer you a promotion to Sergeant, I know it’s a bit early in your career but unofficially you’ve been helping us out for more than the required three years… That counts in my book, and I’m Sheriff so I can wave that requirement.”

“It’s also a desk position, as I recall.” Turner said somewhat flatly, looking at Long Wire as he sipped his drink. “You know how well I handle sitting around, boss…” The Sheriff looked around the barn, noting the various little doodads and tools that had been either purchased or fabricated on site.

“Not always, I wasn’t planning on having you sit around all the time. You’d be of more use to me out in the field, training some of these new guys.” Long Wire’s tone was somewhat insistent, but he could see on Turner’s face that the man still wasn’t sold on the idea

“I killed a man, Sheriff…” Turner said quietly, setting the bottle of root beer down on the workbench. “You say the promotion is because you need me, but to me it feels like you’re trying to reward me for taking someone’s life.” Long Wire was a bit surprised by the man’s bluntness, though he supposed that there was plenty to be surprised about. “If you want me to take this promotion I need to know that ain't the case.”

“It isn’t, Turner. I ain’t ever lied to you before, and I’m not gonna start now… With the exception of the other human thing, but other than that… Never.” Long Wire said firmly, Turner looked at the ground as he listened to the Sheriff. “I have more deputies now, but I don’t have experienced officers to train them. Put simply, I need you.” The man looked at him for a second, then back at the aircraft he had been working on earlier. He had thrown himself into that task to keep his mind from confronting what he had done, but now came the time face what he had done, accept what happened, and keep moving forward.

“I’ll consider it…” Turner looked over at Long Wire with a genuine expression of honesty. “I have a few conditions though.” The Sheriff nodded quietly. “I want to be out of work by five or six at the latest, and I would like a raise in addition to the salary cut I took when I first joined the department.” The Sheriff looked thoughtful, but nodded again. “Last but not least, I’d like something rather important…”

“What’s that?” Long Wire asked, raising an eyebrow as he considered what the Deputy wanted.

“I’d like to be reimbursed for the parts and labor I did maintaining our only motorized police vehicle.” Turner explained somewhat calmly, which caught the Sheriff off guard. It was quite a sizeable amount that Turner had put into the truck during his time with the department, he had saved the receipts in case there was ever a time that the Department could reimburse him. “It was all out of pocket, and now I need the money for something…. Personal.”

“That’s almost thirty thousand bits, Turner!” Long Wire loudly spoke while he appeared to be in some mild form of shock, Turner quickly shushed him. “I suppose can do that, but not all at once… What do you need that much money for anyway?” The stallion stopped for a moment, then thought for a second, before a look of realization crossed his face. “Sam… You need it for something for Sam.”

“Yeah…” Turner looked at the Sheriff. “We’ve been going out for almost a year or so now, Boss… I can’t imagine life without her. I already got a ring and something else, but it kinda wiped me out savings wise… I want to set up a nice night at a fancy restaurant. Not exactly something I can ask Sam for help with, y’know?” Long Wire got a great big fatherly grin on his face, as if this was something he had been expecting for a long time. “So, can you get it for me or not?”

“I’ll see what I can do… I assume this means you’re coming back?” The Sheriff asked, Turner picked up his root beer and quickly finished it before wiping his lips and sighing.

“Fuck yeah I am… Not gonna leave you and Buckeye to deal with a bunch of recruits who don’t know a citation booklet from a hole in the ground.” Turner tossed the empty bottle into a nearby bucket which contained more trash, he then crossed his arms and looked back at the ultralight taking up the majority of space in his barn. “I appreciate you letting me take as much time as I have, Boss.”

“Don’t mention it, I know this has been rough on you…” The Sheriff said with a slight sigh, as if he had some personal experience with what had happened. Turner figured that over the course of a career spanning forty plus years it was likely that the Sheriff had been placed in the same position. “Can I level with you for a moment, Turner?”

“Go ahead.” Turner said with a shrug.

