One Last Mission

San Palomino Desert

Day 7

Darkness. Cold. Whistling wind.

To say I was confused when I first woke up was an understatement. My brain was still somewhat stuck in Dead Hooves’ memories, leading me to wiggles as I tried to squirm out of Willow’s hug. It was enough to show the difference between DH and myself to the ponies around me, but not enough to make things click in my head. Not until I felt my wings do a little flutter underneath me, the first reminder that I had them to begin with.

While my eyelids were heavy, my wings were enough to send my brain all it needed to wake up and remember what body it was piloting. Using what power my body held within it, I managed to open my eyelids just enough to see the sky above me. A clear, starry sky that, to most of the wasteland, was nothing but a myth. We were out of the storm.

“Wh-wha–”

My attempt to speak turned into a dry, hacking cough. My mouth and throat felt absolutely terrible, like somepony was trying to cover it with sandpaper. One hoof went to my throat, the other searched for anything nearby that would work to wet my throat. A combination of bad coordination and having just woken up led it to seem closer to drunk flailing.

Which made the fact it worked a surprise. My right hoof, having searched the same area at least, found a bottle of water that at first seemed to appear from nowhere. My dehydrated, sleep-addled mind didn’t care for how it got there, I just knew it was what I needed. I popped the cap off without a second thought and proceeded to down the entire bottle in less then a second. Fresh, pure, unirradiated water… immediately ruined by the scratchy voice that chimed in right after.

“If I can give a small suggestion to you, soldier mare?”

My good mood evaporated quicker than a feral ghoul on the other end of an M.E.W.. I tilted my head away from the sky, taking notice of the group of sleeping ponies – plus a griffon – that made up my company. Among them, awake and seemingly bored out of his mind, was Sharpshot. I was unfortunate enough to be the thing to break his boredom.

“Next time the doc says “don’t fly for a couple of days”, they typically are trying to help you,” he told me in a mocking tone, leaning towards me with his hooves precariously placed on the barrel of his rifle. “You are damn lucky that the armor ArcanaTech gave you is built like a stable, and that the cast’s magic kept your bones from breaking through your body. Judgemental shits they might be, but their work is damn good.”

“You done?” I asked weakly, brow furrowed.

“No, not quite.” The ghoul cleared his throat before continuing. “Long story short, you got a cracked rib, a small fracture in your left wing, and a concussion. Surprisingly your skull is fine, and so is your spine.” His hooves spread outwards, the abomination falling to the sandy ground beneath us. “There you go. Now I’m done.”

Despite my best effort, my muzzle found itself hanging open. “You figured all that out without any medical equipment?”

“Almost no medical equipment. Still got this little thing.”

He slid up the sleeves on one foreleg and tabbed the screen of his PipBuck. His admission didn’t make what he told me any less impressive. Was I going to admit that to Sharpshot of all ponies? Fuck no. Anything that made his ego bigger was staying in my head.

“So everypony made it out? Willow is alright? How about Gold and Gemini.”

His eyes flicked between the sleeping forms of each pony I mentioned. One of those glances was directly behind me, and it was the one I decided to turn my attention to first. I was met with the anxious, sleeping form of a certain gray unicorn. Her muzzle and horn were less than an inch from my back, close and safe while making sure to never actually touch me. For her, that was fine.

“Filly was worried as fuck when she saw you. Stuck to you like super glue,” Sharpshot explained. “You’ve made an impression on her. Less because you are one of the ponies that saved her, more because you are like her.” I turned my head back to Sharpshot. He shrugged. “Her words, not mine.”

I frowned. She figured it all out on her own, didn’t she? What I meant by bruising, and why I acted so much more careful around her. She knew something that I had only ever told two other ponies the complete truth of. The fall of my chest felt a lot heavier during my next exhale, vision descending towards the sand below.

“You want to talk about it?” My eyes instantly shot back up to Sharpshot, glaring at him. He instantly threw his hooves up and looked away. “Hey, just offering.”

My glare softened, then faded into something far more somber. I sighed. “Anypony ever told you that you make no sense? Emotionally, I mean.” His head turned, not looking at me but showing I had his attention. “One moment you act like you genuinely care, the next you are grounding my head into the closest hard object. Not exactly how a doctor should act.”

“Are you expecting emotional stability? From me of all ponies?” He asked, acting far more offended than I expected. “Of course I’m an emotional basket case. We all go through puberty, we all deal with the hormonal stress it causes, but most ponies get the chance to grow out of it.” He placed his left forehoof on his chest, glowering at me. “I didn’t get that. I hit puberty, and not too much later I’m this. Mentally, I matured. Emotionally? My crinkly body never got to escape it, even after escaping that grave.”

His last few words went from nearly shouting to almost a whisper, and once again he turned his head away. The wind brushed against my coat, giving my mane and tail just enough of a gust to make me realize I was out of the NB-2. For a few seconds, I figured he was done talking. I started to check over the nearby, slumbering form of Gold when he suddenly piped back up with a voice so soft and unghoul-like that it almost felt like it would fit on Minister Fluttershy.

“That’s… well, that’s half the reason.” That alone was enough to grab my attention. “It’s not everything. Yeah, emotions can cause ponies to do things with very little need for reason but… what I did? Back in the research station?” He hung his head. “There is more to it. A lot more to it.”

His eyes alone turned to me, which I thought was him waiting for approval. “Go on. I’m listening.”

As soon as he had that, his eyes turned to the sand near his hooves. “I told you about my mom and dad, right? Descendants from Ministries of Peace and Morals?” I gave a nod, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “Mom was a doctor, dad was a security officer. Both were always busy, because when the talisman for the Stable’s air filter broke a lot of ponies started getting sick. Many died, but others turned into ghouls like me… but more feral. Mom and dad both were terrified.”

