Part Two

Chapter 11: Iron Sights

“Aha!” I shouted triumphantly, pressing the terminal’s enter key. The device beeped and refused my password, while the gadget I’d plugged into it read ‘6/16 match’. I groaned loudly. “Ponyfeathers.” This had been my last attempt before the device needed to be reset, and clearly my guess had been way off. Though I was now fairly confident that the password ended in ‘123456’. I clicked the button to power-cycle the machine; it was faster than waiting five minutes for the internal timer to run out, and I really didn’t want to risk getting locked out.

At least this short wait period gave me some time to relax. This was the… eleventh terminal I was breaking into today. At least the job paid well, despite being so tiring. Then again, I’d gotten a terrible night’s sleep, so that probably also explained why I was messing up so much today. The terminal beeped happily as it completed its reboot. Come on, just a bit more work, then you can rest, I encouraged myself, even though I knew I still had a lot of work to do. I looked at the sheet of paper in front of me keeping track of my attempts. Could it be…? I typed ‘ilovebooks123456’, and the terminal unlocked.

I simultaneously felt happy that I finally cracked this nightmare of a terminal and frustrated beyond belief at the smooth-brained pony who’d made this their password. Whatever, they were long dead. I was also a little mad at myself for having needed so much time cracking this easy password.

I skimmed through the mail entries. Most threads felt like simple workplace drama—something I couldn’t care less about. Starting to lose hope of finding anything interesting at all and bracing myself for another annoyingly difficult terminal to hack, I spotted one interesting subject line; ‘Maintenance access’. Come on, come on, come on! I pleaded, opening the conversation. Reading the first message diagonally, my eyes stopped on “Can you reset my password for the mainframe? It locked me out after some typos…” I skipped to the next message.

“I swear, this hotel would fall apart without me. I've reset your password to ‘ccTME6U52CjjYntF’. You should change it to something I don't know. And yes, I do know that 'ilovebooks12345' is your current password on your personal terminal. Change it too. Your username hasn't changed." So she’d just added a single six?

Progress! With this, there was a chance I could log into the mainframe now. I first needed to find this employee’s name and by extension his or her identifying number. That should be fairly simple. I typed the command to retrieve their username, and the machine replied ‘rose_charm’.

Thankfully I’d already copied over the list of employees from the terminal manager’s own machine. I went one page back in my notebook. “R, r, r…” I muttered while skimming the list. “Ha! Rose Charm. Employee ID… 73”.

Finally, I ran the program that all the terminals in the hotel had installed on them, selecting ‘Connect to mainframe’. ‘Enter EmployeeID’. 73. ‘Enter Password’. ccTME6U52CjjYntF. ‘Incorrect username or password’. So she had changed it. Luckily for me, I figured she had been the type of pony to use the same everywhere.

I tried again. ‘Enter Password’. ilovebooks123456. ‘Welcome, rose_charm_73’.

Bingo! Now all I had to hope for was that Rose Charm had sufficient privileges to manage the tower’s talismans; that had been what I’d been hired to do, after all. Although, even if she didn’t—or he, but with a name like that I figured Rose Charm was a mare—having any kind of direct access to the mainframe would significantly improve my odds of obtaining the root password. Hacking directly into it had already been attempted by my employer.

Unfortunately for me, the terminal then continued, ‘Hardware related error. Reboot required. If the problem persists, please contact a licensed RobronCo technician.’ I confirmed with a stroke of the enter key, and the connection reset.

Damn, that meant I needed to find a way inside the room. Doctor, the ghoul who was paying me to do this, probably had the key, but I didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary, and finding the old buck and getting back here would have taken at least ten minutes, which was almost definitely longer than it would take to pick the door open. Come to think of it, I did like the idea of relaxing with a nice lock to work on after spending half a day hacking terminals…

The door leading to the mainframe was in the middle of the corridor. I pressed its handle, and, unsurprisingly, it stayed closed. Levitating out my pick and flathead screwdriver, I took a peek inside the lock. A seven wafer tumbler lock. Not a breeze, but well within my capabilities. I applied torque and scrubbed the pins several times. As expected from a proper lock, it didn’t immediately give in, though it did provide me a good feel for it. After taking a few moments to slowly fidget with the lock, picking each wafer individually, I had it open.

It really wasn’t any challenge, but the simplicity of the task was a welcome change of pace from hacking terminals.

I’d actually taken up an interest in the latter once I’d realised it was overall similar to picking locks. On top of that, doors with purely electronic controls existed, and getting them open was something I sometimes needed to do as a prospector. If I was to specialise in opening doors, best know how to open most kinds.

Back to work. I inspected the mainframe. I had no way of knowing it was running other than for a few blinking lights. The main control terminal’s screen was non-responsive. Thus, I decided to forcefully shut it off, then turn it back on. Hopefully that wasn’t too crude of a way of rebooting a mainframe. It appeared to be the only one I had anyway. I gave it a few minutes to finish initialising; I wasn’t very knowledgeable in larger computers, but that should be enough.

Rather pleased with myself, I returned to the terminal I’d left logged in. Running the remote management program again, I was pleased to find no error messages upon login. Unfortunately, it turned out that Rose Charm had been the accountant and was only able to edit the ledger. Just my fucking luck.

Still, better than nothing. This opened a vector of attack, as I got to finally start making guesses on the admin password. Finally, the end of this awful day was in sight. All I needed to do was hack this one terminal.

My head throbbed painfully as the mainframe rebooted for the forty-second time this afternoon. After the first three times, I’d figured out it needed between five minutes and fifty-seven seconds and six minutes and three seconds to complete a full power cycle. Even with the generous twenty attempts between each required reset, I still managed to, on average, figure out less than one character per reboot.

It turned out that the vulnerability that was commonly present in remotely managed systems didn’t work on this one, and not only had I spent a lot of time breaking into terminals, all that effort was completely wasted as I needed to attack the root account directly.

To add insult to injury, this absolute sadist of a system administrator had a thirty character password, and it was entirely random, which was most likely why Doctor had claimed it unhackable. Best I could do was guess one character at a time. By the fourth reboot, I’d started taking some time breaking into other terminals, in hopes of finding further hints. Instead, I ended up confirming my worst fears; the root account was the only one with direct access to machinery control, meaning that in order to get the job done, I needed that password, or else I wouldn’t get paid.

The egg timer went off, and it took all my motivation to get off the employee lounge’s couch and walk over to the nearby terminal. I was glad we’d already sold off all the drugs we’d scavenged, along with everything else we’d found, because there was no way I could have resisted the urge to take a Mint-Al with how battered my brain was currently.

Sitting down in front of the terminal, I got to work cracking the last letter of the password. The device kept replying ‘29/30 match’, taunting me. After a few attempts, a delayed wave of guilt at my previous thought hit me. Sweet Celestia, I shouldn’t even think about that kind of stuff. I’d known somepony who almost had her life ruined by Mint-Als—at least according to her cousin. I wondered how she fared now. Last time I saw her… was almost two years ago.

While I didn’t like the fact that she was now working for slavers, I couldn’t really blame her or her cousin for their choice. They were both amazing fighters, and it would have been unfair to judge them too harshly for simply doing what they were good at. How would I feel if somepony considered me ‘bad’ for picking locks?

I wanted to see her again, if only to chat with her and catch up. Although some part of me still hoped she would help me learn to sing. Now that she has a proper job, I don't think she’ll have the time for that. And yet, I couldn’t help how I felt, no matter how silly it was.

Come to think of it, I owed her a lot. Not only had she saved my life on multiple occasions, her harsh words had also been my motivation for working on myself more. While I still couldn’t fight—‘Exact match! Access granted.’ the terminal informed me, momentarily drawing me out of my thoughts. I pushed aside my celebration for now. While I still couldn’t fight, I’d gotten considerably better at staying hidden and not needing to fight. On top of that, seeing someone younger than me act so mature and competent had inspired me to act less childish too. Banter told me that I didn’t need to grow up so fast, but Petal’s reception to my resolve had been positive.

Anyway, “FUCK YEAH!” I screamed, my shrill voice cracking and echoing through the empty ground floor.

“So, mister ‘Doctor’,” Banter told the ancient ghoul, “Lockpick did as you asked, but it turned out the task was much harder than originally described, so we would like to request some extra payment for the effort.”

“Yes, I’ve had time to check out the functionality unlocked by the mainframe,” replied the stallion in an accent that was, as far as I knew, unique to him. It gave him a suave aura, while making his presence even more imposing. The way he pronounced ‘s’ sounds struck me particularly, as if he was threatening us with every phoneme. “Unfortunately, some of the talismans are non-functional, but finding suitable replacements shouldn’t be too difficult.” Turning to me, he said, “You did a splendid job, little one.”

He ended up giving Banter five hundred caps—one hundred and fifty more than originally agreed upon. The high pay had Banter originally very skeptical—it seemed too good for what it was—but as the ghoul explained the difficulty of the task, and how hard he’d been struggling to find somepony willing to do it, the yellow buck eventually agreed it was fair payment.

“You know,” said Petal, “this place is a lot cheaper than Tenpony Tower, and Doctor is clearly trying to copy it. I don’t see why we should try to apply for citizenship there when we could be one of the founding members here.”

“Haven’t you seen the rest of the inhabitants here? I wouldn’t trust half of them to not be ex raiders or bandits. Besides, I took a peek around the fields they have all around here. They may not call them slaves, but those ‘interns’ are clearly held here against their will. I talked to one, and she told me she was only paid in food and shelter, but didn’t even dare mention she wasn’t allowed to leave. The only silver lining is that they seem to be reasonably well-treated, apart from how much they need to work.” Before she could reply, he added, “Besides, we’ve already paid a lot to process all that paperwork back in Manehattan; it’s money we’re not getting back if we cancel out.”

Petal groaned. “You’re right, and I know that. It’s just…” She sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to deal with a conscience. Getting rich seems like an easier endeavour when you’re willing to do bad things and put up with bad ponies.”

“You’re telling me,” he concurred. “Anyway, we should rest today and leave tomorrow at dawn.”

