CHAPTER 34: THE PONY WHO WOULD BE GOD

"Our ancestors failed the province. But where they did, we shall not. History only repeats itself when one does not consider to look back. I have witnessed their mistakes, and I do not intend to fail."

A dreary cascading curtain of rain poured down onto a grey ground. Bad-tempered billows of black stormclouds whisked in the intense breeze stirring in the atmosphere. On the surface, no such wind blew. Simply the bleakness of the wasteland's summer rain -- remained still and unmoved by anything.

Alone a buck, no older than eleven, lay belly down on the icy dampened powder of the wasteland's floor. Where overhead the rain maliciously rapped at bent corroding steel making up the roof of the bus-stop. From his crude shelter he watched the murky water pool in the corners of the broken asphalt of a quiet highway running right in front of him.

His jaw rested on folded hooves, as he waited. In every direction the grayness was spread. Miles and miles of the grim purgatory, which in the distance eventually vanishing in a misty haze of rain.

The low cackle of static lilted in the air, the source of the sound from his Pipbuck. Every now and again the shrill noise dimmed to a faint whisper of a station. Be it music, or a pony calling out for help -- the buck would lift his head for a moment, glance at the green screen, with a line of blurred pixels creeping up the left corner.

On the device a line of stations was found. All of which gave of the same, drilling static. Sighing, the buck returned to laying upon folded hooves, waiting.

The cold nipped his nape, forcing a shiver.

Eyeing the black wet dirt smudge his crimson coat, he grimaced. Washing the filth away in the rain didn't help, nor did rubbing it out. Any efforts to remove the grime made the grit's presence more profound. Sticking to his fur with a more permanent, be it thinner, sloven mark.

The buck drew a lung of the crisp air, saturated in the frigidness of the downpour. "Mom... dad... where are you?"

Pitter patter, the fat droplets tapped diligently, pitter patter.

A grumble arose from within his stomach, bellowing the need for food aloud, over the roar of rain. A brief sharpness lanced itself through his gut, causing him to quickly rise, and clasp a hoof over his belly.

The buck looked out into the vacant horizon. Seeing, just as he had for the entire day, nothing. Behind him squatting in the mud was a convenience store, meant for those traveling by bus. The square shack of a structure held a hollowness to it. The facade leering at him like a hungry wild beast.

On the dark boarded windows were posters of governor Stormfury pointing at whoever gazed at the image. The mare glared furiously as though she was disappointed with the onlooker. The bold yellow text beneath her was faded, and the corners of the paper were peeling off of the glue clinging it to the warping wood.

Even the wooden door leading in was desperately hanging to the top hinge, dangling open inviting anyone from the outside in. Turning himself to the building, the persistent grouse of his stomach pricked him, forcing a sour wince to form.

In the doorway of the empty building, he saw a lanky creature, poking its eye behind the edge of the doorframe. The beast was no bigger than him, and a small horn protruded from its little black head. The moment the buck's eyes caught sight of the stranger, it retreated into the shadowy interior of the store.

Extending a hoof out to the store, he called, "Wait! I'm not going to hurt you!"

With his hoof still jutting out toward the building, he waited a few seconds. When no replies came, he tightened his diaphragm, and stepped out into the rain. Each raindrop that pelted his fur felt like an air rifle pellet, speedily striking him and leaving a frosty kiss where it had hit.

Constantly the rain battered him, as he dashed over puddle and slushy mud alike. When he arrived at the front entrance of the store he paused. Huffing quick, deep breaths, the buck could feel the cold collective sting of the rain sink deeper past the fur and into his skin.

Shaking himself like a dog, thrashing the water of a new bath off of him, droplet flew away like his own storm coming directly off of his coat. Once the most of the water had been removed from his fur, he took a deep breath surveying his surroundings.

To the right, a dim counter, and to the left three rows of shelves. The light pouring in through the doorway silhouetting the empty shelving units in a fine silver lining. What the outside illuminating did not touch, was shrouded in pure darkness. The buck's eyes scanned the area from side to side, slowly. Hoping to find someone.

When his sight befell the end of the first row of shelves, a slight movement in the shadows caught his attention. Snapping a fix onto the spot, he gingerly walked to the end of the isle. In his stride rusty cans scattered across the floor, melding in with the blackness were jostled aside. Poking his head around the corner of the self he saw a pile of three cans of food neatly amassed into a pyramid.

Arching an eyebrow, the scene shifted his head to one side, "What the?" He muttered.

A voice spoke to him, soft and flowing, tinged with a low honeyed hiss. "Do you like the presents I found here?"

The hair's upon the buck's nape shot up, as his eyes darted about madly searching for the disembodied voice. "What?! Who's there! Show yourself! I'm not afraid of you!"

The buck's heart was pounding, as the voice tittered, "You're a funny one, aren't you? I like that. But please, do not lie to me. I can feel your heart beating away like a drum."

Seizing his frantic behavior, the buck looked to the small cans of food. "How can you tell that?"

"Because I'm part of you." The voice answered in a delicate sweetness. "And usually when you're part of someone, you tend to know if they're scared. Wouldn't you agree?"