“I can imagine. Escape the apocalypse just to see it come to life like a zombie novel.” He tensed at my words, but didn’t shoot me any glares. I continued onwards. “They were trying to help ponies though, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I was with mom trying to fight it,” Sharpshot said, nodding his head. “I originally told you my talent lied in precision. Not true; it just tends to work with me always hiding my disgusting figure and curse,” he looked to his flank. “The truth? Surgery. I have a talent for surgery. It’s the reason I was there fighting with mom inside the quarantine zone, not like it actually did much. It wasn’t some plague, it was irradiated air. Can’t escape that.

“All of which leads to… predictable results. A foal with a still developing immune system, constantly exposed to radiation no matter whether we were suited up to deal with patients or not, and eventually I got sick.” He shuddered. “Mom was scared, especially since I seemed to be losing my fight with radiation sickness. Dad and her fought about putting me out of my misery. Then, three days later, I seemed to just magically feel all better… well, except for the fact I look like shit.”

His hoof trailed up to his muzzle, removing the cloth that hid it away. He sat there in silence for some time, more than aware of what he wanted to say but scared to actually say it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and immediately hid his muzzle back under fabric.

“I was scared, mom was scared… everypony was scared. I was both myself, and very clearly not myself anymore. I became this ugly heap of dead and rotting skin, and with every other ghoul we saw being feral the reactions weren’t stellar.” He finally managed to look at me again. “That day, I found out what it felt like to end up on the other side of a gun barrel. The pony who was pointing it at me? My own father.”

…

A piece of me feared what was coming next, but he was too far into his explanation. A very roundabout one, but it was clear this was all part of whatever point he was trying to make. No lies, no excuses. The fact he clammed up after mentioning his dad’s reaction told me whatever was coming next hurt a lot worse than just being on the other end of a barrel.

“Did he shoot you?” I asked.

“He… he tried,” Sharpshot answered. He momentarily turned to Willow, whose hooves held his tail to the earth. “Mom knew I was different, but she couldn’t convince him to lower the rifle. He shot… she shielded me.”

Just like that, any wish to know what happened next was immediately overcome with shock. It felt unbelievable. A father wouldn’t try and kill their own child, who they spent years of their life raising. Even my own parents weren’t that bad; my mother hadn’t meant to kill that filly and I don’t think my father was ever sober enough to consider the option with me. The very idea of a parent wanting to kill their child felt wrong.

Yet that is exactly what I was hearing, coming from a pony who had once lived in a place spared the horrors of the surface. There had been enough sensible grounders to try and protect what made them civilized, and it had failed. Many, many other Stables offered more horrible, systemic or self-inflicted signs of this, but Sharpshot’s birthplace? Stable 17? All it had taken was one small thing going wrong, and the disease of those above ground had infected them.

Having it all presented to me like that made me briefly question how safe the Enclave, and my family by proxy, was from the same. Just briefly, because I still wanted to believe in my own kind. I wanted to believe that we pegasi were still above the grounders in some way, even if the gap had closed significantly with things I had learned about myself.

“The last thing I remember mom saying to me was that she loved me, no matter what,” Sharpshot said, petting Willow’s mane in an attempt to comfort himself. “Everything else was just… noises. My mom was dead, my dad had killed her, and he was trying to kill me. Something in me snapped and… and I made a choice that I can’t go back from.” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I killed them. All of them. I have no idea how, and I didn’t get out of it without getting pretty badly roughed up, but I did it. In my young, adolescent mind, they had decided I wasn’t one of them. That wasn’t going to change.”

His head suddenly snapped to me, sadness mixing with hate in a far different way than usual for the ghoul. Perhaps I had just always read it wrong, but where before I saw hate simply because he was an unstable nightmare, there was suddenly a pinch of jealousy. Just enough to make it visible on his face, but not enough for anypony to notice unless they really look.

“You got your worldview destroyed a few days ago, and you still want to believe in it despite everything that would entail for you and your family,” he said, finally bringing everything home. “It’s dumb. Really really dumb, but what actually got to me was the fact you had that choice. You had the choice, and you chose the one that seemed worse for everypony you love.”

“Is it, though?” I chimed in. I held a hoof up to silence him before he was able to give a preemptive retort. “What price would you pay to go from anarchy, where there is nothing keeping ponies and other creatures from inflicting the worst damage to you physically or emotionally, to safety? Even as a… half-unicorn, I would take safety and comfort over the wasteland.”

“Even if it leads to actual pureblooded pegasi to treat you like a radroach.’

I gave him a nod. “It’s not perfect, I know, but it's better than waking up every day wondering if you are going to die.”

Sharpshot snorted as he stood up and walked over to me. I did my best to sit up as quickly as possible, wincing at the pain that sprung up from my ribs. It was not as bad as it could have been, meaning Sharpshot had probably done some work on me while I was out cold, so the pain wasn’t bad enough to send me back to the ground. Unfortunately, in the time it took for me to get through the pain, he was already on me.

The ghoul’s following action was both expected and unexpected at the same time. He jabbed me in the rib, enough to make me grit my teeth from how horrible it felt but not so bad I fell back to the ground. The jab wasn’t anything close to how he had slammed me into the floor back in the stable, but it was still born out of malice. Just a more controlled malice.

“I know a fair few ghouls, zebras, and otherwise that would be disgusted to hear you say that.”

“What in tartarus does that mean?”

His eyes narrowed. “That question serious?” I gave him a nod. “Then you can figure out the answer yourself.”

I sighed, and dared to look away from him and back to Gemini. The moment I had sat up, her sleep had started to grow slightly more troubled, like I was her zebra dream catcher or something. Deciding that sitting up wasn’t best for my beaten body, I shuffled so that I was able to lay down facing her. Certainly beat looking at Sharpshot.

“You might want to tell her you're already taken, before she grows too attached,” Sharpshot said.

“Already have. Besides I… I don’t know if I swing both ways.”

“You don’t?”

“Never experimented. Had a lot of other things to worry about as a foal,” I smiled, “and Anchor asked me out, not the other way around. Didn’t really think about settling down with somepony until I met him.”