“I’m not just promoting you because you deserve it…” The Sheriff said with a bit of a neutral tone. “I’ve been at this for long time, missed a lot of years with my family. Did you know I have a granddaughter? I didn’t, at least, not until recently.” The stallion walked towards the ultralight and looked it over, as if trying to figure out how such a contraption would be able to fly. “My vision ain’t what it used to be either, so once I’m sure our new deputies are up to snuff I’m gonna retire.”

“So Buckeye is gonna need a right hand, I get it.” Turner deduced, but the Sheriff shook his head. “Sheriff, if it isn’t gonna be Buckeye replacing you who is it gonna be?”

“I ain’t decided yet, that’s part of the reason I promoted you…” The Sheriff ran a hoof along the wing of the ultralight, he was surprised at the apparent strength of the fabric that covered the wings. “It’s another reason I came out here, do you want to toss your hat into the ring? I wouldn’t appoint you unless you wanted the job.”

“As it stands I don’t get to see Sam all that often when I’m working, even if I start getting out at five or six… Not to mention it’s a political position too, and you know how I feel about those types of things...” The man quietly walked towards the rear of the ultralight and grunted as he started to push it outside of the barn. “It’s a big decision, can I have some time to think on it, talk it over with Sam? It’s something that’d affect both of us.” He grunted as he talked and pushed, the tires rolling over the somewhat uneven ground.

“I understand, but I figured I’d keep you in the loop all the same.” The Sheriff said with a shrug before he began helping Turner push the ultralight out of the barn. “How the heck is this thing supposed to work, anyway?”

“Oh… Like a bird flies, or a pegasus, or my models. Air moves over the wings and creates lift.” Turner explained as the man rolled the ultralight out into a path of pasture that he had cleared of any grass. “The engine turns the propeller, that creates thrust, which pushes the plane forward and thus moves the air over the wings.” Long Wire looked at his Deputy with a raised eyebrow, Turner normally wasn’t the one that knew things about science. “I adjust the control surfaces, the ultralight does different things… Wanna stick around and watch the test flight?”

“You sure this is safe?” Long Wire asked, Turner paused for a moment, then nodded with a convinced look on his face. “Have you ever flown anything like this before?”

“Totally, yeah! Sort of…” Turner said with a shrug. “I played a lot of games with airplanes and flight sims growing, and I can fly the model pretty well… How hard can it be?” The man climbed into the seat and began looking over the control gauges, he wouldn’t be able to tell how fast he was going since he hadn’t figured out how to make an accurate method of checking it in his barn. All he had was a temperature gauge, an Arcane Fuel gauge, and a RPM gauge attached to the metal spar that ran down from the top of the center wing down to the small nose of the aircraft. “Pull back on the stick to climb, push forward to descend. Push on the pedals to adjust the rudder.”

Long Wire watched the Deputy as he ran through his mental checklist, the elevators moved up and down as he pulled and pushed on the stick. The ailerons seemed to work fine as well, and the rudder was smooth as butter.

“Hey, what’s this thing called?” Long Wire asked as he walked around the front of the ultralight. “I know it’s an ultra-whatever… But it oughtta have a name.” Turner briefly looked at the Sheriff, then got up out of his seat.

“You’re right! I totally forgot, I had something for this! I’ll be right back.” Turner got out of the seat and rushed back to the barn, leaving Long Wire to examine the aircraft. It’s olive drab paint scheme blended rather well with the grass that had sprung up on the pasture.

The land had once been farmed, but Long Wire supposed it was nice just having some natural grass popping up on it. The Sheriff sighed, hoping that when he retired he could enjoy the similar view out his own porch. The stallion’s attention was drawn back to the barn as Turner came back carrying a can of red spray paint and what looked like a stencil of some kind, as well as some masking tape. The man walked around to the right side of the nose and taped the stencil in place before giving the spray paint sufficient amount of shaking.