The buck craned his nose upward, squinting at the creaking metal support beams supporting the ceiling. "If you're part of me, then how come I saw you by the door?"

"Would you prefer it if I were to show myself?" The voice asked.

The buck nodded, "It would be a little more of a formal meeting if I saw you."

It's voice faded into the surrounding air, "If you so wish it..."

As the buck's eyes wandered the room, passing by the shelves, and cans spread about the floor. In the traveling path of his gaze he caught, out of the corner of his eye, a body.

On the top of the nearest shelf, sat a young Alicorn. The creature had neither the build of a filly, or of a colt. The slender, lanky torso of the stranger was mysteriously transparent, like the murky puddle of a midnight bog. In every aspect beast was like a shadow of a pony, with round ghastly white eyes piercing the veil with an unnerving glow.

A brisk spike of surprise struck his neck, sending the buck backward in the specter's presence, stumbling back onto his haunches.

The creature floated down off of the shelf like an autumn leaf drifting to the ground. Landing on all four hooves, it bowed graciously to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The buck was still on his rump, eyes wide, and staring at the apparition. "W-What are you?"

It blinked at him. "Why, I'm your friend. Well, more like a guardian angel, of sorts."

"B-But," the buck stammered eyeing the Alicorn's ghostly appearance, "you're like are spirit, a ghost, or something!"

"That may be so, but I mean you no harm.” It daintily crossed a hoof over its left breast, “This I swear."

Looking down at the meager mound of canned goods, the buck felt a dreadful sinking, like an anchor tossed and slowly deepening the already empty space in his chest. Out of the void within him a soreness throbbed right below his heart. The feeling of loneliness growing brighter and more intense.

"Did you put this here? For me?"

"Well," it scuffed the ground with one hoof, giggling sheepishly, "I may have not assembled them. But it was I who found you alone, cold, and rather hungry. Being your friend, I couldn't stand seeing you suffer in such a manner."

He trailed his eyes up, meeting the harsh penetrating spheres of the creature, "You say you're my friend, but I don't even know your name."

Rocking its head side to side, it hesitated, opening its mouth only for nothing to be said.

Once more it placed it's blank saucer-like eyes on him, "I'm sorry, but I don't have a name. I hope that doesn't trouble you."

Laying a hoof over his heart, the buck smiled feeling the soreness lift, "No, I... I don't mind at all. We can give you a name. A proper one at that."

"Do you want to know my name?" The buck asked.

Ambling to the buck's side, the creature wrapped a hoof around his shoulder, pulling him tightly to its side. "I can guess! Let me see... Is it, by chance, Little Red?"

A cold sweat covered every inch of Vladimir's body. Over the chilling moisture a constant feverish shudder took hold of him. With each shallow breath the stallion took caused the shaking to grow more vigorous.

The medical bed sheets were tightly tucked into his sides, as the wires of a heart monitor had been inserted into the bulging purple veins of Vladimir's shoulder. The green heart rate line bounced in paused intervals, pinging to the movement of his heart.

Everyone from the meeting was gathered around his bed. Looking down at the newly formed beads of sweat develop on his brow, and race past the temples of his head, taking with them any other smaller fresh droplets sitting stationary.

"I don't understand," Dahlia muttered laying the backend of her hoof on his forehead, "I was sure the healing potion would have corrected any damage done by the storm."

Ironside sighed, pouting disapprovingly, "This whole event has really set us back on everything. Who knows what other information he had."

Feeling Vladimir's sweat dampen her fur, Dahlia retracted herself, and looked to Ironside. "Our main concern for the moment is getting him well. Whatever caused this has certainly been with him for a long time now. Whether he's told anyone about his condition remains to be unseen."

Lucy shook her head, keeping both eyes on Vladimir. "We thought he didn't look right, but what could we do? You can see pretty clear now the freakin' potion didn't work."

"There's not much to do." Dahlia countered. "We've got him stable for the time being, and that's good enough for now."

The doors at the end of the medical bay was pulled open, where in the doorway stood a Coalition soldier, dressed appropriately in the standard beige armor of their army. Ironside's eyes spotted the guard, and returning to those gathered around Vladimir he gave a low bow of his head.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer, but I need to work with what we have." He faced himself to the door. "All that we've acquired is all that we'll need for now. Hopefully when he wakes up there will be more he has to share."

Ironside gave a slight nod to the group, "Until then, maybe you can do some investigating into it. Don't hesitate to report anything you find out about him."

Ironside's gaze shifted to the brothers, holding a firm commanding stare, "Especially you two. Even if you don't work for us anymore, I hope you'll aid the cause however you can."

Neo’s eyes pinched in an intimidating glare, locking his eyes with Ironside's. Adam did not give such an impression -- rather he nodded once, "All of us will do what we can, sir."

Ironside smirked, "Excellent. I expect nothing less."

The general's walk had a slight swagger in each step. A victorious sway that made Neo bar his teeth while he went out the door. "Who the hell does he think he is? Does he still think we're dogs in his army or something?"