“That’s… actually kind of sad.” The ghoul had made his way around Gemini and myself, his glued to me. “Even I had a filly or two I liked before I met Willow, both back in the stable and out of it. And you are in the Enclave! What kind of shit did a supposed “pureblood” like yourself have to deal with where you couldn’t think about love?”

“An alcoholic dad with no control over his anger and a drug dealing mom that was absent most of my life.”

There was the briefest flash of surprise in his eyes, followed quickly after by a small fit of laughter. My brain immediately took it as an insult but, rather quickly, it became clear that it was born of something a bit more… real. It was more like the laughter was born out of my circumstances, and less myself.

“That explains a lot,” Sharpshot said. I shot him a glare. “You are an educated pony, so I assume you know that who we are just as much from nature as it is from nurture.”

“Yeah. It’s why I never yelled at Clear and Rainy,” I replied, nodding. “It’s why I tried to not act like my parents; I don’t want them to go through any of that.”

“Huh. Guess there is a bit of gold hidden in there.” Sharpshot’s eyes hinted at a smile behind his rags. As soon as I realized he meant that as a compliment, he had moved on. “Nevertheless, you are the result of the ponies who birthed you, both from a genetic standpoint and otherwise. I hear the kind of parents you were raised with, and your behavior makes a lot of sense.” He tilted his head. “Joining the Enclave was how you got away from them, wasn’t it?”

It was my turn to be shocked, which just made the joy on the ghoul’s face shine even greater. He wasn’t entirely wrong – getting away from my father was definitely a huge part in joining – but money was still as big of an aspect. Still, just the fact he had figured out half of my reason from nothing but a vague description of my parents was surprising. Actually made his claims of being any sort of doctor a bit more believable.

“Seems I nailed it on the head,” he said after about five seconds of silence. “You didn’t want to live that life anymore, so you went somewhere you would become tougher, stronger, less vulnerable. It worked to the point that you almost seem reckless at times. All that, because of how your parents treated you.”

“Does that really count for the nurture part of your argument?”

“This isn’t my exact area of study, so perhaps not, but it definitely feels like it fits.” He tapped his muzzle for a second or two, then clapped hooves together. “Yes, it is, I’m certain. In books they tend to talk about it in a more broad sense, but this is definitely the case for you. It also explains the version of you that appeared when you learned you weren’t pureblooded.”

“I’m guessing being taught surgery at such a young age would explain why you deal so well with blood and injuries, if that is how we are treating all of this,” I guessed, lowering my muzzle onto my front hooves. The way he puffed his chest out was a clear sign he took that bit of nurture as something to be proud of. “I… I guess I can accept all of that. You’re the doctor here after all, despite how little you seem like one at certain points.”

“Blame the mentor I had after leaving my stable. Could send a raider screaming for his mommy nearly as quick as Willow,” his eyes went past me, no doubt eyeing his wife’s sleeping form. “We were a terrifying group of ponies. Dead Hooves especially; mare gained a heck of a silver tongue over the course of our adventure. The group we got here? It feels similar in strength.”

“Are you… giving me a compliment?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

I decided that, in this instance, it was indeed a compliment. Sharpshot was still an asshole, but for some reason he wasn’t trying to make me tick right now. Perhaps this was his way of showing he cared while also keeping his distance. It lined up with Willow saying he was worried about me back at the station.

“There… is something that doesn’t line up though.”

I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

He got up and started pacing, mumbling to himself as he did so. I watched him closely, wondering what was going on through his head. After a time, with Sharpshot standing closer to Gemini’s tail than her head anymore, he spoke.

“Rhapsody, the Enclave places a lot of weight in being pureblood, you make that clear,” he said, continuing to pace back and forth. “I’m assuming they have the equipment to run an ancestry test, much like ArcanaTech did, to be able to claim who is and isn’t a pureblooded pegasus. I assume that everypony newly enlisted is tested, right?”

“While being pureblooded isn’t a requirement to become part of the Enclave, you are correct,” I answered. Sharpshot stopped pacing and looked at me. The look alone was enough to make me realize what was wrong. “Wait, they should have known.”

“Exactly,” Sharpshot replied, clapping his forehooves together once again before pointing his left one at me. “If they have the ability to run an ancestry test, then they would know you got unicorn and zebra in your blood.”

“But that–”

In my surprise and confusion, I had tried to stand up so I was facing Sharpshot down and not the other way around. Instead I aggravated my injured ribs, and collapsed back into the sand. Almost instinctively, the ghoul took a single step forwards as if he was about to help me, but then took two back to hide that urge. He didn’t need to help me, because I pushed through the pain and brought myself into a sitting position on my own power. It was just slower and less reckless than my previous attempt.

“That isn’t possible. Officers can’t be part grounders. It's supposed to prevent harmful ideas from possibly reaching the council,” I explained, one foreleg wrapped around the area I was certain the damaged rib was located in. “I couldn’t have become an officer if that was the case. I couldn’t have been inducted into the council.”

“Which means, somehow, they didn’t know,” Sharpshot replied. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, only to immediately snap the former back open and raise it enough to reach my eyes. “There are two possibilities.”

My heart rate was increasing, but I chose to hide fear behind confidence. “Alright, shoot.”

“First option: they lied about having the tech.”

“I highly doubt we would make these claims if we didn’t.”

“You’re the former councilmare, I’ll take your word for it… with a heavy grain of salt,” Sharpshot didn’t try to quiet his voice. I glared at him. “Option two: it was somehow changed after the fact. Possibly by somepony higher in the chain of command, possibly by somepony who knew you.”

I scowled, not because he was wrong but because I didn’t like what either option entailed. Yes, it was possible somepony had changed my records, but what reason would they have for doing it? Pegasi like myself weren’t supposed to be officers, but numbers like the common soldier. I… I wasn’t supposed to be on the council.