“What’s that say?” Longwire asked while trying to get a peak at the stencil over Turner’s shoulder. The man didn’t waste any time filling in the stencil with the spray paint, after which he removed the stencil and took a step back. “Senor… Seno…”

“Senorita Rebelde.” Turner said as he put the paint and other tools back near the side of the barn. “It means ‘Miss Rebel’, in Spanish. Sam’s family is from a place called Mexico, she speaks Spanish pretty well from what little I’ve heard…”

“What you’ve heard?” Long Wire asked as he looked over the stenciled words with a raised eyebrow. Turner shrugged. “She hasn’t said anything in Spanish around you? Seems odd.”

“I wouldn’t know Spanish from Griffish, Boss.” Turner said with a shrug as he walked back over and looked over his work. “I figure she just doesn’t want to go through the trouble of teaching me another language, she already helped me read Equestrian good.”

Turner left out another idea he had, Sam only ever seemed to slip up when she was really mad and thought she was by herself. He worried that bringing it up might hit a nerve, but he figured naming the ultralight the way he had was harmless enough. The Sheriff and Turner stood there, talking briefly about all the new duties he would be assigned when returning as a Sergeant. For one, taking recruits on patrols with him. On the other hand, he’d get to pull a couple shifts as Desk Sergeant every week. While he hated paperwork, he still enjoyed days where he didn’t have to go galavanting around the county looking for trouble.

“Alright, paint’s dry. Let’s give this thing a go!” Turner rubbed his hands together with a look of excitement on his face as he walked back over to the ultralight and climbed into the single person seat. “Let’s see how this goes, this is the furthest one of my prototypes has made it!” The man double checked the connections to the control surfaces, meanwhile the Sheriff stood back from the vehicle. If he was thought he to intervene he would, but he trusted that Turner had a better idea of what he was doing than he let on. “Stand back.”

The man looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was standing near the propeller. He flipped the power switch and pushed the starter button, the aircraft started to vibrate as the engine started right up, rumbling quietly as it spun the propeller in its idle setting.

“Wait! What do you mean this is the furthest you’ve made it so far!?” The Sheriff shouted over the engine. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“What!?” Turner yelled back, unable to hear what the Sheriff is said. The vibrations smoothed out once the engine had warmed up, the man did one final check of his control surfaces before finally giving a quick salute to the Sheriff. With that Turner gunned the engine, the propeller spun up and began to put off a ton of wind as it started to push the ultralight down the makeshift runway.

Turner was jostled by the uneven ground for around thirty seconds or so before he pulled back on the stick. He was honestly surprised when the ultralight lifted slowly off of the ground and into the air. The feeling was certainly something he hadn’t expected, he had never flown before, even on Earth he had always driven. The man looked down as he rose higher in the sky, levelling off at around a hundred feet up. Below he could see the county stretched out before him in all directions. The roads, the train tracks, and Silver Lake off in the distance.

“Fuck yeah! It fuckin’ worked!” Turner shouted happily, though no one could hear him. He took a couple seconds to adjust the controls, banking left or right and testing the effects of the rudder and elevators. If the Wright Brothers had done it without any training then why couldn’t he? “Okay, that climbs… That descends… Sweet.”

The man banked towards the road that ran along the edge of his property, following it as it went towards the town. Seeing the county from even this slight vantage point was a new experience, it put all the things he saw into perspective. Things were small in the scheme of things, and worry about them wasn’t doing him any good. He could of the warm summer wind against his cheeks as he flew along at what he guessed was around thirty miles an hour. The invigorating sensation was something Turner probably wouldn’t be able to forget… Or get enough of.

As he flew along the road he looked down at the train pulling into the train station, a freight train with a few passenger cars from the looks of it. What caught his attention was the cargo, he counted at least fifteen trucks strapped to flatbeds. They looked like Ford Broncos, and even from a hundred feet up he recognized the emblem of the Evergreen County Sheriff’s Department painted on the doors. It seemed that Sam’s bid to make trucks and cars common in Equestria was paying off. A couple of the trucks were present on a few more flatbeds to the rear, though they lacked any markings.

Below he saw his own truck parked near the train station, he could see Sam talking with a couple ponies with clipboards. The ponies and woman alike looked up when they heard the buzzing of the engine of the ultralight. Turner quietly held out his hand and waved at them before banking to the right and circling overhead. The controls were smooth, he could fly one handed if he wanted to. He orbited over the train station for a couple minutes before levelling off and making his way back towards the house.