I chimed in, “Still towards Las Pegasus ruins? How long will we be staying? ‘Cause that place gives me the creeps.” I really didn’t like the idea of going back there. The clouds over the crashed ruins of the city always seemed so much darker than anywhere else, and the many shady alleyways never inspired much trust, either.

“The outskirts are fine, it’s just downtown that’s a hell-hole,” Banter corrected. “But I was thinking Manehattan, actually. We’ve made quite a few caps more than I expected, and at this rate I’d hate being robbed and having to give up all that. With what we have, I think we’re in the final stretch for that fourth floor suite that’s for sale.”

I was relieved. Manehattan wasn’t great, but by wasteland standards it stood head and shoulders above other places, like its direct neighbour Fillydelphia. Somnambula had been surprisingly calm as well, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was just because there were so very few ponies here compared to how large the city itself was. Surrounded by emptiness, the town was hard to reach through the desert it was situated in.

Now that Doctor had taken over this region with his ‘unpaid interns’, agriculture was starting to flourish—at least for cloud-covered-wasteland standards. My work on the mainframe allowed him to get clean water on every floor of the hotel, self-repairing walls, and even proper heating. Just that would get a lot of ponies to try to move in, and then, according to his plans, even more to move to the region just for the access to fresh produce.

Banter had asked Doctor for a brief summary of the city’s story—after all, the ghoul had already been old when the megaspells fell; he used to be an archeologist, even. Once a small town at the outskirts of the southern Equestrian desert, it exploded in popularity with tourists in the years leading up to the Great War. Surprisingly, even after the war began, its popularity barely wavered. If anything, according to the ghoul, ponies needed an escape from the daily stress and came here to forget about the war—which was especially effective given how far from all front lines the city was.

With my limited knowledge of history, I didn’t understand why Equestria’s southern border hadn’t been contested by zebras. I wondered if Iron Sonata would know any better, given her education. For a second, I envied her for her upbringing, but immediately felt guilty as I remembered what she’d told us about her father. Granted, I’d had similar issues with my mother, but hers was undoubtedly worse.

I turned my attention to Banter and Petal, who were discussing our route to Manehattan. I almost wanted to ask them to visit Fillydelphia, but every time I’d asked that we see Iron, they denied the request. I simply kept my mouth shut. Maybe once I grew older I could risk going there myself.

I was awoken by Banter, who placed a hoof over my muzzle and whispered, “There’s somepony outside. Couldn’t see his face, but he’s approaching this cabin.” Huh? Why was anypony this far out? The shack was in the middle of a vast stretch of nothing between Somnambula and Dodge Junction. The last small town we’d seen was almost two weeks away. This was especially odd if I considered the fact that we were off the main roads. Not to mention—it was dark outside.

I groggily nodded to Banter, signalling I understood the situation, despite my eyes wanting to close on their own.

“I’ll try to talk with him. Hide and have your gun ready. Petal’s already hidden behind the desk.” I followed his orders, levitating out my 9mm pistol from my saddlebags. I hated using it, but this was an exceptional situation. Luckily for me, I easily fit behind the overturned commode.

My instinct told me this wasn’t a bandit. This part of the wasteland was very scarcely uninhabited, so bandits and raiders were uncommon. Uncommon didn’t imply impossible, however. Even the alternative options weren’t great. Of course, it was entirely possible that this traveller had just accidentally stumbled upon our hideout. Good thing we’d hidden our cart in some nearby brushes. With all these coincidences, it was pretty easy to believe this pony had been actively tracking us, and that wasn’t a pleasant thought in the slightest. My heart was pounding in my chest, so loud I was afraid everypony could hear it.

Whoever this was, we could only hope Banter would be able to talk him down. If not, things would have to end violently, and ideally without any one of us getting hurt. It was three on one, after all. Suddenly, a knock came from the door. If this is a bandit—big ‘if’, my mind insisted—then he’s peaceful enough to knock before attacking. Maybe we were lucky and he just wanted our possessions? In that case we might be able to kill him before it came to that.

“Yes?” Banter cautiously called out.

“I don’t mean any harm,” replied a female voice in a familiar, barely suppressed accent. I knew it from somewhere, just where?

“What do you want? Who are you?” he questioned as my mind tried to place the voice.

“Does the name Iron Sonata ring any bells?” she asked, smugness seeping into her tone. Yes! That explained why I recognised her voice!

Suddenly wide awake, I couldn’t resist the urge to run over to the door and magic it open. Banter tried stopping me, but he was too slow and ended up behind the door. In the night’s dim light stood a figure much taller than I expected, wearing a leather coat. Only when I lifted my gaze was my sudden spike of worry quenched. My eyes met hers—as cold, calculating, and beautiful as ever. I embraced her in a hug, which she only partly reciprocated. This endeavour was made additionally difficult by her large saddlebags.

After a few moments, I let go of her and took a few steps backward. In my peripheral vision, Banter was shaking his head in disapproval. “Iron! Why are you here?” I asked, unable to keep my excitement hidden. On a second glance, I could see her mane had grown back, though was still kept pragmatically short.

“I’ve been tailing you for the better part of four months and finally caught up,” she replied flatly. Normally, those words would have set off panic in my mind, but given who spoke them, they simply sparked confusion.

Raising an eyebrow, I inquired, “Why?”

“I was lonely and wanted to tag along with ponies I actually like,” she answered, mild regret in her voice, along with an undertone of hope.

Lonely? Wasn’t she part of a mercenary group? “So you mean you didn’t like the ponies—or I guess griffins—in Fillydelphia? I can’t blame you, I can’t really be around gruff mercenary types, either. What about Miss Candy, did she stay there?”

Subtly, her eyes turned sad, and my stomach tied itself in a knot. Oh no, don’t give me bad news. “Candy is dead.” The knot squeezed. “Was murdered before we even arrived in Filly, and I never joined them there.”

This couldn’t be true. “M-Miss Candy is… dead? I-is that what you said?” I whimpered, hoping I’d misheard or misunderstood. As she simply nodded, I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and then another. “I’m so sorry. How… did it happen?” She was such a good pony, the embodiment of kindness…I could tell Iron wanted to look away, but she stoically held my gaze. How was she this strong?

She shook her head. “It’s a long story, and I’d rather not talk about it right now. Way too tired and not in the mood to dig up shitty memories. I just wanna collapse,” she admitted, yawning emphatically.

As much as my mind raced at this revelation, I couldn’t stifle my own yawn. Would it be wrong to sleep off the shock? “Good idea,” I concurred, “I wanna go back to bed as well.” I just hope I’ll actually manage to fall asleep, now.

Banter, however, was of a different opinion. “Uh, before that. Could you give us a few minutes and wait outside?” Iron shrugged and closed the door, and the three of us grouped up. Banter continued in a low tone, “Look, I know you like her a lot, but I’m not sure if taking her in is the best idea.”

“What? Why not?” I protested. We couldn’t just make her sleep outside, could we? Then again, she did have a tent on her.

“I have a bad feeling about her,” he explained. “She doesn’t seem trustworthy. Already when we first met, I felt like this filly wasn’t right. Candy Cane seemed honest enough for the two of them, but every time I’ve had a conversation with Iron, it’s gotten worse. I can’t really put it into words, but I can try to list a few reasons why. First of all, did you hear how cold she just sounded when announcing her surrogate sister’s death?”

“Just because she might not show it, doesn’t mean she’s fine and isn’t hurting,” I rebutted before he could go on. “What if she just doesn’t want us to pity her, when the victim here is obviously Miss Candy?”

He sighed begrudgingly. “Whatever. I still don’t believe that, but you raise a good point. However, that doesn’t excuse the fact that she was willing to work for slavers,” he asserted.

“What, should she just waste her talents and never get anything accomplished? You can’t deny that Fillydelphia stallion sounds convincing with his talks of building a new Equestria. The fact that Miss Candy was on board with it means the two believed it would help the wasteland, not mess it up further.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously defending slavery right now, Lockpick?”

“No, but I am saying you’re acting hypocritical. You judge Iron so harshly, yet don’t seem to mind that Miss Candy had similar ideas.” Or maybe you were so in love with her that you would have let her get away with anything, I desperately wanted to say. I knew not to, though, as it would only sour the mood further.

Banter went quiet, looking for words. A rare sight, really. After a few moments, he finally spoke up, “Even so, I’ll always be creeped out by how nonchalantly she mentioned gunning down her father. Just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You damn hypocrite. You know very well her father deserved what she did to him. If you ask me, he deserved worse. Didn’t you even say it was justified?” By now, I was livid. Why was he so hellbent on painting her as a bad pony?

“I did, but no filly should be that cold when talking about murdering one of her parents. She should at least have shown some shock, anything!” He was no longer trying to keep his voice down, as he practically shouted that last sentence. “It’s the same when she talked about her past. How can a filly be so calm when talking about being raped‽”

“What the fuck do you even know? It’s the same shit as before. You assume you know how she feels based on what she shows. Your parents always treated you well. You’ve never had to hold back tears in front of them, have you‽ Your mother didn’t beat you whenever she got irritated; she didn’t kick you in the gut if you dared cry or even showed the slightest sign that you might cry! You have not the slightestidea what I’ve been through!” Immediately after I closed my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks, I realised my mistake. “I mean what she’s been through,” I corrected lamely.

A moment later, Petal was hugging me close, and I returned the embrace as I could hear Banter struggle for words for the second time tonight. “I-I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to…” he stammered. Petal shushed him, brushing my head with her forehooves as I pressed my face into her chest.

As I slowly calmed down, she told him, “This is just your gut telling you you can’t trust her, isn’t it?” I couldn’t hear a response, so I could only assume he nodded. “I know it’s not usually wrong, but could we pretend like it is, this time? What would Iron even do to us?”

“Maybe she would want to sell us out to slavers?” he speculated. “I know it doesn’t sound very plausible, but that’s not a reason we should just blindly trust her.”

“I agree, but I think we should strike a compromise. Lockpick obviously wants somepony her age around, and I’m not saying we should believe every word Iron Sonata says, but we should maybe give her a chance.”