"Maybe, maybe not." Dahlia replied. "But he's the highest ranked Coalition officer here, and even if you're not part of the order, it's probably wise for all of us to do a little investigating."

Adam looked up at his older brother, smiling in hopes to remove the bitterness resonating off of Neo. "I have some recordings from an officer who worked around the cells in the Darkmines. That has to be a start, right?"

Neo loosened the force of his teeth, as the seething tempered expression vanished. "I guess it's something."

Adam kept a chipper tone, "That's the spirit!"

"What about us?" Ally interjected. "You can't expect us to be left out, right?"

Adam shook his head quickly. "No no no! Not at all!"

An idea took form. A glowing cerebral spark that sent Adam’s face alight with beaming inspiration. "Wait! I have an idea, too!"

Ally stepped forward, blinking at the newfound thought Adam had. "What do you have in mind?"

"There's a tracking device," Adam began, "inside Ranger's room. Stable-grade tech too. Maybe you guys can take a look at it. It was giving off a signal yesterday, so possibly you can trace where the source came from. It might shine some light on who he was actually working for."

Lucy donned her go-to grin, tipping the front end of her fedora upwards. "Sounds fine to me. I find it mildly entertaining to rumble through pony's things."

Everyone turned their sights to her, eyes widened with perplexing surprise. Lucy ears flattened in a nervous display. "Uh, not that I've done that with any of you..."

Adam continued, despite her remark on the matter, "Right... anyway, we'll have to work fairly quickly. With any luck, we can piece this whole thing together. And maybe, just maybe, we can figure out the secrets Ranger has."

Thatch ran with every ounce of strength he could divert to his legs. He had been running for minutes in a full-on sprint. Every muscled burned, crying out for him to stop. But as the searing crawled up his legs, and digging into his chest he did not slow. He couldn't slow.

Behind him, by twenty feet was the predator. In its smooth run the beast could keep a steady momentum -- not burdened by the crippling weakness of fatigue. Steam rolled through the halls of the Darkmine, hiding turns and other hallways in the mists. Thatch was dashing blindly. Whatever came at him could only be seen once it came within a few feet.

Catching a glimpse of the corner of a hallway, he leaned himself to the right, veering hard down another corridor. The hunter machine found this to be no challenge -- pouncing agiley at the wall leading to the next hallway, it bounded off it to the ground, returning to the same powerful pace.

By now, those who had followed Thatch had grown tired. Feeling the horrendous fire of tiredness melt away their energy. He needed to keep moving, as long as he made it to the level's control room there was hope. Be it small, it was a more than enough.

The speed of a soldier following Thatch began to lag. Moment after moment, the soldier grew closer to the creature. The soldier's breath wheezed, gasping when he could for extra oxygen. No such air could be received under the muffling mask upon his face.

When the predator came within a few steps distance, it leaped in the air, seeming to glide in the hot churning plumes from the pipes. Like a flash of bright lightning, its tail circled through the air, the sharp polished barbs at the end flashing in the red emergency lights. Then, the sharp shockwave of a booming crack blasted through the corridor.

Briefly glancing back at the three ponies still running for dear life, he saw a small cloud of velvet mist spritz out of the back of the soldier's neck. A clear slice ran across the rest of the poor pony's neck, so finely cut that no distortions were made along his neck, now severed from the soldier's head.

Both soldier and head tumbled under the predator, which merely ran over the corpse, retaining a honed fix on the three ponies it hunted. One soldier, a unicorn mare, undid the flap of a pistol holster on her leg -- swiftly popping a few blind shots at the predator. The bullets whizzed and sparked against the sturdy plates armoring the monster. Not leaving so much as a dent in the plating.

Thatch could see an oval-shaped shadow take form at the end of the hall. Between the surly curls of the mine’s steam the body of a heavy dark iron door took form. It was the control room, and the door was slightly ajar.

Through the beads of sweat trickling down his face, and the aching sensation of furious fire roasting his legs, a smile appeared. The predator gained speed, the pistons on its legs metallically bellowing, and hissing as its bursts of speed became stronger.

The mare unloaded three more shots at the predator, hitting one of its eyes. For the first time, the creature flinched, drawing its gaining speed to a stop. The distance between them and the mechanical monster expanded. Ten feet... fifteen feet... twenty feet...

Thatch called at the top of his voice, "Hurry! Now’s our chance!"

The three ponies approached the door. Instantly, the three took hold of the crack in the doorway, and opened it fully for their bodies to squeeze through. The hinges supporting the gargantuan bulk of an entrance shrieked throughout the hallway -- carrying its grinding tune to the predator.

The two pointy metal ears of the predator swiveled in the sound's direction. Shaking its head, the machine once more returned its focus on the three ponies, now one at a time squeezing through the door.

Thatch stood outside, allowing the first soldier to go inside. The predator was within twenty feet of them. After the first went in, the second wiggled her way in. The predator was within fifteen feet of them.

Thatch's heart thumped maliciously against his ribcage, ready to lunge out of him at any second. When the second soldier had made it through, Thatch stuffed himself through the crack in the door.