The green and gold fields below replaced the small town and the flatbeds rapidly faded back into his mind. Turner looked to the left and found himself looking at the planes in a way he hadn’t seen them before, a look to the left found him looking at the lake for which Silver Lake got its name in the distance. It glistened like a bed of jewels in the summer daylight. He was still only one hundred feet in the air, he could only imagine what he would see if he could fly higher. That, however, was a goal was for another time. For now he had a far more simpler but all the more important objective in mind. Taking off and flying was one thing, but landing… That was where things could go wrong.

“Okay… Okay… Let’s see… First and foremost, gotta line up with the runway…” Turner mused to himself as he adjusted his course towards his homestead. He could see the area he had cleared away, it seemed far smaller now that he was in the air. Despite that he lined up with it as best he could. The rush of freedom he had felt at the beginning of his flight was now replaced by a sensation of urgent anxiety. “What next… Start descending?”

Turner nudged the stick forward slightly, the ground began to get closer as he began the descent. The man was calling on all his memories of flight sims and dog fighting games, he also recalled the various documentaries he had watched about the NTSB investigating plane crashes… Something he wished hadn’t popped into his head at that time.

“Okay, descending smoothly…” Turner could see the strip of grass getting closer with each passing second while he descended, he took deep breaths and tried to control his nerves as the ground began to get closer. He looked over to the side at the ground, he judged he was around fifty feet from the ground at that point. He levelled off briefly, otherwise at his current rate of descent he would hit the ground short of the runway. “Almost there… Stay on target.”

Turner could see the Sheriff, a small speck beside the barn, watching as the ultralight came closer. Turner drew back on the throttle and began descending again. At twenty five feet from the ground he gripped the throttle with one hand while holding the stick with the other, his knuckles were white and his teeth were gritted together. Almost as an afterthought he began talking again. “God… We haven’t talked in a while, but if you’re listening… I could use a hand here.” The man let out one final pent up breath, he could practically feel the grass scraping up against the wheels of the aircraft. “Okay, it’s practically down already. Let’s seal the fuckin’ deal!”

Turner pulled back on the stick, raising the nose of the ultralight and flaring the aircraft. It slowed ever so slightly and touched down on the runway. He had overshot the end by twenty feet, but as soon as his wheels hit the dirt he cut the engine entirely back to idle. The landing was bumpy, and by no means perfect, but Turner eventually coasted to a stop next to the Barn almost exactly where he had taken off from. The man killed the engine and climbed out of the seat, fear and anxiety giving way as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

“Fuck yeah! I knew I could fuckin’ fly that shit!” The man looked over at the ultralight, then over at the Sheriff who had watched the entire landing from the barn. “God damn, Boss. That was intense!” Long Wire smiled and walked towards the ultralight, examining the aircraft with a bit more curiosity. “It worked, it actually fuckin’ worked! Thank you, god!” The man felt like he had just won the lottery, and despite the concern he had felt on his landing, he wanted to hop right back on the controls and get back at it.

“You looked like a Pegasus coming on on that approach there, well, your contraption did.” Long Wire commented, Turner looked down the runway and then back at the ultralight. “Damn happy to see you getting some confidence back. I’m even gladder that I’m not scraping you up off the ground with a spatula.” The Sheriff sighed quietly as Turner looked back towards him and put his hands on his hips. “I gotta get back to it, as much as I’d like to chew the fat.”

“I get it, Boss. Glad you stopped by, see you whenever they clear me to come back, or before that. Who can say?” Turner nodded before shaking the stallion’s hoof. The Sheriff nodded and with that began walking off down the driveway, Turner meanwhile went back to examining his ultralight. The welds looked in good shape, but the tail could use a little work. The landing had been a little difficult, so he was considering converting it to a taildragger. Mostly however he was riding the wave of satisfaction that his design had not only worked, but that he, a complete novice, had been able to fly it. The sound of an engine that sounded like his truck pulling up the driveway soon echoed from around the front of the house, but oddly enough it was accompanied by two other engines.