“Fine…” Banter reluctantly nodded while I internally celebrated. Petal didn’t speak much, but when she did, she seemed to always know exactly what to say. “We need to come up with rules, though. How do we allow her to stay with us, while minimising the risk of betrayal.”

I… didn’t want to hear this. I wasn’t in the right headspace to listen to them discuss how the pony who’d inspired me couldn’t be trusted. I understood why it was necessary, but I didn’t like it. I wiggled free from Petal’s gentle embrace and quietly informed them, “I’m going outside. Tell me when you’re done, so I can go back to sleep.” I opened the door.

After they acknowledged my statement, Banter whispered to Petal, “For one, we shouldn’t trust her with watch duty. If she does have ulterior motives, she’d probably use the time when we’re all asleep.”

I didn’t hear her response as I’d already stepped out into the wasteland. Iron sat on the other side of the road, legs folded underneath her. With her magic, she was illuminating the book she was reading. Having noticed my presence, she telekinetically folded a corner of the book and closed it, placing it in her saddlebags. In the brief moment I’d looked at her, my eyes had gotten used to the brightness, and I was blinded by its absence.

“Aren’t… aren’t you worried you’ll attract some kind of critter when you light up like that?” I asked tentatively, attempting to seem calmer than I really was.

“Nah, even in complete darkness, my PipBuck has me covered,” she replied dismissively.

“Oh, right,” I said awkwardly before going quiet. There wasn’t anything I really wanted to talk about, and I could only think of my frustration at my two companions—specifically Banter. I mentally groaned. Screw it, if it was all my brain wanted to talk about, then so be it.

After an awkwardly long pause, I finally spoke up again, “Sorry if this is outta nowhere, but I’m kinda peeved at these two right now.” At her arched brow, I continued, “You see, they’re currently talking about how they wanna make sure you don’t stab us in the back…”

“I figured,” she replied, “but why tell me? Shouldn’t you keep that to yourself?”

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t know anyway… Even if you didn’t, you’re pretty sharp and would have caught on eventually.”

She snorted in amusement. “Thanks.” Despite the dark, I still spotted a glimmer of pride in her ruby red eyes, as well as a smug smile on her lips.

“Besides, it’s like I said. I wish they didn’t act this way towards you,” I told her, averting my gaze towards the ground. I knew better. I knew it made sense for them to distrust her. But she was Iron! She was my friend! It just didn’t sit right with me.

“I mean, it makes sense. I’m practically a stranger at this point. How long has it been since New Detrot… two years? Feels like longer. Feels like an eternity, really.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve certainly changed a lot.” On one hoof I didn’t like small talk, but she had said she was too tired for in-depth conversation, and I needed a small distraction as well. “Well, I mostly just noticed how much you’ve grown.”

Another shrug. “I mean, so have you,” Iron Sonata responded flatly.

“Well, I’m not done yet. Meanwhile, you’re already as tall as Banter!” I’d only been a little bit shorter than her last time we’d met. That growth spurt was insane!

“I think I’m still growing, too. Both my parents were quite big,” she admitted.

“Damn,” I muttered. She would be one heck of an imposing mare. Well, once she put on some more weight. Then again… she definitely didn’t seem as fragile as when I’d first met her. “You’re also a lot less thin than you used to be, I think. That’s reassuring.”

“Mhm!” She beamed proudly. Woah. She wasn’t just being smug, she was genuinely happy. So she was worried about it as well, huh. “I added a few things to my diet, and the extra protein works wonders. I even lost a bit of weight over the past half-year, given I wasn’t exactly in the best place, mentally.” As she spoke that sentence, her tone gradually shifted from gleeful to morose, before she fell quiet.

“What… happened?” I curiously inquired.

A frown formed on her lips. “I… I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Too tired.”

For the few minutes we sat there, a heavy silence draped over the two of us, before it was finally pierced by Iron again. “Did you ever take up singing? I’m… sorry I broke my promise.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “Didn’t have the chance, no. And don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. You had other things to do, and I understand that.” After a short pause, I added, “Besides, I only recall you promising to not make fun of me, so you didn’t technically break it.”

She chuckled softly. “I guess you’re right.”

Once more, silence fell over us, this time surprisingly comfortable, which soon was again broken by her. “You’ve matured,” Iron Sonata told me.

“I’ve matured? Have you seen yourself? You remind me of those mercenaries who’ve survived decades travelling the wastes. Obviously not as experienced, but you still strike me as somepony who knows what she’s doing, and that’s just from the way you talk and dress.”

Another smug smile. “You flatter me. I don’t feel like I’ve changed at all, though. I’ve just learned to survive and get along with ponies.”

“Well, if you put it like that, I haven’t matured either. I’ve just learned to be less of a liability, and more helpful to my family.”

“No no, you definitely sound more confident than last time we spoke. You’re no longer a scared foal,” she rebutted. “You must have gone through a lot.”

“I suppose. It’s thanks to you, though, if it happened. I wouldn’t have made any such improvement without the wake-up call you gave me.”

Oddly enough, this caused her expression to turn sour, rather than smug or proud. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What? Why?”

She sighed. “It’s just… I was forced to grow up way too quickly—more so than most wasteland orphans, I think. Even back when I lived in the stable, I wasn’t a normal foal by any stretch. When I see other children nowadays, I get sad and envious; envious of an innocence I’ll never get back.”

My jaw dropped momentarily, and I stared at her, unsure what to reply to this. Instead, I ended up embracing her in a hug, which she this time returned fully. After a few long moments, we separated, and I said, “It’s ironic, that sounded like something a grown-up would say,” in a half-joking tone.

She… pouted. Was she… “Are you doing that to prove me wrong?” I wondered out loud.

“Maybe so,” she asserted.

Smiling, I stuck out my tongue. I would let her have this moment. In response, she blew a raspberry, and I couldn’t hold back a giggle. She joined my laughter, and neither of us was able to stop for a long while. I’d have gotten worried about making this much noise at night, but that rational thought could not break the moment. However, what could break it, was her painful-sounding coughing fit that lasted worryingly long.

I stared at her in shock. When it eventually stopped, her expression had drastically shifted. Gone was her calculating gaze with undertones of smugness. In its stead, confusion and fear were painted all across her face, the former more intense than the latter. “Are… you okay, Iron Sonata?” I quietly asked.

Confounding me yet again, she stuttered, “Y-yeah.” An obvious lie. I deadpanned her in response, making sure my gaze portrayed how unconvinced I was. “I-it’s just… I get episodes of amnesia,” she quickly confessed, having noticed I’d called her bluff. “B-by the way, I go by ‘Iron Sights’ now,” she added hesitantly. I smiled at the familiar name, one that Banter himself had suggested, but didn’t press on. What a strange condition…

“Is that why you’ve really come see us? I can’t speak for the others, but I’ll gladly be there for you if you need my help,” I replied. She suddenly sounded so utterly weak and pathetic, I couldn’t help but offer support. I just hoped her cough wasn’t anything serious, despite how it sounded.

“I… don’t know.” She looked at the ground in shame. “The reason I mentioned it is…” I gave her a moment, but she never finished her sentence. Was this even the same pony? How was she so meek all of a sudden? Is she…?

“Yes?” I encouraged her.

“I… I’m having an amnesia episode right now,” she finally admitted. She is. “I don’t remember where I am or how I got here. I mean, I remember you, and I know we were being silly just now, but I don’t know what we were talking about beforehand, or how our conversation even started…”

“But… you were fine just a minute ago, what’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know. It usually happens overnight, and almost never out of the blue like this,” replied the pink filly. She promptly added, “D-don’t worry, it usually goes away within a week.”

Okay, this was definitely weird. “You remember some things but not others? How does that work? How do you even know it’s amnesia, then? Wait, nevermind, I didn’t think that through.” This wasn’t making much sense. Maybe I just wasn’t getting things.

She took some time to gather her words, seemingly relaxing in the process. “Well… there’s lots of things I remember. My time in the stable as well as some episodes in the wasteland. I’ve tried making sense of it, but it’s just too weird… As for the rest of my knowledge…” She waved her PipBuck. “I keep a journal here. Whenever I lose my memory, I just read up on what happened.” Looking at the device, she manipulated it and made its screen light up. The way she focused on what was written almost made it seem like an excuse to escape from the conversation, though I knew better.

After a few long moments, I tried to get her attention again. “What does it say?” I inquired.

“Mostly just following your tracks here, for the past fifteen days at least. That’s how far back I got.”

“Does, uh, this happen often? And does it say how long you’ve been coughing like that?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I-it used to happen more frequently, but nowadays it’s only every few months. Last time was six weeks ago, and I wasn’t sick then. I’ll tell you more when I’ve caught up, okay?” She sounded so incredibly unsure, hesitation obvious in her voice, that it pained me. Poor thing.

She hadn’t read that far back, which meant… “So wait, you recall the last time you lost your memory?”

She nodded. “For some reason, the parts I remember the clearest are always when I forget everything else.” She shut off the backlight on her PipBuck, then dug at the ground a little before saying, “I’m pretty tired, can we go sleep please? Why are we even outside? It’s cold here,” Iron Sonata complained. Uh, Iron Sights. That’s gonna take some getting used to.

“I’ll be right back,” I told her.

I went back inside and explained the situation to Banter and Petal. Both were wary, but when we eventually invited her in, they seemed to slightly soften up when they realised just how innocent and naïve the filly now was. Frankly, it was beyond me as well.

Since Banter and Petal had come to their own conclusions regarding Iron Sights and how we should treat her, they agreed we should go back to sleep while Banter continued his shift. Iron unpacked her bedroll in a corner of the shack’s main room, away from everypony else.

As we all lay down—except for Banter, of course—I found myself unable to sleep. My mind was racing with so many questions that I desperately wanted to ask her, but the filly was already sound asleep. Even if she wasn’t, she would probably just tell me what she had written in her journal—maybe even just read off of it. Besides, it made more sense if she told all of us, rather than just me. I was still surprised how few new scars she had. Though maybe I’d just missed them because of the bad lighting. I would really have to take a closer look at her tomorrow, in the daylight.

And how had she recovered from her inner ear injury? Did she still have those bouts of vertigo? Did she have some stories about killing raiders by the dozen? Where had she been? Had she seen Canterlot?