His head and front legs had made it through easily, but his battle-saddle, as bulky as it was, got caught on the outside. Rushing to his aid the unicorn mare raced to the strap running along Thatch's stomach. Pointing her horn at it, she closed her eyes, directing the flow of magic to her the tip.

The predator was within ten feet. The sparking energy of her magic building into a tiny ball.

The predator was within five feet.

Releasing the collective might of the magic manifested in her horn, the buckle of the strap exploded in a violet sparks as the first soldier pulled Thatch through the door. Pouncing at the center of the control entrance, the predator's opened claws sank into the metal -- shrilly crying the cringe inducing sound that only metal scraping upon metal could make.

Both the mare, and the other soldier leapt up onto their hind legs, pressing their fore hooves on the door. With the hinges’ shriek blaring their ear bleeding creak, the door shut. Sounding off the heavy bolted lock clicking, at last sealing the beast outside.

Thatch lay in on his stomach, legs sprawled out in all directions. Rolling over onto his back he stared up at the ceiling, listening to the predator frantically pound and scratch at the door.

The control room was small, and narrow. A sea of multi-colored buttons filling the entire panel that span the length of the left wall. Above the dim flashing nobs a few black and white square television screens, no larger than a ponies head, were spread over the controls. All filled with the same bleak words: Please Stand By.

In two of the five seats sitting at the controls, two pale legion soldiers lay back, noses craning to the ceiling whilst fresh blood oozed from deep lacerations carved inside their lower necks. Their eyes were still opened, holding the same look of horror they had just before the were killed.

Another operator rested against the back corner of the room. A pistol at his side, with the bodies of two Darkminers littered with bullet holes in their heads and chests. The miners were toting freshly sharpened daggers, fastened to their forelegs.

The smell of blood lingered in the air -- the miner's blood especially pungent, like rotting meat infused with spoiled soggy cabbage. Getting up onto his hooves, Thatch took a brief scan of the room. The moment the odor reached his nose the immediate reflex to shield his snout kicked in.

His eyes had tears pooling in their corners, as he gagged firmly. The soldiers who had followed him had no such problem with the smell. Their masks filtered whatever scent would naturally provoke such a reaction.

Walking to the control panel, the bodies didn't seem to bother the soldiers. "Sir, we need to get to work." The mare said, "You know the security codes, and the longer we wait more lives are lost."

Thatch dropped his hoof, scrunching the bridge of snout as the rancid sourness crept up both nostrils.

Nodding at the soldier, he blinked, releasing the pooling tears down his cheeks. "Right... let's get to work..."

The mare pushed one of the deceased control operators out of his seat, as did the other soldier. Thatch took a chair not occupied by a dead body, and snorting out the fume's stench he started to tap away at the console buttons in the center of the panel.

The clicking and clacking of Thatch's brisk typing echoed over the thrumming beats of the predator's efforts to get inside. "There aren't many radios in the mines, but this way I can send an S.O.S. out to those on the surface."

"Can you alert them of what's happened down here?" The mare asked.

Thatch's head rocked unsurely while he continued plugging in commands. "Briefly, though not much can go through, it'll come out mostly as morse code. Our best chance of contacting them effectively in this way is to tell them to help, and to bring enough firepower down here to kill those damn machines."

The other soldier sitting by the mare let out a whoop, "Hoo-rah, sir!"

Pressing a green blinking button near the top of the panel, Thatch lay back in his seat, letting out a deep relaxing sigh, "Hopefully that went through to those commanding the surface troops. They've got men monitoring incoming messages, but its been a good while since morse code has been used."

The mare rest a hoof gently on the control panel, looking at the still image plastered on all of the screens. "At least they'll know, sir."

"Let's hope so." Thatch remarked. "Let's hope so..."

With a single clack all of the screens went dark. Thatch stiffened his back, rising upright. Leaning over the flashing buttons he stared at the nearest screen to him. The mare rapidly glanced at each monitor, as her words became saturated in heavy frightened ventilation.

"What’s happening?! Did the power go out?"

Thatch's tone was low, twinged with hushed curiosity, "No... no it didn’t."

An electric bark excited the atmosphere in a buzzing blaze of ecstatic energy. The screens hummed to life, all filling with the frozen picture of the Warden's face, captured in a dark green filter.

Three bars of horizontal static slowly rose over the image, as the crackling audio of the Warden's voice played on the speakers. "Clever, pony. Clever. Message harder to find by mine when sent this way. Much harder... much harder, yes."

Thatch's blood went cold, as the entrance of the Wardened caused his pupils to dilate.

The Warden chuckled, eventually raising his laughter to full insane crackle, "Surface Legion try hard to live! Too hard, too hard! Little to do, no time. Predators will rise -- the mine will rise!!"

Thatch maintained a stark posture, gradually rising out of his seat. Without diverting his gaze from the screen, he spoke softly, "Why would you do this to us? After all we've done together. Do you even have the decency to at least give me an answer?"