…

I wasn’t supposed to be on the council. I wasn’t supposed to be an officer. How much of my life up until last week would have been void if they knew? How likely is it that Iron Anchor would never have asked me out just due to knowing I wasn’t pureblooded? That meant Clear and Rainy would have never existed. Who was willing to see past that? Who had enough say in the Enclave military to somehow change my docs, either through bribery or forgery?

There was only one pegasus I was able to think of, and the entire idea it was them made me chuckle and close my eyes. It was Ironsight. There was nopony else that could possibly. He was the only foalhood friend that I had, and he had entered the military before I did due to a two year age difference. If anypony had changed the ancestry test, it had to have been him.

“Guess he isn’t as much of a supremacist as you said he was,” I whispered, just loud enough to get Sharpshots attention, but quite enough where he still didn’t catch what I said. All I was going to give him as a hint towards what I said was a smile.

As the early morning went on, I periodically asked Sharpshot more about certain things that had occurred while I was out. To be more accurate, what happened after my wings had strangely ceased to function – something we both knew was worth a look into if we ever came into contact with ArcanaTech out here – and how long had passed. As far as I was concerned it might have been over a week, and if that was the case it meant the Enclave had taken my no-call as a sign I had died or gone rogue. My last link to anything up in the clouds would have been cut off.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

There was a lot, but I’ll sum it up everything I missed the best I can. After I had been blasted off the building from the force of the Atomizer’s grenade, the others had been given enough space to escape the balefire fossil. I never showed up, leading Gold and Willow to volunteer to try and find me. I was found unconscious after a decent amount of searching, brought back to Sharpshot and Gemini, and they made their way out of the sandstorm.

In other words, I had technically gotten everycreature out alive, but it had nearly cost me my own life. Sharpshot had taken time to ask what actually happened to knock me unconscious in the first place. I recalled what I could of my encounter with Domino Effect, Mistletoe, and the other soldiers that blamed me for their death. A lot of it went over his head, but what had made sense was the damage spirits were able to cause mentally. Neither of us wanted to consider what might have happened if I had never been saved.

From there, the rest of it was simple. For about a day and a half they had been traveling San Palomino proper, heading towards the nearest water source on Sharpshot’s PipBuck. From there, finding a settlement shouldn’t be too complicated. Willow had carried me in that time, and my armor had been carried by Gold to keep me from cooking inside it. That was certainly appreciated.

Between it all, more miscellaneous topics had come up about their travels over the past couple of days, but it was enough to get us to sunrise. Compared to any wastelander not from San Palomino, the act of watching the sun rise into the sky didn’t seem that special. To ponies like Sharpshot, Willow, or anypony eastward, watching the clear sky turn a vibrant, beautiful shade of orange. An orange that can’t be seen anywhere else, and many only knew from faded pictures or memory orbs.

To anypony wondering why the Enclave didn’t have any control over San Palomino, there are two reasons. One was Trotson having control of one of the area’s two S.P.P. towers, therefore rendering us pegasi incapable of cutting grounders off from seeing Celestia’s beautiful sun. The other was technically our, but one simple thing kept us from ever acknowledging its existence: Las Pegasus.

The more pegasi thought it was lost to an overly irradiated hell, the better. To anypony not in the Enclave military, this region of the world no longer exists. We left an S.P.P. tower to its own devices, whatever clouds it made being used for reasons outside of the Enclave’s controls. Nopony had bothered to look into it; up until recently I had described everypony around me as a raider. Gemini made me doubt that.

Thus, San Palomino had been left to its own devices, with the news of a new F.O.B. near the Las Pegasus ruins the first ever sign that the Enclave actually wanted it. If at all possible, and if Ironsight’s reasons behind it didn’t prove enough whenever he radio’d in, I would travel there myself. Dashite or not, I wanted to know why we were setting up in the ruins of Las Pegasus.

All of that, however, could be momentarily tossed to the side in favor of watching the sunrise. San Palomino may not have had the cityscape of Trotson, but the light of Celestia’s star reflecting off the sand made it mystical, casting shadows over what dunes lay nearby. One such dune served as our resting place, something I hadn’t taken notice of due to my conversation with Sharpshot. I felt bad not noticing the world around me now.

The sky looked ripe for a morning flight, and that desire briefly overrode the state of my body. It didn’t take long for me to learn something was wrong; the mere attempt to open my wings was met with a sharp pain from one of my wings, into my back. Sharpshot was, unfortunately, correct about my wing. Moving proved to be as good an idea as sticking your head in a hellhound's mouth.

So I got comfortable with just watching the sunlight fall upon the desert. It wasn’t too long after that a certain unicorn started to rouse from her sleep. My attention turned to Gemini, watching her hooves paw the air in search of something. One brushed my wing, and the hoof recoiled back to her. It was cute and upsetting at the same time.

“Morning Ms. Trigger Happy,” Sharpshot teased. I scrunched my muzzle and glared at him. “What?”

“Getting shot isn’t a joking matter.”

“Here in the wasteland it is.”

“Yes cause getting shot by somepony is a really a good way of making frien–“

“M-Missus Rhapsody?”

My eyes fell back to the young, adorable pile of gray and sea green at my side, as if her speaking my mane was enough to prove me wrong. Her eyes looked up at me, a tired look of happiness filling her visage. It was enough to make my heart melt, the only thing keeping me from petting her mane was the acknowledgment she wouldn’t like it.

She would tell me if I was allowed to. I’m certain.

“Th-that’s really you, right?” She asked, her words slurring slightly.

“Yes, it's me,” I replied. I let my tone slip into something soft, motherly, and kind. It felt almost instinctive. “Sorry to scare you.”