As my thoughts continued to pile up I lay there for Luna only knew how long before I finally drifted off to sleep.

I was sharply awoken from my dream by Petal nudging my shoulder. I was so incredibly tired I momentarily forgot where I was or why she was so insistent. I just wanted to go back to my nice bucket of locks… No, I needed to get up.

It felt like I’d just fallen asleep, only to get woken up immediately afterwards. I knew it wasn’t the case, since I’d slept through Petal’s entire watch, but it felt like almost no sleep. Still, if I didn’t get up, Petal would get even less sleep than me. I attempted to shake myself awake, but found that it only made me dizzy.

As she lay down in her sleeping bag, I took her seat next to the window and watched over the road for the next three hours. The dawn was rapidly approaching. Soon enough, the night would give way to dawn, and I would have to wake everypony up.

I wasn’t looking forward to walking an entire day while this tired. In the distance, far away from the road, I spotted a few rather large shapes, presumably radscorpions—or maybe they were small, and I’d overestimated the space between us. Neither was a fun option to think about. Eventually, they disappeared behind some shrubbery, and I was left alone with my thoughts. Without anything to focus on, I grew bored and my eyelids heavy.

I needed something to keep me occupied. Just a few hours ago I couldn’t fall asleep because my mind was racing, now I was having the opposite problem. I turned my gaze towards Iron, who was lying on her own bedroll. I couldn’t help but notice how she slept. Curled up, she was hugging her blanket, covering only her torso and front legs—hadn’t she complained about being cold?

My eyes were drawn to the many scars on her legs and barrel. Very few of them I remembered from all that time ago, but most I didn’t. There were even some I was certain she didn’t have before. All of them were bullet wounds or cuts, though none looked as severe as those awful burn scars on her legs. Well, one scar that did stand out looked like the flesh had been torn rather than cut or pierced, right above the chemical burn from that frog she’d told me about. Then again, I suppose those gunshot scars don’t look impressive compared to how dangerous the wounds that caused them must have been.

Something else that I could not help noticing was her other hindleg. It wasn’t scarred, but it still looked very wrong. The entirety of the fur near her hoof had fallen out, exposing grey skin. The sight was far from pleasant, and I swiftly averted my gaze.

My eyes wandered up her leg, landing on her rump and cutie mark, though something seemed off. Before I could grasp what, I was hit with the realisation that I was staring at somepony’s plot. I immediately looked away and back through the window. I was so lucky that nopony had seen that. Wait, maybe not… I turned to look at Banter and Petal on the other side of the room. Luckily for me, both were facing away, and I would have heard them moving. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then again, Petal would have understood—she’d been the one to tell me it was perfectly normal for somepony my age to start thinking about such things. It wasn’t weird… right? It still felt rude, though…

But something had struck me as odd. I desperately wanted to find out what it was, but that would imply staring at her hindquarters some more. Would that really be such a bad thing? Yes! It would be disrespectful. But if she didn’t find out…? No! Stop that.

Stupid thoughts… Why did growing up have to come with that? I didn’t want any of this! I groaned, louder than I’d meant to, causing the young mare to stir. She rolled to lie onto her stomach, and I immediately noticed what was wrong. Her cutie mark was a triplet of musical notes surrounded by red butterflies. Not a rifle.

Why would she lie about her cutie mark? It made no sense. Maybe she wanted to reassure us that she was capable? That seemed likely, and it would also explain why she’d been willing to help me practice. This whole situation only made me want to talk to her about music more. She shivered and hid beneath the blanket. I’d also obviously have to call her lie, but I didn’t particularly look forward to that conversation.

I spent the next more or less hour daydreaming about being taught to sing and later performing at Tenpony tower, awing everypony. I would wear a pretty dress, and I’d record new music for DJ-Pon3! I knew all that was very unlikely to happen—at least I told myself that to keep my hopes contained—but I still liked thinking about it.

Eventually, it was bright enough outside that Banter got up on his own, then told me we should awaken the others. I thought it was still a bit early, but he insisted. Within the hour, we had eaten breakfast and were about to depart. Even Iron, who’d spent a good five minutes putting on her barding right after waking up, was ready to go. I managed to hold back a snicker at how clumsily she struggled with each piece.

Petal was concerned for Iron’s health, given that the latter had been coughing since waking up. The filly eventually dug up a box of old cold medicine and swallowed one of the pills. None of us insisted further, but I could tell I wasn’t the only one worried. However, it wasn’t like there was much we could do about it anyway.

“So, Iron,” Banter started, “the way we usually travel is by having one of us—usually Petal or I—walk ahead of the group and scout for potential dangers, since it’s much easier to run away when you’re not dragging a cart.” He shrugged. “Around here it’s mostly smaller radscorpions though, and they’re fairly predictable. I was thinking of doing teams of two.”

“Oh, can I stay with Lockpick?” immediately replied the filly.

“Well, I was planning on having you accompany me while I pull the cart. Normally I would have sent you ahead, since you’re probably our best fighter, but given your current condition, I'm not sure if that still applies.”

“I can still defend myself, though…” she protested, “just… less well than usually,” she added defensively.

“Wouldn’t it be a good idea to send our two better fighters in front?” I interjected. “It’s not like we’ll be completely defenseless back here, and you two could kill radscorpions before they even became an issue to us.” In theory, there was the chance that if they shot the creatures, it would attract more that would then bother us, but I doubted it was really an issue.

“And who would drag the cart? Neither of you is very strong, and you’d get exhausted very quickly. Listen, I thought this through already, this is the smartest way we can go about it.”

“If we get tired, we can always switch around,” I argued.

“And I can just use my magic,” enthusiastically chimed Iron. Right, she does have abnormally strong telekinesis… But still…

Looking her in the eye, I raised an eyebrow. “Can you concentrate for such long durations of time? I know I could drag it with my own magic, but all this conscious mental effort will eventually tire me out.” I didn’t want to kill her enthusiasm, but her proposition didn’t make much sense. Unless… “Unless your telekinesis is strong enough that it’s really no big deal?”

“I’m pretty sure it is. The cart looks rather light, and I know my magic could handle carrying it for a short while.” There was some of the smugness I knew!

“Prove it,” I challenged her, climbing on top of our small wagon, making sure not to step on any food or anything else fragile. I knew I might be betting on a sinking ship, but I did want to see if she was able to do this. Making it harder on her would only make her win more satisfying.

The next moment, my suspicions were confirmed as the entire cart glowed red and lifted off the ground fast enough to make me dizzy. I lay down, holding onto the wagon for dear life. It turned out neither my brain nor my stomach enjoyed being airborne!

“Put me down!” I shouted, panicked. I wasn’t expecting her to pick me up like a pebble. As the cart landed, I jumped to the ground, resisting the urge to kiss it. When I looked at her face, her small smile had grown into a giant grin.

I was about to compliment her strength when Banter spoke up, “You two really wanna stick together, huh?” He gave us a smile. Maybe he’d eventually warm up to her?

“Yeah, we didn’t really have time to properly catch up yesterday,” I told him.

He nodded and gave me a look that said, “Just be careful.” I suppose it takes more than that to convince him she’s not a threat. I rolled my eyes. Still, I was under the impression he was slightly less paranoid around amnesiac Iron Sights.

As he and Petal walked away, Iron told me, “They don’t trust me, huh?” Yesterday, this fact hadn’t hurt her. Now, I could hear sadness in her voice, as if forgetting about it had made it more painful for her.

“Well, Petal doesn’t trust easily to begin with, but she wants to give you the benefit of the doubt. Banter, on the other hoof… He usually has a very good feeling for who’s shady and who isn’t. He’s been wrong before, but that’s the exception rather than the rule,” I explained, then promptly added, “Of course, I think he’s wrong in this case as well.”

She tilted her head. “So, he’s treating me like a bad pony on a gut feeling?” She didn’t even attempt to hide how hurt she sounded.

“Yeah.”

“But wait, if they’re both wary of me, why… aren’t you?”

“Duh, because you’re my friend.” I made an effort to sound as lighthearted as possible. I couldn’t bear her sadness.

“Were… were we close? There isn’t much in my journal about you,” she admitted.

“Not particularly. We only talked every few days for a month or two, but you were my closest friend my age, and you did inspire me to grow as a pony.”

“I did?”

“Mhm! We talked about this yesterday.” I paused for a moment. “Hmm… It’s a bit odd to talk to someone with amnesia. I guess you don’t know what’s causing it?”

She shook her head. “No idea. I wish I knew, since I’m defenseless when I forget how to handle a firearm. When I read my journals, I have a hard time believing all the things I do when… when I’m myself. I was apparently in a mercenary gang!”

“For real? That’s… not entirely surprising, but I wanna hear the full story. Why did you leave? If you know, that is.”

She nodded. “My journal is very comprehensive. I know everything that’s happened to me over the past two years. Well, I only know what’s written, but I doubt I would have any reason to leave out important details.” That is such a mindfuck, I thought. “Anyway, apparently I was stationed with a buck, and we got overrun. I was kicked out for incompetence.” Her? Incompetent? I… had a hard time believing it.

“That’s odd; you’ve always struck me as somepony extremely capable. It’s hard to imagine they’d kick you out over a single mistake like that, but it’s even harder to think you’d consistently mess up.”

She frowned, sighed, and replied, “That’s what I struggle with as well. What I read in there often doesn’t sound like me. I know memories make up a good chunk of who somepony is, but… some of the things I did? I feel guilty just reading about them.”

Raising an eyebrow, I looked her in the eyes, “Such as?”

“Well…” she hesitated, “it says I killed somepony for their bounty. He was a bad pony, and I needed the caps, but I have a hard time justifying murder…”

Now that was a shock. She was the last pony I ever expected feeling remorseful over the wasteland’s necessary atrocities. I didn’t know what to reply, so I stayed quiet. Seconds of silence turned into minutes, and eventually the walkie-talkie on the cart broke it.

“You two should probably depart about now,” Banter told us over the radio.

Grabbing the walkie-talkie on the cart and pressing the main button, I answered. “Okay, will do.” Then, turning to Iron, “I’ll go first. We’ll swap when I get tired.”