The Warden was silent, for a moment. Dubious to respond too quickly to the Legion officer. "...The mine is strong. The surface Legion abuse us. Use us. Like slaves. We are not slaves. Surface is weak, the weak are slaves. The mine strong. Those dwelling within, are masters. Not slaves!"

Gritting his teeth, Thatch growled under his revving voice, "You made a grave mistake doing this."

The Warden's tone seemed playful, and uncaring for the threat Thatch made. "Mmmm, no... no... No mistake. Victory."

In fury of the predator's swipes, and tackles ringing throughout the room, provided a mortifying ensemble to the chief miner's speech. "You will not leave alive. Hear predator. It feeds... wait for it to feed. Hear its hunger."

A blissful purr rolled off of the Warden's words, "Oh ho ho ho! No time for you... no time... hehehe!"

At the end of the Warden's laugh, the screens snapped off -- returning to their standard black and white image. Thatch loosed the the bite he had, and fell back into his chair. At his side, and dangling off of the seat all of the Legion captain's limbs swayed limply.

He sat stunned at what the Warden said. The mare sitting at the panel had nothing to say on the matter, as was the same for the other soldier. For all they knew, the Warden caught their message, foreseeing someone might signal for help. Now nothing could be done.

The predator's strikes on the metal door were more clearly tolling through the room. Hammering the malicious clatter into the ears of those trapped inside.

Staring blankly at the flashing buttons of the control panel, Thatch's focus on the lights became blurred. The fierce freezing that chilled his blood suffused further though every vein -- creeping into the inner fibers of his being. The unknown tortured him as hope for aid to arrive was snatch away by the Warden.

Adam and Neo walked into their room, Adam stepping with a slight giddy hop. "I've been a little eager to see what the recordings I found are. I just hope they're not the dramatic retellings of the officer and his a bad patrol that morning."

Neo added contentedly, "I remember Flipper doing that often in the archives. Heh, the way he'd put on his serious voice when he did it too made him sound like a melodramatic radio star, sobbing into the terminal's speaker."

Coming to the center of the room, Adam sat his haunches down, and drew the screen of the Pipbuck to his face. "Maybe that won't be the case with this. And by all that is good in the world, let's pray it's not."

Neo blurted out in a half suppressed snicker, "It probably is."

Adam pulled a disturbed grimace. "If it is, I might puke."

"We'll have to listen to it all, though. He could mention something actually important."

Sighing, Adam shook his head. "Oh Celestia..."

The electronic sound of knobs along the bottom of the Adam's Pipbuck screen clicked away. Cycling through the various different categories of applications presented on the device, he found the radio and recordings section. On the left a whole vertical list of audio samples were lined up, stacking on one another during their travels.

At the bottom of the extensive collection, was a single recording, holding within it several smaller array of sound samples. Selecting it, Adam hesitated to press the play button.

Adam gulped, "Alright, here it goes..."

With a gentle tap of the play button, the first of the bunch played:

A colt was speaking, his register low and muffled in a sheepish mumble, "Is... is it working? Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Mom? Dad? It's me... I... I made it out. Or, I think I did... The books that dad showed me, the lessons I was taught, it all made the world seem so sunny. But it's only dark out here..."

He continued, "I'm waiting by an this weird thing... It's like a building, I think... Aren't buildings supposed to be pretty? This one looks old, and it's dark inside. While I'm sitting out here I think I can see something inside, watching me. I don't know if there is, and I'm not sure if I should check... Mom, dad... where are you?"

A delightful airy click ended the audio file. Neo scratched the top of his mane, gazing at the screen of Adam's Pipbuck. "I thought you said this belonged to an officer?"

Adam's head tilted, while he too rubbed his mane pondering what they had heard. "I thought so too. When I found it the audio files were stored in a Stable-Tech recorder. Usually someone would store Pipbuck data on it, and I did find Pipbuck equipment in the room..."

"You think it might be information carried over from someone who had their Pipbuck information stored on it? Maybe there's more ponies, each who had Pipbucks. Who knows, maybe there's a dozen Pipbucks on there."

"Let's hope that isn't the case," Adam said, "otherwise we'll be here for awhile."

Adam selected the next audio log, and played it. Like before, the colt from the last recording spoke. "I've been here for a little while now... I'm not sure how long really. I should probably check my calendar on the Pipbuck. But I haven't bothered doing anything else on it. There's no one out here... and I can't see anything in the distance. Mom, dad, when I escaped I ran and ran, without looking back. I'm not sure if that was a mistake, or the right choice... I wish you were here to tell me... You both said you'd be out here, trying to find me. Where are you? Where is everyone?"

Choosing the next log, Adam played it. "I found some food in this place. I'm not sure what kind of building it was, pretty or not. I made a friend though, while I'm waiting. I don't know his name, and he won't give me one... at least, I think he's a he... I don't know, but he's pretty funny. He told me not to worry -- that everything will be alright if I listen to him. I feel... happy around him. Everything out here has been so scary, but not him. I can't wait for you to meet him mom! You'll like him. Dad might think he's too silly... I'm still here, though... waiting for you..."

Faintly in the background, the distinct grading noise of shifting earth rustled. The colt went quiet for a second. "Mom? Dad?"