Tears built up, and the floodgates opened just the slightest bit. It wasn’t an ugly cry. It was far more accurate to call it a release of stress, one caused by me being asleep for over an entire day. Knowing those tears were directed at me was… it hurt just as much as it comforted.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said. She slowly got to her hooves, stretching out as she yawned. “I-I’m sorry we weren’t there to save you. It was… i-it was really scary. Even with Sharpshot saying you were alright I thought… I thought…”

“Hey hey hey, don’t think about it,” I assured her, waving my hooves over her as if I was going to pat her back. “You couldn’t have done anything, so don’t think about it. I’m here, I’m awake. Think about that instead.”

While it didn’t stop her tears, she gave me the bravest nod she was capable of. Her expression grew confused, as if thinking about what could have happened was far more powerful than seeing the brightside. It was both a good and bad thing; expecting the worst was how any soldier or military officer was expected to think, but with Gemini’s mental health it did nothing but send her mind spiraling into darkness. She deserved to think happier.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” Gemini responded after a few seconds of silence. “Sorry.”

I smiled back at her. “Nothing to apologize for.”

The sound of an extraordinarily loud yawn behind us brought out eyes to Gold and Willow. The former was stretching as well, his bone creaking so loud it was impossible to not hear. The latter was less than thrilled about the griffon’s noisy wake up, glaring up for a decent while. Her throat pain probably didn’t help in any way.

Gold briefly flashed me a smile before turning to his mechanical arm, shaking and hitting it in order to get the sand out. As he did, Sharpshot made his way to Willow, pulling a packet of cloud nine from his saddlebags and giving it to his wife. It still felt wrong, but arguing with the couple about it had already proven to be futile.

Deciding to try and join everypony in the act of truly getting up, I pushed myself up. Immediately, I could tell something was off with my body. Not the off that I had experienced in the research station or the sandstorm, but a more clear off. A day and a half asleep, not using my body in any way, had caused a slight bit of atrophy to step in. I was still able to stand, but my legs did not hold the strength that they should. I sighed.

“You okay?” Gemini said, tilting her head with a worried expression.

“Yeah. Nothing self care can’t fix,” I replied, giving her a reassuring nod as I tested out a few steps. I was a bit unsteady, but it was possible. “Just not at my usual strength at the moment.”

“Lack of sleep does that to you,” Gold chimed in. He smiled at me as he continued to check and clean his artificial limb. “Happy to see pegasus awake.”

I motioned for Gemini to follow me as I walked over to the griffon. “Happy to know I was the only pony hurt. Better me than the rest of you.”

“Pegasus is definitely lucky. Recommend not gambling with lady luck, though,” he responded. “She fickle thing. Next grenade or fall might take you.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure a grenade isn’t going to be the thing that does me in.”

“You’ve definitely taken a beating these past few days,” Willow spoke up. I leaned my head in her direction, giving her a smug look. “If it weren’t for your wings you could easily pass for an earth pony.”

“And remain grounded? No way in tartarus,” I responded. I opened my uninjured wing, giving a small flap. “As soon as I’m able to, I’m not leaving the ground again. Barely had any time to fly these past few days.”

“Make sure to tell me when you do. You were wonderful to fly with back in Trotson.” Another nod, this time directed towards the alicorn. She got up and shook the sand off her body, Sharpshot quickly shielding his face. He glared, she giggled. “Whoops. Sorry sweetie.”

Any attempt to be angry at his wife died in seconds. A sigh of defeat led into a hug between the two. Words were shared between them, they kissed, and then separated. Any jealousy I felt towards the couple turned into content at seeing them happy with each other. They must have talked about the events back in the research station while I was unconscious. It would definitely explain why Sharpshot had been a lot less of an ass this morning.

“So, Sharpshot informed me of our current course,” I said, taking a few steps into what could best be considered the midway point between each member of my group. “Head to the river, follow it to the nearest settlement, restrock and figure out our way to Our Haven from there.”

“Ghoul left details out,” Gold replied. He gave the ghoul in question a disappointed look. “Not good to leave details out.”

“I just didn’t feel up for it. Besides soldier mare and I discussed more interesting topics before the sun rose,” Sharpshot explained, giving a shrug. “Long story short, we have a destination already. Some of ArcanaTech’s ponies told me of a place called Underside, probably the closest location to Trotson and only a few days out. Apparently some of them have been there for one reason or another.”

I raised my brow. “I thought ArcanaTech stays completely underground.”

“Mostly correct,” Gold said, crossing his talons. “We work for ArcanaTech. Therefore ArcanaTech is out here. Other ponies also work for ArcanaTech.” His expression grew… uncomfortable sly. “Like pony who ripped off pegasi a week ago.”

“Pony who ripped me o–” My eyes widened, jaw hung. It was so obvious I should have known it sooner. “That cheeky bitch.”

Gemini looked between the sly elderly griffon and myself, her confusion growing as quickly as her concern. “I-I’m guessing something happened before I met you all?”

“Train Rhapsody arrived on only working train in Equestria. ArcanaTech’s train, to be precise,” Gold said, eyes staying on me. It was the kind of look that screamed that I should have known something was wrong. “Uses different engine than old world trains. Moondancer designed it. ArcanaTech employed wastelanders to man it. Earth pony scammed pegasus for sunrise sarsaparilla.”

If everycreature’s eyes weren’t already on me, they were now. Something had to have knocked loose back at the research station, because I didn’t feel like my usual stoic self. A blush mixed with a scowl, my mouth letting out sounds that meant nothing but certainly sounded angry. It didn’t help that I knew, even without looking, that Sharpshot was on the verge of laughter.

I had thought trusting Gold back in Trotson Station was my first mistake here on the surface. Turns the notes that Ironsight had concerning how grou- wastelanders operate, and my admittedly rather warped perception of them, had led to some slight miscalculations. How was I supposed to know the prices for drinks when I wasn’t used to bartering? That isn’t how things worked in the Enclave.

“Well geezer, don’t keep us in the dark,” Sharpshot said, his cockiness growing with every word he spoke. “How much did she pay?”

In a moment of desperation and weakness, I silently mouthed the elderly griffon a plea. Unfortunately, it was for naught.