After attaching the cart’s harnesses to myself and starting to walk, I almost regretted my decision. It wasn’t impossible, but I could tell I would be very sore at the end of the day. Coupled with how dry my eyes were due to how terribly I’d slept, I knew the next few hours would be unpleasant.

As we continued onwards, the silence stretched, until I desperately tried to make conversation. “Hey, Iron?” I didn’t wait for her response before I continued, “This might seem like an odd thing to ask, but if we were to have an important conversation right now, would you remember it after you get your memories back?” Assuming she did get them back, which was the most likely case anyway.

“Yeah, I remember everything that happens to me in this state. At least I think I do. Why do you ask?”

“There’s something I wanted to tell you, since you probably overheard a conversation yesterday, and it would make sense to give you the details; I feel like you deserve to know,” I admitted.

She perked up and smiled at me. “I’m all ears, then.”

Right as I was about to start talking, a thought hit me. This will tank the mood. “It’s actually probably not the best moment to talk about it, in hindsight.”

“Why not?”

“It would just make us sad for no good reason. It’s really not that important.” Damn it, just why did I have to open my mouth?

“Well, if you wanted to talk about it, then it can’t be that unimportant?” After a few seconds of silence, she hurriedly added, “I-it’s alright if you don’t want to, though. I don’t want to pressure you.”

I sighed. I’d clearly piqued her curiosity, and now it had become a good opportunity to talk about it. Even back then, I kept coming up with excuses not to tell her, every time we had a conversation. I coulda told her half a dozen times, but I never did.

“I…” I hesitated, “I don’t know where to start.” I thought for a few moments. “Screw it, I’ll start wherever my thoughts are.” I sighed, bracing myself for what I was about to admit. “I killed my mom. She kept screaming at me. About how I was the reason her life had gone to shit. About how I was just a useless parasite. About how she should leave me behind to fend for myself.” I stared at the ground while walking forward, unable to meet Iron Sights’s gaze.

While I’d been perfectly calm mere moments ago, now I could feel myself shake. “A-and that wasn’t the worst of it. No, that was when she found alcohol. She… she was so volatile when she drank. One bad comment or one bad noise, or hell, even being in the wrong place in her field of view would get me the brunt of a shower of insults.” I sniffed, trying my hardest to keep the tears in. “It was when she started hitting me that I finally learned to stay away from her when she was in that state.”

I gulped. Sometime during my speech, tears had started flowing down my cheeks. I hated talking about this, but now I had to at least finish it. “T-that worked for a while, but e-ev-even—” My voice kept breaking as it was interrupted by sobs. A few moments later, I was able to regain my composure enough to say, “Sometimes, she would get mad at me even though I wa-wasn’t anywhere around. I’d hide, and occasionally she wouldn’t find me. M-most of the time she did and beat me so hard I w-wondered how I was still alive. I wished I wasn't. I wished she’d just finish me off.”

Now that I was sobbing again, I needed to take a moment to take a few deep breaths, hiccuping uncontrollably. I stopped pulling the cart as I kept crying. Iron lifted her leg, and I flinched, before immediately realising she only wanted to pat my back. I knew she wouldn’t ever hurt me, and was ashamed of this reflexive reaction. Finally, I continued. “One day I just… snapped. She hit me so hard I fell to the ground and almost lost consciousness.” I suppressed another sob. “Before she could strike me again I grabbed her g-gun, closed my eyes, and fired.”

I couldn’t stop crying and bawling, and my front legs gave out under me. Why did I fool myself into believing I could tell anypony about this without breaking down?

I thought I’d be fine by avoiding those topics. I thought I’d eventually forget about it and how much it hurt. I thought I’d finally gotten over it all. I thought I could become as strong as Iron. I thought I was fine. In reality, I just became good at hiding from the past and pretending it didn’t happen.

Fuck, how was she so damn strong? She’d remained perfectly stoic when she told us about her father. Maybe she’s just better at pretending the past doesn’t exist?

She kneeled down next to me, hugging me tight. We sat like that for a few minutes; me sobbing uncontrollably and her comforting me to the best of her effort. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt,” she said. What? Didn’t she…?

“But—” I was about to retort, when the obvious crossed my mind. She didn’t remember. It was so bittersweet. I should be happy that she didn’t have to deal with that for now. Instead, I was angry at her for not being able to understand. She was supposed to be the one pony who’d get it! I wanted to scream.

Before long, I got up; we had to keep going. I needed to calm down. She couldn’t be blamed for this. I tripped after less than five steps.

With my face on the dry dirt road, I started crying again. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, “I’m so weak, I shouldn’t—”

I felt her telekinesis undo the harness around my barrel, then lift me onto the cart. I silently wept as she pulled me forward with her magic. I wanted to protest, but didn’t find the strength in me to do so. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to Iron Sights singing an old Songbird Serenade song. Her voice wasn’t the most beautiful I’d ever heard, but it was far from grating. More importantly, she was perfectly on-key. As I looked at her, I noticed she was listening to her PipBuck’s radio through its ear bloom. Before long, she was interrupted by a coughing fit, then fell quiet.

Carefully, I jumped off the moving cart. Having noticed, Iron turned around, blushing slightly. “P-please don’t tell me you heard any of that?”

I gave her my best ‘really?’ look, then smiled at her. “Don’t worry, your singing isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“Oh… Thanks!” she replied. Despite her bashfulness just now, she seemed to be in a rather bright mood. “Have you ever seen a rainbow? Books and songs always make them sound so pretty,” she asked.

“I haven’t, they’re pretty rare in the wasteland, as you know.”

“Well, I hope to see one some day, then!” she chirped optimistically.

I decided to humour her. “I mean, it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it? Eventually you’ll be at the right place at the right time.”

“Exactly! That’s what I was thinking,” she agreed cheerfully. It was odd, now it felt like I was the mature one.

Before it was too late and bringing it up would be awkward, I decided to speak up about what happened earlier today. “So, uh… I wanted to apologise for breaking down like that. I’m… still not over it, clearly. I thought I was, and that I’d be able to talk about it like a normal pony. Clearly not. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Well, it’s not a big deal. You needed to talk about it and let it out, and I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me something so big.” I had to hold back my tears. How was she so nice? “Besides, that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction when remembering something this awful.” Suddenly, she sounded mature again.

Of course, the fact that she didn’t remember and thus couldn’t truly understand still stung, but her kindness made me so happy. As if on cue, she added, “Did you still want to practice singing? I m-mean it’s okay if not, it’s just that it’s what I wrote down in my journal, and like, you said I’m pretty good… so maybe I could help you out? O-of course I can just listen quietly if you’d prefer that.”

“Of course! I’d love that. You don’t have to… critique me if you don’t know how, but I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to practice. I dunno if I told you this, but I’m embarrassed to try in front of Petal and Banter… I don’t think they would judge me, but I still don’t like it…”

She nodded, and I turned on the gem-powered radio we had on our cart. When a song to which I knew the lyrics came on, and I started singing along, I felt silly at first. I wanted to stop, but her encouraging nods and gaze kept me going. My voice was shaky, and I had trouble catching my breath while walking. Eventually, she suggested I climb back onto the cart. I accepted her offer, and, for a few hours, we would listen to the radio and sing along the songs we knew by heart. Given her amnesia, it would have made sense she would remember less lyrics than me, but it turned out to be the opposite.

From time to time, we’d get interrupted by Banter or Petal telling us about a group of radscorpions in the distance we should be mindful of, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Eventually, we grouped up, had dinner, and went to sleep in our tents—this time, we hadn’t been able to find any old buildings to sleep in.

Nothing of note happened that night, and soon enough we found ourselves on the road again.

The walkie-talkie crackled, and Banter’s voice came through, breaking our comfortable silence. “There’s a few large radscorpions to the right of the road. They’re closer than any other group we passed by. They didn’t bother us, but they might see the cart as prey. Be careful and be ready to run.”

I lifted the radio in my light blue magic, pressing the button on its side. “Gotcha. Over.” Turning to Iron, who was sitting on the cart, I told her, “Would you mind getting off the cart? You heard him, we might need to sprint a bit.”

She complied, hopping off and lifting her saddlebags off it as well. I wondered how heavy those bags were—half her weight? Probably less, but they seemed awfully heavy compared to her. Then again, she wasn’t particularly heavy herself, though much more than she’d previously been.

“By the way,” I told her, “You mentioned a change in diet yesterday, what exactly was it?”

“I dunno. My journal mentions it, but doesn’t go into details. I’ve been wondering about that as well.”

“Well, have you checked your saddlebags?” I offered.

“Not this time, no,” she admitted, lifting her leg to look at her PipBuck, which had a full list of everything she was carrying around. However, focusing on a screen while hobbling on three legs didn’t strike me as a particularly bright idea.

Sure enough, she tripped on a rock after a few moments, stumbling. She managed to regain her balance before faceplanting, but I still regretted not voicing my concerns earlier. A few things dropped out of her bag. Bottled water, canned food, one of those chromed pistols some ponies used.

Helping her pick things up as to lose as little time as possible, I told her, “Maybe you should do that next time we stop.” She nodded in response, blushing slightly. I turned my gaze back to the road.

In the distance to my right, I noticed a small blip on the horizon. Possibly the scorpions Banter had mentioned. The sooner we moved past them, the better.

Walking hurriedly, we didn’t have much breath to talk. Occasionally, we would slow down as Iron had a coughing fit. After many more minutes, the group of scorpions finally properly came into view. At first, they didn’t seem to really pay us much mind.

Though that changed all too quickly. Luckily for us, they weren’t the fastest critters in the wasteland, so a brisk pace would allow us to outrun them. Only problem was that I didn’t know if I had the strength to run while dragging a full cart. If push came to shove, I could always detach myself and sprint away. That, however, brought up another problem—I had no idea how fast Iron could run, especially given her current condition.

Meanwhile, the arthropods were only drawing closer. Now in a canter, I started getting winded, while my companion kept up seemingly without effort. I guess I should look at my own issues first, huh?