The audio file cut off.

No sooner had the last ended, Adam began the next. The speaker sounded distant, like he was handling the Pipbuck from a few feet away. Whilst the muffled clatter of scratching and scraping over the microphone persisted.

The childish voice of the colt was replaced with the crude gruff register of an older, more vulgar stallion.

"Damn thing... ain't nothin' useful on this piece of crap!"

A mare spoke out in the background, shrieking in a high, deafening pitch, "Are ya' done messin' with that damn thing yet? I haven't eaten in days, and that kid is nice an' plump -- ready fer t’ ol’ spit!"

"Shut it, bitch! I'm workin' here! We get some good tech off this, we can give it t' one of those gangs outside of Ironstead. They'll pay a pretty cap for this, but only if YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"But I'm starving! Can I jus' have a leg? The kid will still be alive... ripe, tender, and juicy. So you can have some fresh too!"

"We ain't eatin' no one until I'm done! You touch him, and I'll beat your fuckin' head in, ya hear me ya’ ghastly wrench!?"

Grousing under her breath, the mare's voice grew softer, like she was walking away from the Pipbuck. "Fine, ya' bastard. But if I die of hunger it'll be your doin'!"

"Dumb whore," the raider muttered, "let's see... ah fuck, there's a password on this thing..."

A callous chuckle bubbled from the speaker, "Well, it's a good thing we didn't kill the kid yet. I guess he's still worth somethin' after all."

With a crackle and a click, the next one played automatically. The male raider growled, as the feeble whimpers of the colt fluttered in the background. "I'm gonna' ask ya' once, an' only once ya' little shit: what's the code to this thing?"

"W-what are you going to do with me?"

The mare crackled like a mad hyena, reveling in the pain of its prey. "We're gonna' eat ya! That’s what!"

"Shut it, ya' bitch!"

The mare's laughter was still constant as the male raider continued, "If ya' don't talk, we'll eat ya'. One piece at a time. An' the best part? Ya' get to watch us enjoy every little piece of you, so long as ya’ keep that password locked up in your head."

"Pl-Please don’t eat me! Help! Help! Somepony, please!”

“Shut the fuck up! Talk or I hack off your leg!”

“T-The password is Vladimir... named after one of the authors of my favorite books..."

"I don't give two shits who the fuck you idolize! We're still gonna have our way with you!"

The mare's laughter gradually diminished. A group of far away voices shouted out to the raiders. The raider mare's speech quickly became embezzled in a panic-stricken shudder, as she pleaded to her partner, "We need t' get out of here! It's the Ironhoof Legion!"

"Shit! Quick, grab the kid, get-"

Silence.

The log lasted for a few more seconds, the low clacking of static lasting until it finished.

Adam appeared wide-eyed, and frozen at the mentioned password. In a whisper, he breathed it between his lips, "Vladimir?"

"It was the Ironhoof Legion that arrived -- do you think Vladimir was in power at the time?" Neo wondered.

"Let's... Let's just see what else happens before we draw any conclusions."

Cycling through the next few files yielded no such information. File after file was corrupted. Playing each one they selected, whatever thoughts of the colt, or what happened to him were lost in an obscuring blur of stagnant noise.

What seemed like a fruitless venture through the files Adam had downloads, one after the seventh failed log held something of interest. Standardly pressing the play button, just as Adam did with the others, the entire hud read-out of his Pipbuck vanished. Onscreen, the image of a stallion, no older than Adam sat in an army tent.

The entrance flaps were swaying calmly behind him, while he stared headlong at the two viewers watching him. The hues of his short coat, eyes, and long straight mane draping over one side of his face, was trapped beneath the orange colored filter of Adam's Pipbuck.

"It's been a while since I've made a log. I'm excited to say a lot's happened since the last one." He tried to hide his smile behind the lengthy mane. "The captain is promoting me. I'll soon be working as his master sergeant. We've done a lot for this province..."

Like the dying light of the evening, the beaming joy was slowly sapped from him. "Wouldn't mom and dad have been proud... Since I joined, our little mercenary group has turned into a full-fledged organization, spread out across the entire region. I'm doing just as you taught me pop. I'm fixing things, and hopefully I'll leave a big enough impact to make the world a better place."

Upon the conclusion of the video file, Neo's eyes went large, as he gaped at the now dark Pipbuck screen. "This belonged to Vladimir..."

Neo didn't even need to look at Adam to know he had the same expression. "I can't believe it... I mean, I knew it belonged to someone of a higher rank, but to the Legion's leader?"

As the radio hud for Adam's Pipbuck returned Neo reluctantly pointed at the next file. "What about the next one? Maybe there's something here about Iron Hammer."

Adam glanced at his brother, and nodded, "Right."

The following log started just as the last had begun. The screen dimmed, and a video played. Vladimir's appearance had changed, the long parted mane was thicker, and more slick. Upon his torso a thick metal breastplate made up the barding he wore.

His tone had hardened from years of rigorous life in the wastes. The child who first felt alone and scared was gone. Not a shadow, nor aura of that colt remained.

