The sum total of Avery’s understanding of his situation remained as thus: 0. At the rate things were progressing, it would remain there indefinitely—granted, he could put more effort into the process. But he was tired. Oh, so very tired. The past few months had finally caught up to him. The very second he had been laid on the ground, his body had relaxed and the cogs in his brain had started turning.

Questions like Where am I? turned to Why am I here? So many questions with so few answers. All of the answers locked up behind the truth—he was a dead man, not because he was going to be dead—only thanks to Brownie’s intervention was that true—but because he should have been dead. It was something that had proved troublesome time and time again, for he had been in many such situations, but this one was different. He didn’t have anything for it, no solution—no way to find the answer, because wherever it was that he had ended up, he was a long way from home. So no, he didn’t have much to go on. The only things he had were a working body and the brain in his head. Both of which were damaged and in need of some good ol’ R&R. He wasn’t sure which of the two needed it more.

But he was more than the sum of his parts. He would find a way, just as he always had. If it took a goddamn galaxy ending hoolahoop to stop him, he would be damned if a little bit of mental blockage did the same.

He was a lot of things but the one thing he wasn't was a philosopher. He didn’t have the processing power to sit and think like this for long and he didn’t like to much anyways. Nothing was accomplished by means of rumination. Only by action did the world spin.

So he would act. He stood up and stretched, casting a glance over theirlittle campsite.

He was surprised by how healed he felt. Ever since Brownie had sprinkled her pixie dust on him, he had gone through a progressive, expedited healing process. It didn’t stop the mental fatigue one bit, but his body felt better than it had previously.

He wasn’t sure how long ago that interaction was, but the sun had been up and now it wasn’t. The ground under his boots was littered with withered foliage and frail twigs. A burning campfire sat in the middle of the small clearing, the smoke billowing into a strung up patch-work of tree leaves and thatch. Brownie worked fast.

Speaking of Brownie, the short little pegasus was curled up in a little ball several feet away from the fire. Her head was tucked into her barrel like a cat, her pith helmet resting on a log several feet away. Her eyes were closed tight and she mumbled subconsciously. He wondered what she was dreaming about. Probably whatever it was that little brown pegasi dreamt about.

He made his way over to the fire. Sitting next to it on a large, oblong leaf lay a collection of different unappetizing-looking pieces of grilled plants. Most likely Brownie’s dinner—at least he figured it was her dinner. Horses ate plants back home so it was likely that tiny mythical ones did as well.

His stomach growled at him for any form of sustenance and he was quick to oblige to its demands. It couldn’t be any worse than that frozen muck they feed us on the ships. Taking a moment to savor the surprisingly sweet flavor that invaded his mouth, he turned to inspect the rest of the camp.

Lying in a pile at the base of a nearby stump were Brownie’s meager belongings, which consisted of one satchel and its contents. There was something sticking out. Something familiar andwelcome. Glancing back at the sleeping pegasus, he went and picked up his prize. He chuckled at what he saw.

Sweet Celestia Cigars: Raisin’ the Sun Since 1295.

Now, Avery wasn’t one to take what wasn’t his—unless it previously belonged to alien bastards that is—but this was the one exception to that rule. Brownie would have to share. He checked the bag again and found no lighter. He would have to improvise.

He popped the covering and grabbed a single cigar out. Walking over to the fire, he grabbed a twig suitable for his purposes and lit the tip of it aflame. All it would take was a little finagling and it would work. Once the little flame stabilized on the stick, he brought it up a few inches away from the cigar and began the lighting process.

After several minutes, it was ready and he took a deep drag. A familiar warm blanket encased his lungs and the light haze born of non-consensual abstinence from his daily smoke schedule brought him a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long while. He hadn’t had a smoke since his pack of Sweet William Cigars was incinerated at some point during the battle on the Ark.

He sat down, back against the tree trunk and waited—not for anything in particular, but he waited nonetheless. He didn’t like his circumstances one bit but he would roll with the punches. It wasn’t hell and it certainly wasn’t heaven but it was a break and that would do. It would have to.

So with a blank mind, and a smile on his face, Avery waited. He wasn’t sure for how long but after a while, he heard a pointed cough behind him. His companion was awake and she looked none too pleased. She pointed at her bag than to him. But now was not the time to play angry charades. Now was the time to take a break and smile, while he still had something to smile about. If a smoke break wasn’t something to rejoice over, he didn’t know what was.

He motioned her over. “Care for a smoke? I only charge a dollar per drag.”

The little pegasus ambled on over to him, all the while jabbering in that strange language of hers. “Your accent is charming, Brownie, but I'm afraid I can’t understand a word you're saying—but I can guess.” He patted the ground next to him in a welcoming manner. “Come, let the sexy alien entertain you for a bit.”

Brownie mumbled angrily, but she still sat down next to him. He offered the cigar to her and she looked at him with a hesitantly raised eyebrow. “C’mon now.” She grabbed it with a shaking hoof and brought it to her lips. Mirroring what Avery had done, she inhaled. Her body shuddered.

Then she made a mistake—she exhaled into the cigar. She turned into a spluttering mess, coughing violently. The sight made him laugh. He gently took the cigar from her grasp. “Sorry, didn’t know I was dealing with a rookie.” He briefly wondered why she even had the cigars in the first place if she didn’t smoke, but brushed the thought off. Wasn’t any of his business why.

“I remember my first time. Thought my chest was on fire. You get used to it.” Brownie looked at him in incomprehension. The sight caused him to sigh. Just another reminder of how far away he was from home. But enough of that, now was a time to smile. He was on a smoke break.

With an outstretched arm, he pulled a protesting pegasus closer to him and with the other, pointed at the small spattering of stars visible in the canopy parting above. “Let me tell you a story—you see those stars up there? A long time ago on a ring world far far away, a kickass sergeant, an aussie, and a quiet spartan walked into a bar…”

Author's Note

Sorry the chapters are so short, the next one will be longer. Hope you like it! Also, I don't smoke so I may have been wrong on the smoking scene, just comment if I fucked up and what I can do to fix it.