“Gimme that,” she told me, struggling to take the harness off me. Seemed like she’d had the same thought. Wait, I should be the one pulling it with my telekinesis! She already pulled it earlier, I mentally protested. Now’s definitely not the time to argue about that. She has stronger magic anyway. I momentarily stopped, primarily to ease the task, but also admittedly to catch my breath. Before my lungs could fully recover, we started running again.

A bit later, I glanced over at Iron. Her horn was surrounded with an aura of the same colour as her majestic red eyes. By how brightly it glowed, it had to be a major effort to pull the vehicle at such a speed. Good thing I didn’t try to do it, then. I probably don’t have the strength needed.

Now that we were running at full gallop, I could hear her occasionally coughing and her breathing getting heavier, while I wasn’t having too much trouble. The cart, on the other hoof, was loudly rumbling, rolling on the uneven path. In an attempt to run faster, she lifted the entire thing. What I’d interpreted as effortless yesterday day suddenly struck me with how gargantuan a task it actually was. Her horn occasionally sparked, blazing brightly enough to hurt looking at. Can I do that too? was the first thought to cross my mind.

I had to push my amazement and wonders aside for now. Focus on galloping. We’d soon outrun them. Not much longer until we would be far enough away that they’d leave us alone. Once we were past them, they would give up chasing us.

Iron, however, was panting much too hard. Suddenly, her concentration was broken by a stronger coughing fit. Fortunately, she managed to catch the cart before it smashed into the ground. Giving up this approach, she shifted her aura back onto the harness, only to be interrupted by another coughing fit, more intense than any I’d heard so far. She stopped dead in her tracks, several metres behind me. It’s okay, she’ll recover. I hope.

I focused on the harness now lying on the ground. Channeling more and more magic into the spell, I made the vehicle speed up. Soon enough, I was pouring my all into it. But… that wasn’t my all. I could push further, I’d just never considered it.

I quickly realised that the more I concentrated on my horn, the more I slowed down. It was simply too hard to focus on two things at once. I was suddenly impressed by her, but for different reasons.

Uh oh, I realised she still hadn’t caught up. Looking back, I noticed she had slowed down to a trot, occasionally interrupted by coughing. Oh no. She was going to get swarmed very soon, if she didn’t start running!

I started galloping towards her. I didn’t have a plan—I’d be unable to carry her or help her run—but I needed to do something. Oh! If I were to grab her pistol, and she’d use her rifle, maybe we could fight them off!

I finally reached her as the scorpions were less than ten metres away. Iron tripped and fell right onto her face. From here, I opened her right saddlebag, pulling out the pistol I’d seen earlier. Undoing the safety, I turned towards the giant arthropods.

Sweet Celestia, were those huge. One of them in particular was over twice as wide as the second largest. I aimed the gun’s barrel forward and repeatedly pulled the trigger. “Help me!” I shouted at Iron, who hadn’t even unharnessed her rifle yet. Her eyes were closed—Dear Princess Celestia, please tell me she’s not unconscious.

I kept shooting at the closest one, until it finally stopped moving. Or rather, until I noticed it stopped moving, after having used up all my ammo. I turned towards my companion, who had just finished standing up.

When she opened her eyes, she was entirely calm and collected; her gaze was back to cold and calculating. She had her memories back! At least that was the best interpretation for what was happening.

She took one deep breath. In the next second, there was a red flash and a metallic apple materialised between the two smaller scorpions. Simultaneously, her carbine floated up next to her, and she shoved me to the ground. Then, the world exploded.

No, that wasn’t right. It had just been the automatic’s angry roar. Before I could figure out if she’d hit her target, my vision was filled with red as we were teleported away. A few moments afterwards, the grenade went off, tearing apart both radscorpions.

She holstered her carbine again, then broke into another coughing fit. It took me a few moments to realise what had just happened. “Iron! That. Was. Awesome!” Despite how close we’d come to dying, I couldn't help but be impressed by how quickly she'd dealt with them. “I… take it you’re back to normal?”

She looked… different. I hadn’t noticed it last night in the darkness, or just before in the hectic shootout, but now it felt really obvious, like I could see it at first glance. Was it really all just attitude? It sent a chill down my spine, which I tried my best to hide.

She nodded, pain marking her expression, overriding even the smugness I’d come to expect after complimenting her. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I really wasn’t expecting my amnesia to act up out of nowhere. Usually it only happens after a bad hangover, or if I sleep badly.” She sighed, then surprised the ponyfeathers out of me by hugging me, squeezing me tight.

I let the moment last, hugging back. Eventually, I broke free of the embrace. “What gives? Not that I don’t appreciate it, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“It’s to make up for yesterday. I… had no idea you went through the same thing as me.” Oh, right.

Our conversation was abruptly interrupted as Banter’s voice crackled, “Are you two okay? We heard gunshots, now everything’s suddenly quiet.”

Iron was the one who replied to him, “Yeah, I took care of that group of radscorpions.”

“Roger that.”

I picked up the harness in my magic and started pulling the cart. Next to me, Iron took out something from her right saddlebag, then took a bite out of it. Turning my head to look at her, I noticed that it was jerky. “Oh, so that’s what you meant by change of diet? I have to admit, I’m intrigued. I never understood how ponies can eat meat. When I tried it, I just ended up sick for a day. Can’t say I really disliked the taste, though.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, kept chewing and eventually swallowed. “Your body needs a while to get used to it, then you can digest it just fine. The omnivore diet isn’t for everyone, but it sure is convenient for me,” she told me. “Jerky in particular is a bit odd. It’s so salty you can barely taste the meat, and takes forever to chew through. But it feeds you.”

“Oh, and here I was considering asking you for a bite,” I admitted.

“Yeah, this stuff really isn’t the best if you aren’t used to it. Would love to share a good steak with you, though.”

As she mentioned that, a thought hit me, “How come you didn’t write it down in your journal? It seems like an odd thing to leave out.”

“Frankly… I’m scared of my reaction when I’d find out. Back in the stable it was a huge taboo, and I’m worried this more naïve version of me wouldn’t take it well…”

Digging in her saddlebags again, she pulled out a box of Buck. I watched in shock as she snapped a tablet of the drug in two and swallowed one of halves, chasing it with some water.

“Are… you sure you should be taking that?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m taking it for its intended purpose, right? I’m sick and my body needs the extra kick. I wouldn’t be touching this garbage otherwise.”

I felt silly, now. Sheepishly, I muttered. “Oh. Well, that makes sense, I guess. Sorry.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. At least it came from a good place.” She took another bite of jerky and chewed for a good minute. “You know, your magic’s pretty strong. I was always told that short horns led to weak magic, but that’s not the case for you.”

“Hey, my horn isn’t that short!” I protested, knowing full well that it was. I got mistaken for an earth pony enough to be perfectly aware of it. “Well, maybe it is. But it’s never been an issue for me. If anything, it’s an advantage to have ponies underestimate me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that anyway. Earth ponies usually underestimate us unicorns regardless, especially when dealing with younger ones. Even when they keep telekinesis in mind, they have a weird tendency to assume we don’t know any other spells. I can think of three separate occasions where I should have been screwed, but managed to survive thanks to magic.”

“Oh, what spells do you know?” I wanted to ask about the situations she’d escaped from, but I had a feeling that would lead to a heavier conversation than I wanted to have right now.

“Well, I have a whole toolbox of them; it’s the upside to being magically gifted.” As if there was a downside. “But the ones that have helped me escape the most situations are definitely telekinesis, teleportation, and something I’ve been calling a telekinetic cut. The latter is mostly useful to cut ropes, as it’s not strong enough to kill somepony with it. Still, very handy.”

“You gotta teach me that,” I told her. That sounded like a simple spell even I could learn.

“I mean, I could try, though you need some pretty accurate and strong telekinesis. Given your skill with locks, I doubt the former would pose much of an issue… I’m worried about the latter, but we can definitely try.”

As we walked onwards, our conversation wandered from topic to topic, some more serious than others, but never too grim.

“I think I’m done monologuing for now, my throat is starting to kill me,” admitted Iron, having just told us some of what had happened to her, from Candy’s death to Cascade’s departure. I’d raised an eyebrow when she mentioned an alicorn. After all, both princesses were dead, were they not? Apparently, nopony else really believed her either, to the point that she’d started telling people a tall unicorn had murdered her friend.

Another thing that had stirred emotion in me was right at the end, when Cascade had abandoned Iron. “I still can’t believe Cascade would treat you like that after you saved her life,” I commented. “Just because you had to kill in self-defence…”

She shook her head. “No, putting it like that would be very unfair to her.” She sighed. “It’s just… Well, you’ve seen me fight. I tend to be quite…”

“Ruthless?” I offered.

“Yeah. Ruthless. Or maybe brutal? Anyway, she saw me kill our attackers and couldn’t bear it. It was a tough decision for her, I think, but I really can’t blame her.” Well, I can. “Although I’ll admit I’m worried she might be spreading lies about why I killed those two ponies.”

“Still… I think it’s dumb. She was so much safer with you, why would she throw that away?” If she was killed by raiders, it would be her fault. “I feel like you should be angrier at her,” I complained.

She shrugged. “It happened over a year and a half ago. If I was angry back then, now I truly couldn’t care anymore.” She took a sip of tea, and our campfire crackled in the silent night while we waited for her to continue, “And like I mentioned, she and I weren’t really getting along anyway. She didn’t like my more… pragmatic morals.”

Petal sighed. “Yeah, there’s ponies like that out here, who just don’t seem to get that you do what you gotta do.” She shrugged. “I mean, I talk like I got life figured out, but for all I know, maybe they’re in the right.”

I raised an eyebrow. “How? They’re just throwing their life away. I’d kill a pony if my life depended on it.”

The mare shrugged again. “That’s how I think, too. But a part of me can’t help but wonder… what if sticking to your guts and living by your values is ultimately the right thing? Maybe it’s better for your soul. I dunno. Come to think of it, there’s definitely certain things I would never do. I’d probably even choose death over some of those. Pretty sure I’d rather let myself die of starvation than eat a pony.”