“Sixty nine caps.”

There was a brief silence, followed moments later by a snort. It proved to be a floodgate to a storm of laughter loud enough that I’m certain Red Eyes himself could hear it. Most of the corpsing was caused by Sharpshot and Willow Wisp, to nopony’s surprise, but Gold quickly joined in with far more controlled wheezing. The only one not partaking in my embarrassment was the only pony here that likely wasn’t well versed in letters or numbers, being Gemini. Poor mare was looking both worried and confused.

“Is… is sixty-nine a lot?”

“I’m guessing it is,” I answered, sighing. The laughter hadn’t ceased, and it was starting to make my temper rise. “Can you three stop already!”

They didn’t, at least not at my command. My companions’ corpsing went on for at least two more minutes, my eyes choosing Sharpshot specifically to glare at, if for no other reason than he was the wastelander I liked the least. When their laughing fit finally did end, he was the last to finish up, though I’m certain he was faking most of it by the end anyways. It certainly didn’t sound real anymore.

With a renewed silence, I sighed and allowed my eyes to wander, which led to my landing on Willow Wisp. Sharpshot’s wife was currently grimacing, throat pains no doubt overriding that joy she had felt from the burst of amusement beforehoof. Searching back on what memories of Dead Hooves I was able to recall – which was starting to seem like a decent chunk of her life both before and directly after she had ended up in the wasteland proper – that suddenly seemed weird.

Apparently her masochism hadn’t survived contact with killing joke. Outside of her obviously being an alicorn, it was probably the clearest difference between the Willow of years ago, and the Willow of now. Considering her situation, and how the rest of the Unity acted, that spoke to just how free she was of their hive mind; of having who she was washed under a sea of consciousness so chaotic even the strongest wills were no doubt broken by it.

“You all done now?” I asked. The lack of verbal response was enough of an answer. “Okay, so not everypony in ArcanaTech stays underground, that is very clear now. I’m surprised that they allow wastelanders to live with them.”

“True. Typically employment involves a series of tests. Medical, education, the like,” Gold explained, a bit of wheezing in his voice. Seems his age and smoking habits were leading to a longer recovery time for him. “Even then, those born in ArcanaTech treated more respectfully. Seen more pure than us above ground.”

“Sharpy and I have done some odd jobs for them ourselves.” My attention swerved back to Willow. She was still grimacing in pain, but her telepathic voice certainly didn’t reflect it. “Grabbing equipment, recovering research from ministry hubs in other cities, things we are qualified to do. Allows her to keep her ponies safe for some plan they have while getting what they want.”

“And let me tell you, Moondancer was a bitch of an I.M. to deal with,” Sharpshot chimed in, sitting down and crossing his hooves. “She hires and pays well, sure, but she makes it clear that she doesn’t trust or care for the ponies she hires. Would seem like an easy way to drive off mercs, but then you realize how she keeps ponies under control.” He tapped the side of his head. “I know she has the ability to make ponies do what she wants, or off themselves for her. I know she can plant spells to watch through your eyes, placed with equipment much like your MentaBuck. Lucky Heart is better over all but,” he looked to Gold, “I’m not always sure she is in charge.”

The implication made the griffon’s eyes narrow. “She is. We made it so. Lies not good in merc work.”

“Oh, I have no doubt she is ‘in charge’ from a literal standpoint, geezer. I’m questioning if she is the one actually calling the shots.”

“Moondancer is not in charge. Merely assistant now. Decisions by ArcanaTech are Lucky’s too. Guarantee.”

“Okay, fine, but I hope you realize that isn’t the defense you think it is.” For a brief second, it seemed like Sharpshot had submitted completely to Gold’s words. Then, he looked at me. “By the way, soldier mare, the armor that ArcanaTech gave you and Gemini? It had an incredibly advanced tracking spell on it. Same for the geezer here. You’ll thank me later for… tampering with it.”

I allowed myself to frown.

Before the union of the three tribes, life expectancy was around the same as the current day wasteland. Lots of ponies died at younger ages, leaving young foals in their teens or possibly younger on the throne. These foals gained advisors to help train them in the art of diplomacy, conduct, warfare, and otherwise. At least that is what it seemed on the surface; young minds were easier to warp than older ones, and advisors had a tendency to hold agendas that both gave them power and led to the foal thinking like them. In many ways, it created a spiral of ruling families going further and further down darker paths due to having the wrong ponies at their side.

If it wasn’t clear enough, that leads to a very different view of monarchy than any pre-war pony would have you believe. Celestia was the exception, not the rule. That only made it more clear when Luna took her place on the throne, and the nation started its descent towards Tartarus’ gates. It can be easily summarized that corporations, or establishments that act like a corporation, act under the same principle.

All of that to say the same thing was happening now in ArcanaTech. Knowing who was truly in charge put a lot into perspective, and made it clear that all further communication with Moondancer was to be treated like a member of the high council; an enemy just as much as they were an ally.

Breakfast involved oatmeal and nothing else, but I didn’t care. I was hungry as sin – no doubt a result of having not eaten in an entire day – and that led to me devouring my portion like a rabid animal. I had never felt that hungry in my entire life. Probably sounds stupid to anypony who lived down in the wasteland their entire life, and certainly would have sounded dumb to a much younger Singing Rhapsody.

Guess military life, for all the twists and turns it sent me through, had spoiled me a bit. The memories of a time when I wasn’t sure if father would actually put a meal down on the time, or grab out rations, or anything like that were there distant. At times it seemed to belong to a different pegasus entirely, despite knowing for a fact that it was indeed me. As they say, time mends all wounds.

I made sure to grab the radio from my saddlebags, which had been kept with the NB-2 armor, so that I knew when Ironsight would contact me. I imagined it was probably too early for him, probably eating much like we were. Sharpshot had also put DJ-PON3 on for the others around me, but I wasn’t that interested in whatever they were saying. Especially when I had other stations to listen to.