He stared at the screen, with eyes unblinking, "It's hard to imagine, that our province’s capital, after so many years, is finally being reconstructed. Our original intent was to wipe out the lower city, and claim the entire area as our own. Sadly, that plan was abandoned some time ago. After thorough investigating we've found that there are simply too many ghouls, and a devastating amount of taint infesting the ground level."

"However," he continued sternly, "the tops of the hundreds of skyscrapers are unaffected -- as are most of the upper floors of some of the larger structures. As such, we've redirected our efforts to carve our new capital on the tops of the edifice of buildings that was once our province's greatest city."

"We've learned so much, and our new nation will be the only glorious beacon of hope throughout Equestria. Mother, father. We found ancient plans for repurposing the soil. All of it, with these Sun gems. If you’re still alive, and are indeed listening to my voice, know this: Our ancestors failed the province. But where they did, we shall not. History only repeats itself when one does not consider to look back. I have witnessed their mistakes, and I do not intend to fail."

Sighing, Vladimir shook his head and gazed off to the side, "Despite what I’ve said, not all has been well. I've had some trouble, as of recent... the more my partner aids me in rebuilding the old world the more I have headaches. At the moment they are minor, a little irritating, at the worst. I've tried a great deal of things to quell the pain. Potions, herbs, and even raw magic. None seem to help. That was until I took a sip of wine I had found in an old mall outside of the city. With even the tiniest sup from the sweet liquid the pain lifted. However, my consultant... I don't see him when... n-nevermind..."

"I found two scientists, from stable 142, who are helping us make the soil pure again. And, with time, I believe they can convert this hellish land into a paradise."

A mare's bodiless delightfully called to him off screen, "Vladimir! You should see the result we found! It's astounding!"

The log concluded.

Another played, a video, the same as the last few. Vladimir was slouching in a chair with closed eyes, gently massaging the temples of his head. Revving his throat in a seething snarl, he snorted, "Damn them! Damn all of them!"

Opening his eyes, he shouted at the screen, "The workers who are helping us rebuild the city. They're complaining about the temporary living conditions we have them in. They're also saying that the guards bully them, and steal behind their backs. Many have already died building the bridges across the buildings. What did they expect? A vacation? And now when they want to leave, we tell them no. They committed themselves to this project -- they were inspired to live in paradise! Worse of all, the pegasi are the most rambunctious lot."

He put on a squeaky unintelligent voice while impersonation of the workers, "We're tired, we're sad, we're hungry, the guards are violent!"

"Don't they understand that what they're doing they're doing for the future? For all of equine kind? To save our species? If this goes on much longer, I'd much rather execute the lot of them, and find someone more cooperative, than never have this dream come true simply because they think it isn't fair... My advisor tells me I should just purge the outer towns, where ex-enclave ponies live. Maybe that'll motivate them..."

"But, I couldn't do that, could I?"

Vladimir stared at the two brothers from behind the screen, like he was listening to a silent force. "You've never been wrong, for sure. But to murder all of those pegasi..."

Vladimir snapped, "I know what I said!"

His ears flattened in a shocked recoil, "No... no... I..."

"Slaves? A purge?"

A long vertical strip of static manifested in the center of the image. Gradually it widened, consuming the whole screen in the bustling particles. Adam tapped the edge of his Pipbuck, frowning at the disturbance suddenly interrupt the video.

"Ah, c'mon!" Adam shouted now smacking the Pipbuck. "Dang it, most of theses files are corrupted..."

"Who do you think that mare was?" Neo thought aloud. "She sounded a lot like..."

Adam nimbly interjected, "No, it couldn't be her. She'd never work for Vladimir."

Neo looked at him, motioning his head to the Pipbuck, "What other ponies have come out of the stable? We already know mom was out here in the world before. And dad was out her long after she came back."

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Adam replied, deeply looking into the blizzard of orange and white pixels wash over the video, "he's a nutcase, and she wouldn't go along with anything a he’d have to say or stand for...

Facing his brother, Adam mewled, “W-Would she?"

"We'll have to ask her later," Neo pushed down Adam's Pipbuck turning his face to the door, "for now we'll need to keep investigating. Maybe Lucy, and the others found something. And hey, we can even stop by the hangar on the way up there."

As Adam's hoof met the floor, the hazy fog of static peeled back, revealing the list of download files. Below the one they had listened to, a single file was left. When the Pipbuck had been removed from Adam's sight the image on-screen switched to the health chart marking the condition of his body.

Adam hesitated, trailing his eyes to the floor in thought. After a moment, he returned to his brother, "Okay... brother. Hopefully it was more than what I had here."

Vladimir sat in the comfort of a wheelchair, looking out at the airship hangar from a porthole window in the medical ward. His translucent reflection in the glass stared back at him, as he silently watched the ponies in the wide space hurry back and forth between the flying craft.

Bright icey blue sparks luminously ejected out in all directions, while welders on top of the an aerial troop carrier forged a piece of sheet steel to a space behind the cockpit window. How busy they all were, each had something to do, somewhere to go.