“I gave up on trying to understand morality a long time ago,” commented Iron. “I just… do what’s needed to survive. I don’t know if any of what I do is right or wrong, I just do it because it needs to be done.” I felt happy that my friend shared my belief on the matter. She had implied it in her story, but it was reassuring to hear her say it out loud.

Petal nodded understandingly, while Banter had a look of disgust on his face. I didn’t understand why, because he normally would have been inclined to agree. He was clearly still holding onto his earlier “hunch”. He hadn’t been so harsh earlier, so why had his attitude regressed now?

“Banter, can I speak with you for a second?” I immediately regretted my wording. The commanding tone made me sound much angrier than I’d intended for.

He sighed, stood up, and started walking away from the campfire. Once we were out of earshot, he said, “No, I will not trust her simply because she’s nice to you.”

“That wasn’t even what I wanted to say! Why are you so Celestia-damn paranoid? I understand you get your hunches for ponies, but have you considered that, maybe, your sense isn’t always perfectly accurate? Maybe it’s thrown off by a pony younger than you acting more mature than you?” Damn it, why’d I have to say that?

“She’s not more mature than me.” He huffed indignantly. “And that’s certainly not why I’m wary of her.”

“Then why? Give me a good reason why you hate her.”

“Every time she speaks, my hair stands on end. It’s like every other word coming out of her mouth is a lie. I never felt great around already when she was younger, but now it’s like my entire body is screaming not to trust her. Especially now that she’s admitted that she doesn’t have moral objections to slavery.”

“I’m not asking you to trust her with your life, Banter. I just want you to be nicer when talking to her,” I pleaded.

“I don’t want to be nice to her. I don’t want her travelling with us, and I certainly don’t want to pretend I’m her friend. We don’t need her with us, and I doubt she needs us, not after everything she’s told us,” he rebutted.

I scowled, hesitating to reply. After a few short moments, I snapped. “No, Banter. You don’t need her. You already have somepony who understands you. Fuck, you even manage to have complete strangers see things your way. I don’t.” I stomped my hoof to drive home my point. “Banter, I’ve never had a friend my age, and certainly never met anypony who went through the same shit as I did. I don’t want you driving her away just because of your stupid stubborn hunch!” His gut feeling was usually correct, but this was the exception!

For a moment I thought he would blow up at me. Instead, he sighed, seemingly calming down. “Fine. I won’t be overtly hostile towards her. Don’t expect me to play best friends with her, though, or to trust her with any important decisions.”

I smiled. “Thank you.” That was better than nothing.

After we went back to the campfire, Banter turned to Iron. “So, why is it that you decided to find us? You said you were lonely, but I feel like there’s more to that.”

She nodded. “Yeah, there is. I mean, if I want mindless company, I can just go to some bar, get hammered, and talk to strangers for a few hours.” The thought of her drinking sent a chill down my spine. “The truth is, I’m looking for a meaningful bond; a purpose in life, if you will. When I gave up on avenging Candy, I—”

I interrupted her, “Wait, why’d you give up on revenge?”

She looked at the ground. “Yeah… I eventually realised it wouldn’t bring me anything, even if I did manage to kill a murderous alicorn.” Banter shuddered. I wanted to hold it against him, but it seemed like it had been involuntary. Was he cold? “Back when I dropped my plans, I didn’t even have the ability. Nowadays, I think I could take her on, but… what afterwards? I won’t be happy all of a sudden, and it won’t fill the chasm in my heart.”

Banter shuddered again, and all gazes turned to him. “Sorry, but I think I’ll go to bed for now. Tired and freezing is not a great combination, and it just hit me how badly I need to sleep. Wake me up for the last shift.” With those words, he disappeared into the tent, and we all wished him a good night.

“After that, I tried a few things. I joined a different group of mercenaries, but I never quite felt like I fit in with the rest of them, nor like it really filled my lack of purpose. There was one buck I got along with, but that was it. Eventually got kicked out for a mistake I made, and that’s when I decided to try a group of ponies I actually care about.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Aww, I’m glad to hear that.” After a brief pause to let my words sink in, I asked, “How did you find us?”

“Went to the last place I’d seen you at, New Detrot, and asked around.” Suddenly, her eyes went wide, and a look of shame, shock, and regret installed itself on her face. Just as quickly, she brushed it off and continued, “Then, I made my way over to Manehattan and did the same. Then, Las Pegasus. Had a couple of really bad raider encounters getting there. Finally, I made it to Somnambula; I underestimated how harsh that trip was and came uncomfortably close to dying.”

“Yeah, the San Palomino desert can be a pain to cross,” Petal commented absent-mindedly. “Did you take a specific route?”

Iron shook her head. “Nah, I just headed straight through once the road I was on ended. I figured it wouldn’t be too hard, since I wasn’t that far away anymore. Turns out I severely misjudged how tedious it is to walk on sand.”

“Yeaaaah,” Petal agreed, “walking gets easier when it’s wet, but the rain in that region is bad news. Probably never a good idea to walk while it’s raining.”

“I was warned about that, too. Ended up soaked, and I’m pretty certain I might grow another limb,” she chuckled. “I should have prepared better, in all honesty. I feel silly for thinking it would be an easy trip.”

“Banter’s parents knew a good route that we ended up taking, but I think the locals know a better one. If you’re ever around there alone, just find the nearest settlement. I’m sure they’ll help you in exchange for a few caps.”

“Speaking of… I take it we’re heading to Manehattan?” asked Iron. I nodded. “Do we have a route?”

“Yeah,” I replied, “we’re first heading to Dodge Junction.”

She furrowed her brow. “I’d rather avoid Dodge Junction if we can, but I guess we should wait for Banter before discussing this more.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Avoid Dodge Junction? Why?”

“Last time I was there, it had a pretty bad bandit problem. It’s… not a great idea to go there, and I would much prefer it if we could go by the Appleloosas instead.” Wasn’t that slaver territory? How was that any better? Suddenly, even I had a bout of suspicion. No, I can’t think like that. Obviously, Banter just got into my head.

Regardless, we couldn’t make a decision without him. “I see… Yeah, I think it’s best to wait until tomorrow morning.” I yawned, and so did Iron. Turning to Petal, I asked, “Do you want the first shift, or should I take it?” Of course, we could all sleep an hour longer if we let Iron take a shift, but that was still off the table. With that Appleloosa comment, I’m almost glad we don’t trust her yet. I sighed. Great, I am getting as paranoid as Banter now.

“I’ll let you have it, though if you’re tired and wanna sleep now, I can totes let you,” she replied.

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m getting tired; didn’t sleep particularly well last night or the one before, and I was hoping to catch up a little,” I admitted.

“Yeah, same for me,” commented Iron, standing up. She’d slept more than me, but did pull the cart much longer than I did. Not to mention that I’d napped on said cart while she dragged it.

As we headed to our tent, we said our goodnights and lay down in our respective bedrolls, and I realised I was effectively sharing a bed with somepony. My mind filled with what-ifs. Was she thinking the same? As she gave a soft snore, I had my reply.

Stupid teenager brain… I’d been warned, but I hadn’t expected it to be this annoying.

Soon enough, I drifted to sleep as well.

Stepping back towards the tent, I yawned. If all went well, I could catch up on sleep in less than a week, when we would finally reach Macintown and wouldn’t have to deal with those stupid shifts anymore for a few days.

I opened the flap with my telekinesis, stepping inside, careful to not wake up the sleeping filly inside. I lay down, but didn’t fall asleep immediately.

After a few minutes, Iron started tossing and turning. When after a few seconds she didn’t stop, I opened my eyes and took a look at her. On her face was a mixture of regret, guilt, and sadness.

“Blue Moon,” she muttered. Was that a pony’s name?

It pained me to see her like this. She was obviously having a nightmare. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed her hoof and squeezed. I didn’t want to hug her and risk waking her up, especially since it would be awkward to explain. This simple act seemed to slightly calm her down, as her expression slowly softened. Only problem is that now, she was squeezing my hoof. How much had this poor mare gone through?

I couldn’t help but notice how warm her skin was. Did she have a fever, or was I imagining things?

I stayed like this for a bit longer, until her grip lessened. I was finally able to go back to sleep, having freed my leg. Nopony could know about this.

A bit more than a week later, we arrived near Macintosh Hills. Over the past day, the terrain had progressively gotten less flat. Now, we were walking up a sloped but not particularly steep road. Here and there, long-dead deciduous trees stood, surrounded by pines. It always astonished me that those trees were still alive, despite how sickly they looked.

The road ahead turned into a bridge. This route would comfortably take us to Macintown and then through the range of hills. The alternative would have been to go around it, or, even worse, navigate through the forest that grew below and all around us. Celestia knew how many dangerous critters lurked there. And, while I didn’t doubt Iron’s ability to protect us, paying the toll was much safer as well as comfortable.

Iron… Over the past week, her cough hadn’t improved in the slightest. I was really starting to worry, but every time I brought it up, she shut me down, claiming it was just a cold or a flu. Eventually, after brushing off my concern, she told me she would see a doctor in the next town we visited.

I could tell she was depending on the meds to keep standing, and I didn’t want to imagine what would happen once she ran out. Thankfully, she hadn’t, and we were already there. Within an hour we’d reach the settlement.

What surprised me was the fact that she knew of Macintosh Hills, but hadn’t heard of the town that had formed on the bridge that crossed them. While it was a fairly recent town, I hadn’t thought it was less than two years old. Given its modest size, it wasn’t a huge shock either, but it still impressed me how much ponies could build in so little time. Well, for a pony, two years is quite a bit, but for a town it’s tiny.

Eventually, the wall of sheet metal came into view, a guard sitting behind it, on the lookout. I knew from my time here that other armed ponies were present behind the gate. How many and how well-equipped depended on the time of day.

As we approached it, the ghoul guard rasped. “Toll.” Banter dug through his saddlebags and retrieved twenty-five caps. Five for each of us, and ten for the cart. Him and Iron had agreed it would be best for her to pay her own fee. They inserted the money through the small gap intended for payment, and the gate lifted.

As expected, two other ghouls—a pegasus and a unicorn—were having a game of… chess? The board matched the descriptions I’d heard, but I’d never seen one in person. It looked… intricate.