Turner walked around the front of the barn just as three vehicles came into view while passing by the house. One was Turner’s truck, he could see Sam sitting behind the wheel. The other two that looked like Broncos lacked markings, just like the ones he had seen on his flight. One was forest green while the other was black, driving them was none other than Thomas and Gwen. Turner recalled Sam mentioning that they might come for a visit, but he hadn’t expected them to be driving up. Sam stopped in front of the barn while Gwen and Thomas stopped behind her, they all turned off the engines and exited at just around the same time.

“Hey, Sam!” Turner said cheerfully, waving at the woman. She walked around the front of the truck with great speed, before Turner could say anything else she wheeled back and slapped him hard. “Sam, what the fu-” He was once again cut off as she pulled him into a passionate kiss. Turner was… Happy? But mostly confused. When she pulled away Turner could finally catch his breath.

“You actually did it!?” She shouted, Turner paused for a moment, then let out a slight ‘Oh!’. “What do you mean ‘Oh’?! You could’ve been killed, you’re not a pilot!”

“Well, yeah, but you said come up with a design that worked…” Turner said simply, gesturing around the side of the barn to the ultralight. “How was I going to know it was going to fly unless it, y’know, flew?” Sam looked at him for a second, as if she was trying to figure something out, Turner wasn’t sure of she was gonna smack him or kiss him again. Eventually she sighed, and rather than look upset she looked impressed. “Uh, Sam? You’re kinda sending me some mixed signals here.”

“I just… Was not expecting to look up in the sky today and see you flying around.” Sam said with a sigh as she put her hands on her hips. “Anyway, Gwen and Thomas wanted to come visit, and I had a surprise for you but… Well, you saw them while you were up there. Merry Christmas.” Now it was Turner’s turn to look confused. “I pulled a few strings, since I own the company that makes them. They were supposed to get here for Christmas, but with the Griffon Steel embargo…”

“I get it.” Turner said with a smile before waving at Thomas and Gwen, who both awkwardly waved back. “You didn’t have to do that, Sam. I’m good driving my truck.” The woman shook her head firmly.

“Maybe, but I know how much you love your truck… And I have to admit I kinda like it too. I want that truck to be around as long as possible. Best way to keep it that way is to drive something else, hence… Another truck.” Sam explained, Turner looked at her quietly, as if he was having a moment of clarity. She bought him a truck, so that he didn’t have to worry about his other truck breaking down. His mouth hung agape for a moment, but he eventually picked it up off the ground and was able to speak again.

“You may deny this, but there’s a bit of a redneck in you. You know that?” Turner said with a smirk, the lidded eyes she gave him after that caused a slight blush across his cheeks. “You know what I mean! Jeez, besides… That bit of redneck’s only in you at night.”

“Uh, we’re standing right here. We can hear everything… You know that, right?” Thomas spoke up from the background, both Sam and Turner looked at their guests with a little embarrassment. Thomas seemed to shrug off any awkwardness that might’ve been filling the area and forged ahead. “Hey, Turner! I’d ask how your hammer’s hangin’, but I’ve got a pretty good idea. Nice flyby earlier, by the way!”

“Thanks, Tom. Good to see you too, and you, Gwen!” Turner smiled as he put an arm around Sam’s shoulder and began walking towards the two trucks. “Hey, I get one truck is to replace the other truck, but what’s the third truck for?”

“That one’s mine.” Sam said simply, Turner kissed her briefly as she said that. If she wasn’t his soulmate she was damn close to it. Sure she was from Las Angeles, but no one is perfect. She drank, she was funny, she could carry a tune… She liked trucks, and country music, but most importantly Sam gave Turner something he had rarely had growing up… A feeling of family. “Hey, Paige? You in there? You kinda looked like you were off somewhere else.”

“Yeah, yeah… I’m here. Sorry, was just thinking about some stuff.” Turner said while rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys head in, I just need to put a few things away in the barn.” Thomas quietly leaned to the side in order to get a look at the ultralight that was sitting next to it.