For example, S.M.R..

“After announcing their plans to start stripping the E.S.S. Hurricane a few months ago, I am happy to finally announce the Shattered Moon has finally managed to get it into port. The operation to right the capsized vessel was a long, arduous one, but it's finally back at home. “

“Now, I don’t need to tell you all to stay out of our protector's way while they clean it out. There is no telling what irradiated creatures lurk within its hull still, after all, and I doubt anypony with eyes for loot alone would want to go out that way. Besides, if we want the false star dealt with, it's best that the Shattered Moon have it, and not some random pony like myself.”

“Now, I hear you all are liking Songbird Serenade, eh? Seems the Enclave has good taste. How about another round of some of her greatest hits.”

Whoever the pony on the other end of the radio was, their voice was the epitome of calm. They refused to give their own name over the radio, strange as that was considering Enclave stations always did and we at least had a nickname for whoever DJ-PON3 was. This radio stallion was just some random wastelander as far as I was concerned.

Striping what I assumed to be an old equestrian warship… after two hundred years.

I understood the intention, but it seemed like a waste. Not because it wouldn’t have anything on it, because that was a lie – a warship certainly would be filled with shit wastelanders would be interested in. The problem lay in the fact it had clearly been capsized, had sat in the water for over two centuries, and no doubt been rusted and decayed to tartarus. Half the ship, possibly more, was useless to the Shattered Moon. How much could they really get out of the other half?

At first it seemed easy to wave off as desperate ponies searching for something, anything, to give them an edge over an enemy. The calm, serene nature of the pony over the radio painted a different picture. There had to be more to this. Something wastelanders – or at the very least the Shattered Moon – knew was on E.S.S. Hurricane that was important.

The question is what is that damn important to remove a two century old ship from its resting place. Best guess a pegasus could make? A megaspell. Would a group possibly formed from an anti-ministry group want one? Who knows.

Still, grounder-made or not, I felt some excitement at knowing an old Equestria warship was at shore. The military mare in me couldn’t help but feel excited to see such a relic. I made a mental note to keep it in mind, in case we somehow ended up at the port while searching for my traitorous squadmates.

The sound of the S.M.R. radiostallion filled my ears for a decent portion of the day. We started our long journey to Underside directly after breakfast, with me having to fight with Sharpshot for the right to walk on my own for just a bit. It certainly wasn’t comfortable with my still-mending ribs, but my body needed the exercise. It took two hours of walking till the ghoul finally made me give in, and I found myself on Willow’s back.

While at first being to ride on another pony when I didn’t think I needed to was embarrassing and more than a little shameful, there was this other feeling attached to it I would never admit to any of them. A strange nostalgia, like I had done this for years upon years of my life. It made no sense, especially since four days ago was the first time I had ever done it, but the feeling was there. It stayed, and it refused to leave.

Then, over midday, it happened.

“Rhapsody. Are you there?”

Everycreature stopped, and all eyes fell on me. As soon as I heard Ironsight’s voice, an excitement and reassurance hit my entire body. No tears, thank Luna, but by all the good in the universe his voice was there. He wasn’t abandoning me! The filly in me surfaced as I held the radio up, turning the MentaBuck’s own off simultaneously.

“Yes, I’m here!” I said, probably with the most pure, foal-like enthusiasm that he had ever heard in his entire life. “That is you, Ironsight, right? I-I’m actually hearing your voice?”

A pause, followed by that similar familiar voice carrying a certain degree of surprise. “Rhapsody? Is… is everything alright?”

“Yes!” I replied instantaneously, pressing the radio against my chest and rubbing it against my coat. “Yes, everything is alright. By Celestia, I’m just happy to hear you after literally everything that happened this past week.”

I didn’t care that I was being watched, mainly because a piece of me wanted these grounders to see how close I was to Ironsight. Foalhood best friend after all, and neither my parents or duty had been able to break it. Tartarus, I’d say that both of them just made our friendship that much stronger.

“I… well I wasn’t quite expecting to hear this side of you again,” Ironsight said, embarrassment filling his voice. Behind it, however, was his own, more subdued joy. “I’m happy to hear from you too. It felt wrong not having you around here in Aery.”

Okay, so perhaps hearing that made me wish I was able to cry. Sadly, or maybe fortunately depending on how you saw it, there was no world-view shattering event like last time. I was more than okay to just close my eyes, and continue hugging the radio as if it was truly him. It was the closest I’d ever get, for the rest of my life. I’d have to take it.

“It’s… it feels wrong without you too,” I whispered, just loud enough that I was certain the radio had caught it. “You, and Anchor, and Rainy and Clear and just… Luna let me just take in all of this for a moment.”

…

…

“Okay, I… I think I’m ready to actually talk now,” I replied, opening my eyes. They were so watery, and yet left every time before the ability to let them fall was gone. “Sorry Iron. As I said, the week has been a lot.”

“I can hardly imagine,” he responded, a sigh coinciding with his words. “As much as I want to just chat with you like old times, we should get the “official” stuff taken care of first.”

My head nodded on instinct, despite knowing he wasn’t able to see it. “Of course, sir. Perhaps I should start off by introducing you to some individuals I’ve met.”

“As in, more than Sharpshot?”

I ignored the glare said ghoul gave the radio, and looked specifically to Gemini. I snorted in amusement, and shook my head.

“A lot more.”

“So to summarize the important bits: Angel Hair was out of Trotson around the same time you entered, and she sold off classified information to find a father that doesn’t know she exists,” Ironsight said. “Plans don’t survive contact with the enemy, I know that, but… fuck!”

“Not all bad. Know where other pegasus heading. Planning to take care of her there,” Gold replied. He was reveling in the distress Lucky, Moondancer, and himself had given my friend. “Surprised councilor isn’t worried about friend's injuries.”