When Iron entered, she walked up the stairs leading up the platform the guard on watch duty was sitting on. What is she doing?

“Hey, I wanna speak to Rotrick, he still alive?”

The security pony, clearly not in a chatty mood, replied, “Go bother somepony else.”

This rude reply seemed to have annoyed Iron, who approached the ghoul further, staring into his eyes. “You are on gate duty, it’s your job to talk to ponies who get on the bridge,” Iron scolded.

The unicorn playing chess chuckled without looking up. He muttered, low enough that the ponies on the gate couldn’t hear, “Fun to hear strangers stand up to Dustbowl’s bullshit. I wonder if he’ll fold.”

His opponent concurred, “Yeah, rookie’s gotta learn who to talk back to, and who he should just leave be.

Meanwhile, Iron and Dustbowl were now locked in a staring match. The latter broke the silence. “You think you can tell me what to do, outsider?” he growled in a low tone, getting up from his chair.

“You think we should break it up?” asked the pegasus mare.

“Nah,” replied her chessmate.

Iron was now standing up in his face. How she could bear a ghoul’s breath was beyond me, but I figured it had to do with her pride taking precedence on her senses. It seemed to work, as the buck almost looked intimidated. “Listen here, radbrain. I get that it’s your first month on the job, and second month since you developed the ability to think, but if a pony asks for your boss by name, you give them what they want. The old ghoul owes me over two hundred caps, but if you want, I can just shoot you and take your equipment as payment.”

Behind me, the pegasus croaked, “Wait, the chief has debts? Kinda outta character for him, not gonna lie.” It slightly concerned me that even Iron’s threat wasn’t enough to get their attention away from the board.

The gate duty guard prepared a retort, staring into Iron’s eyes. Meanwhile, the unicorn at the table replied to his partner, “Well, I can think of one debt he has—wait a second.” Finally, the stallion looked up, and, spotting the young mare, his eyes lit up. “Iron!” he cried out.

“Not now, Buckshot,” she nonchalantly shouted back. To her conversation partner, she said, “You joined a gang, have some respect for yourself and the ponies around you.”

Dustbowl, who’d been taken aback by the revelation that they seemed to know each other, was thrown off his game and stammered, “W-what does it matter to you how I do my j-job? I get paid to look out for raiders, not guide d-dumb tourists! And I’m security, not some kind of gang pony!”

This evidently severely pissed off the pegasus, who bolted through the air on skeletal wings, almost slamming into the earth pony atop the gate. Poking at his chest with a hoof, she yelled, “Show some fucking respect! This filly’s a better shot than you could ever even dream to be.”

Okay. Iron was idolised around these parts, apparently.

The buck gulped, then promptly apologised to Iron. The unnamed mare motioned for us to follow her, and we complied. Buckshot also came with us.

“Sorry you had to deal with that imbecile.” The pegasus sighed. “He’s our newest recruit, and it’s kind of our fault, too. We told him he didn’t have to deal with any bullshit from passersby. He took it as an opportunity to be rude to everypony who dared talk to him.”

Arching a brow, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell him not to? He kinda made a fool of himself.”

The unicorn answered, “That’s exactly why. It’s hilarious to hear him get talked down, though lately he’s been getting better at smack talk, so now I think he’s just pissing ponies off. We should probably tell him to cool it.”

The pegasus sighed, then nodded in agreement. “Anyway, what brings you here, Iron? I don’t see it being just the caps. And I assume those are your clients?”

“Friends,” she stated, “and I’m just passing through. Heading for Manehattan, through Dodge.”

“Cool. The chief’s outta town at the moment, but he should come back in a few hours. After he pays you back, the three of us should have some drinks at my place.”

Surprised, Iron asked, “Wait, you have your own place now? When did that happen? I thought you guys preferred living together in a big house.”

“That became harder when more ponies joined us. Eventually, some smoothlips joined and really wanted to have their own rooms at least. We ended up renovating some of the least damaged buildings and moving in. I think you’ll like what we’ve done with the town!”

“I was hoping I could sleep in the house I’d previously stayed at, but I take it somepony took it over,” speculated Iron Sights.

“Nope! It’s yours. We owe you a lot, so the least we could do was to not touch your place. In case you ever came back around.” She stuck out her tongue. I’d never looked inside a ghoul’s mouth, but a tongue without some of the skin that usually covered it was gross. I must have made a face, as she heartily laughed. “Sorry about that, little one.” I grunted in complaint, but she just patted me on the head.

“I’m older than Iron!” I protested, my voice cracking, causing everypony present to laugh. Pleaaaase take me seriously.

Being the first to regain her composure, Iron uttered, “You shouldn’t tease her so much, Dragonbreath, she’s a very capable young mare.” I nodded proudly. Wait, her name is Dragonbreath? That’s cool as shit!

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologised lightheartedly. “It’s just that she looks so pure compared to your ugly mug.”

Iron huffed in mock offense. “At least I don’t look like my face was raped by a cheese grater.” Both laughed so hard they had to stop walking. It wasn’t that funny…

Noticing our befuddled looks, Dragonbreath explained, “Sorry, rape victim humour.” Both shared another bout of laughter, leaving the rest of us mortified. “Anyway, Iron, come by my place tonight for a drink.”

“How about you come to mine instead? You already know where it is.”

“Good point, will do. I’ll bring Rotrick, too,” the ghoul replied, then turned away. “See you then!”

I was absolutely lost. What just happened? As we trotted on forward, it took me a few seconds to realise I hadn’t actually asked it out loud. I repeated my question, this time for everypony to hear.

Iron replied, “Oh, Dragonbreath was my drinking buddy back when I stayed here for a few weeks. She and I only have a few things in common—our sense of humour being one of them.”

“You know, it’s still weird to hear a filly talking about drinking,” commented Banter. “It can’t be healthy for you.”

I had to admit, it worried me immensely as well to hear her talking about that stuff. She was a good pony when she was sober, but what if she became as horrible as my mother when she drank?

Iron laughed. “Oh yeah, by the way I feel afterwards, there’s no way it’s good for my body. Helps my soul, though.”

Concerned, I pleaded, “Doesn’t that mean you should drink a little less?”

“For somepony your age, ‘none at all’ would probably be even better,” concurred Petal.

Iron sighed emphatically. “I’ve heard that all before. Most ponies don’t care, but sometimes there’s the odd one out that does try to talk me out of it. The response I always end up giving them is that they should mind their own business.” The accusatory tone at the end of her sentence stung.

Scowling, I replied, “Sorry…” But now I was curious. “Out of curiosity, though… Why even do it if you know it’s bad for you?”

She sighed again. “Because I get sad a lot, and when I’m drunk, my brain forgets how to do sad or even angry, and I’m just happy for a couple of hours.” While that distanced her from my mother, I couldn’t help but think that wasn’t great, no matter how she spun it.

Banter scoffed. “Sounds like you’re an alcoholic.” Well no, that depends on how much she dr—

Before I could voice my rebuttal, Iron dismissed him, “Perhaps. What of it?”

“‘What of it?’? Simple. Somepony who’s constantly drunk is a fucking liability,” spat the buck with more venom than I’d ever heard in his voice.

“‘Constantly’? I haven’t drunk for weeks. Unlike other alcoholics, I know when I can afford to drink and when I can’t. I’ve learned the hard way that I’m not a good shot when I’m hungover,” retorted the filly, staring daggers at the yellow buck.

“We shouldn’t stand around here all day,” I stated in an attempt to defuse the situation. “Let’s go find the inn.” Iron wouldn’t need a room, but I hoped it would be a good excuse to detract from the topic. Both huffed, but didn’t say anything as we started walking along the bridge again.

If I remembered correctly, we would reach the main town within a quarter hour. Iron and I ended up walking ahead, while Banter and Petal stayed further behind.

Eventually, on our way there, we trotted past a few shooting targets mounted to the road’s railing. What confused me was that they were angled against the valley. Where were they shooting from? Having noticed my perplexed stare, Iron commented, “Oh, I see they moved the shooting range. This place seems way more practical.”

After I explained my confusion, she answered, “Well, I would wager it’s somewhere over there,” pointing at the path across the valley. I recognised the path, and knew we would be walking on it in less than a dozen minutes.

The bridge we were on would soon cross over to the other side, and the main road through the range would continue north alongside the hill. A much smaller path would split off right there, and lead south towards the town. Macintown had been built on a plateau near a ridge, and by far the safest way to reach it, as well as the only realistically feasible one.

It made sense its inhabitants would practice their shooting from there. Only problem was… “But… that’s super far. How difficult is this distance? Could you hit one of those targets with a proper rifle?”

In mock offense, she gasped. “This is a proper rifle! It’s one of the best all-around models, even.”

Desperately trying to recover from my misstep, I scrambled for words. “I meant a scoped rifle.”

“Then yeah. Well, I guess it would depend on the calibre it chambers. You can put a scope on a twenty-two, but you can’t stop the bullet from tumbling after barely hundred metres. But with a five-five-six or around that, this would be a breeze. Provided the scope is zeroed, of course.”

“Zeroed?” I asked, dragged along with her enthusiasm, despite usually not being interested in guns at all.

“Properly calibrated so that the bullet hits where it’s supposed to. Anyway, three-hundred metres is one of those distances where a scope isn’t really needed yet—if you know what you’re doing, that is. I doubt your average raider could hit us at this distance other than by accident. Three hundred metres is what pre-war ponies would shoot at for sport.”

I blinked in surprise. “There was a thing like shooting for sports?”

“Yeah. It’s part of why I suggested this distance for the Rotting Stones to train their marksponyship at. The other being is that it’s very reasonable to train defending a high vantage point like both bridge entry points.”

“The what now? Rotting Stones?”

“Are they no longer a thing? They were the gang controlling this pass last time I was here. Dragonbreath and Buckshot were both part of it.”

“As far as I know, the two of them are just regular Macintown security officers. Hmm… I’d actually really like to hear about the last time you were here.”

“Sure,” she replied, “but I think I’d rather sit down somewhere first. The story’s pretty long. How about I show you my house?”

Author's Note

Actually, I take my previous A/N back, I like this chapter a lot, even if it could be a lot better.