“I’ll give you a hand, that looks heavy.” Thomas said, walking towards the ultralight while Sam and Gwen shrugged and started walking inside together. Turner quickly caught up with Thomas, only when they were out of earshot of the women did Thomas speak. “I gotta talk to you about something”

“What’s up?” Turner asked as he and Thomas stopped beside the Ultralight. Taking it into the barn wasn’t as important as their discussion, so they simply stood there. Thomas briefly looked over his shoulder at the house before looking back at Turner.

“Remember that thing with Discord?” Thomas asked, Turner simply nodded as he leaned against the barn. “He’s a shitty record keeper, but I think I have a lead on who sent him after you. It was Princess Luna.”

“Luna? Which one is she again?” Turner asked with a raised eyebrow, his expression was relatively neutral despite the news. Thomas was a little unsettled by that, he had expected the Deputy to seem a little more upset.

“Princess of the Night.” Thomas explained, the man crossed his arms and looked out over the grass covered property. “She’s always been a little shady to me, even after the whole Nightmare Moon Reform thing.” Thomas looked back at Turner, taking in the Deputies rather scruffy appearance. The stubble and stained denim of his overalls was something he wasn’t quite accustomed to seeing from the usually straight laced officer. “Discord’s mostly harmless nowadays, if he took things as far as you said he did… It had to be on someone else’s orders.”

“Man, it doesn’t surprise me.” Turner muttered as he looked out over his own property. “I appreciate you looking into that for me, Tom. I got enough shit going on out here without looking into whatever ivory tower puppet master set me up out there… Twilight excluded, of course.” The man let out a deep sigh, blowing off some steam with someone who shared his particular disdain for the government as a whole was somewhat cathartic. “You’re into all that political stuff, no offense... Mind if I run something by you?”

“Shoot.” Thomas replied.

“Those draft cards they sent out a couple months back…” Turner walked over the the Ultralight and began to push it back towards the barn, Thomas joined him. He grunted slightly before he continued talking. “What’re the odds of those got them getting called up?” The two of them had little trouble pushing the ultralight back into the barn, at which point Thomas felt free enough to answer.

“Normally, I’d say there’s nothing to worry about… Except I got one too, so there’s plenty to worry about.” Thomas said as he wiped his forehead, Turner closed the doors to the barn with a light thud. “The Griffs have most of their continent on the ropes, I gotta feeling they’re gonna start gobbling up their neighbors until they control every inch of that island right to the bridge that connects us to them.”

“So we’re fucked.” Turner flatly spoke, Thomas nodded. “Well, who knows, maybe the Princesses won’t pull a Chamberlain.” Thomas looked at Turner with a rather surprised expression. “What, I can’t be smart?”

“You can, I just didn’t think you knew who Neville Chamberlain was.” Thomas shrugged as the two of them started walking back towards the house. “Anyway, another thing I wanted to mention, Twilight was kind enough to issue me a special hunting permit, if your interested.”

“We’ll see, Tom. I haven’t fired a gun in a while, and as much as I know I gotta do it eventually, I’m not too keen on the idea. I’ll think about it though.” Turner’s reserved expression spoke volumes about his hesitance, it was clear that in his rational mind he knew that to get back to work he needed to recertify on his weapon… It’s just his brain and his mind weren’t on the same wavelength, his mind was fine with the idea of going to the range. His brain, on the other hand, responded by issuing a strong sense of fear every time he even thought about it. Fighting his own brain for control was both difficult and demoralizing. Despite that he knew he’d prevail, he just needed to take the first steps.

The two men walked up the steps to the back porch, inside they found Gwen and Sam were chatting on the couch in front of the fireplace. Turner and Thomas joined the two of them, catching up with one another about what had happened in their respective provinces of Equestria. For Turner, the day had been an interesting one. Not only had he managed to make his design work, he had been promoted and gotten a new truck. Precisely because of that good fortune he couldn’t help but hear Murphy’s Law riding in somewhere from off in the distance. Still Turner didn’t feel too concerned, he had gotten through plenty of bad spots.