“Oh, trust me, work a month or two with Rhapsody and you’ll realize it's near impossible to put her down.” I puffed my chest out at Ironsight’s words. Everyone else seemed a bit more worried at the statement. “She’s as durable as tungsten. Seen very few pegasi as tough as her.”

“Yeah. She’s got the grit of an earth pony,” Sharpshot replied, the insidious twist his expression took making it clear it wasn’t a compliment. At least, to him it wasn’t. Clearly he hadn’t figured out who had changed my medical files yet. “And the hardheadedness of one too. Outside of the day we met I haven’t seen her without some form of injury.”

Ironsight remained silent for a second on the other end of the radio. When he did finally speak, their was the slightest hint of venom hidden within his response.

“I’ll… choose to take those as compliments for her. She’s tough, yes, but far tougher than any earth pony I’ve fought.” A snort. “They don’t get back up after being shot at.”

Sharpshot rolled his eyes. “Clearly they just haven’t shot in the right place yet.”

“Or perhaps some random grounder is nothing compared to a trained soldier,” I shot back, giving the ghoul a taste of his smugness. Somehow, it just seemed to make his own expression more apparent. “No matter where they go, Ironsight, I assure you of this much: they will pay for betraying the Enclave.”

“With you the one giving that reassurance, I have no doubt,” Ironsight replied. “I’m afraid I can’t offer any updates on their position. The Cloud Guard as well as the Sky Force has not been cooperative. The reason why is obvious, but it doesn’t make the lack of help any easier.”

Sharpshot rolled his eyes. “Mind filling in blanks for the ponies here who aren’t born with wings.”

“The Cloud Guard is responsible for threats above the cloud. Sky Force is our navy, and what you all are probably more familiar with,” I looked at Gemini, “unless you grew up not knowing pegasi exist.”

“I figured one of them might know about where your targets are. Unfortunately, given your status as a dashite, that hasn’t worked out,” Ironsight explained with a sigh. “I hate to say it, but I’m as good as useless. Almost makes you wonder if–“

“You are already doing more than you need to, Iron. Don’t question yourself,” I told him. Sweet Celestia, I wish I was able to hug him. Instill a bit more confidence my absence must have taken away. “Have faith in yourself, and in the Enclave.”

“A-as Miss Rhapsody said, we got this!” Gemini said. I flashed the young unicorn a smile.

I expected her to take my back. I didn't expect everycreature else to do so as well.

“With you as long as Sharpy is with her I am,” Willow replied, leaning her head towards her husband.

Sharpshot snorted. “Well she needs someone to patch her up and watch her flank.”

“Pegasus has me too,” Gold replied, tapping his chest with one claw. “Shall make sure she is prepared for wasteland. Show her how bartering works?”

“Haha, very funny,” I responded, crossing my hooves across Willow’s back. My disapproval at his joke proved to be fleeting as I looked between all of them, an expression closer to confused relief taking its place. “Thanks, though. Wasn’t really expecting it from all of you.”

“Well, trying to be a better mare wouldn’t mean anything if we didn’t treat you well,” the alicorn replied, swaying back and forth happily. I had to wrap a hoof around her to keep myself from falling off her back.

Ironsight obviously wasn’t able to hear Willow’s response. I knew that, if it was anypony but myself that had told him of the alicorn's existence, he likely wouldn’t have believed it. Not that I blame him; she was the metaphorical needle hiding inside a mountain of storm clouds. A needle that I… well, I think it was safe to consider her a friend at this point. How strange that thought was, considering everything I was unaware of a week ago.

“I don’t trust any of you, but it’s clear Rhapsody does,” Ironsight told them all. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you all. Far more than any grounder has ever received and more than you likely deserve. Keep her safe, for me and the family she has up here.”

As everycreature else gave him a collective nod – which was done more out of respect for his station then who he was, given some of the unpleasant expressions around front my companions – his words caused me to go deep in though. A piece of me wondered if it was really a good idea, given how my emotions had been since leaving the clouds, to ask about Anchor and our foals. Yet, at the same exact time, not inquiring about how well they were doing seemed even worse. One line of thought battled another, wishing to take control and give into them.

“Well, while I would certainly be interested to hear about what actually living on the surface is like, I have to go. I’ll radio you all again in seven days. Ironsi–”

“Ironsight, wait.”

All eyes turned on me, and my mind started to spiral. I had hoped asking him to wait would be the key to turning the tide of my inner war in one direction. Instead, it felt like I had just made everything worse. Now I had no choice but to say something.

“Is something wrong Rhapsody?” Ironsight asked, the tone of his voice overwhelmed by concern.

“I… I, uh,” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in, and said the first thing that came to my mind, “I’m glad I got to hear your voice again.”

My stomach was twisted into a knot. My muzzle had failed me.

“It was good hearing you too Rhapsody. Ironsight out.”

With that, the radio went silent. I bit into my bottom lip, refusing to open my eyes because I knew damn well just how close to tears I was. Seeing my companions through watery eyes felt like too much. I dropped the radio onto Willow’s back, and then brushed it down to the desert sand, a soft thump signaling my success. Then, to hide the emotions that any better soldier would easily lock into a mental cage deep within their mind, I lowered my head onto the fluff of the alicorn beneath me and crossed my hooves over my muzzle.

Only then did I open my eyes, revealing my magenta hooves covering my vision. My one chance for the next week had passed with me failing to do the simplest of tasks. Anchor, Clear, and Rainy would no doubt hear about me from Ironsight, but I would hear nothing about them.

The fuck kind of mother is too scared to learn about how their own foals are doing?

“Rhapsody?” Gemini called to me. She was clearly afraid of what she was about to ask, but she was far braver than I was right now. “Are you… i-i-is everything–”

As I was able to tell where her voice came from, I moved my head to look in the opposite direction. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Singing, we aren’t going to make fun of you for–”

“I said that I don’t want to talk about it,” I told Willow, just a little more aggressively than I had said it to Gemini. I buried my head deeper into her coat. “End of discussion. Just get moving.”