Pushing carts with hoses attached to fuel tanks, or unicorns levitating engine parts to the lower rotary flaps of the vehicle. From the moment he started watching them, to the current instant they scurried on. Always in a hurry -- always working.

A beige unicorn mare, wearing a clean white nurse's uniform pushed open the door at the far end of the medical ward. In the delicate light of her green aura, a clipboard lowly hovered. The mare's eyes were fixed on the information it had written on it, even as she walked down the middle of the room to the other side.

When she had come close to where Vladimir was sitting, she took her eyes off of the clipboard, noticing Vladimir out of the corner of her vision. Like a sudden static shock, her heart jolted as she gasped at him. Rushing to his side, she lightly held a hoof over his shoulder, not touching him in fear of his current state.

"Are you alright, sir? I... I didn't think you would be up so soon!"

Vladimir had dark, tired sags shingling underneath his eyes. In spite of the gloom, he contained a certain degree of content clinging to his words. "No, it's quite alright, m'dame."

He smiled weakly, not removing his gaze from the window. "I thought I'd just shuffle on over here, find a chair, and watch the ponies down there."

The mare placed a hoof over her pounding heart, sighing with great relief, "You gave me quite a shock! I'm glad to hear you woke up with no problems."

"No at all, m'dame."

Floating the clipboard to her chest, she looked down at the papers, flipping the top one up, "Now that you're awake, I'm going to have to go get some medications, to help lessen any side effects from the potions we gave your earlier. Could you stay here while I fetch them? I'll only be a moment."

Vladimir shook his head twice, redirecting his focus to a smaller airship in the hangar. "No, please, take your time. I'm rather enjoying myself here, and I don't believe I'll be moving anytime soon."

The nurse gave him a peppy little nod, and hurried back the way she came. Vladimir smiled at the the smaller airship, driving his focus deeper into it.

It was colored in a glossy midnight shade, coating it across the long tail boom, and melding with the silver stripes at the box-like center. As most ships had, turbine engines jutted out from stabilizer wings fastened at the top were positioned horizontally. A small, but sleek ship -- sporting one single machine gun perched on rotary arms below the pointed nose of the cockpit.

A whisper slithered its way into his ear, shimmying around like a contorting snake making itself at home. Vladimir’s reflection in the window blinked at him, speaking as though he were on the other side of the glass.

The reflection stammered, "I... I don't understand..."

Vladimir ran his hooves on the smooth varnish of the wheelchair’s oak armrests. Bringing both shoulders to his ears. He melted in the chair, smiling, and purring -- reveling in the bliss. In the enjoyment, the sudden movement in the chair’s foam cushion creaked, as fur rubbed on vinyl.

“This is so wonderful!” Vladimir chuckled, feeling a warm tingle shimmy up his back. “Oh, my! I could get used to this!”

Vladimir’s reflection scowled, as he pounded a hoof on the window, trapped. “That’s my body!”

The Legion emperor didn’t seemed stirred by what the reflection had to say. Sitting upright, he chortled uncontrollably. Then, tracing the tip of his hoof over the vibrations of his neck, Vladimir sighed still in mid-laugh, "Wonderful feeling it is, you know? To feel one's own laughter? You can laugh too, Little Red, but you'll find they the same sensation doesn't seem quite so... authentic."

"...What do you plan to do, now that you're in control? Do you think I'm going to allow you to-"

"And what exactly do you plan to do?" Vladimir spat in retaliation. "I'm in control of your body, not the other way around. Unfortunately for you, I won't suffer the same side effects you had with me."

Vladimir's face put on a stretched grin, peering at the airship again. "As for what I plan to do... well, I plan to actually achieve something in my spare time, Little Red. Not like you had any other ambitions anyway."

Another pony came stepping through the door at the end of the room. This time, a mare stained in plate-sized grease smudges blotched over her light orange coat. Like an electric wire had just discharged a hundred volts through her, every length of the mare's white mane was poofed into an afro of stiff static fluff.

She blinked her emerald eyes, as she stepped through the doorway nearly coughing out her lungs. On the mare's flank was a single golden cog, bearing a tiny twinkle at the corner of one of the topmost teeth jutting out to the right.

In the wake of her horrid swerving, brought on by the coughs leaping eagerly out of her throat, the plethora of holstered tools she bore jingled about.

Lunging at the nearest bed to her, she caught herself on the frame, whipping out the last of the remaining coughs drying out the walls of her throat. Just as the mare had fallen, she stood up. Cleared her throat, and rocked her jaw sore from the constant coughing.

Placing both eyes to a level degree, she spotted Vladimir by the window, keenly eyeing the work being done in the hangar. Trotting down the middle of the room, she approached him -- also gazing at the open hangar and the ponies frantically working below.

"Neat, huh?"

Vladimir's laugh line slowly faded, as he looked up at the mare absently smiling at the workers inside. "Excuse me? Who are you?"

The mare looked at him with opened eyes -- still retaining the uncomfortably pleasant expression. "What, me?"

"Well," the mare revved stiffening her posture, "I'm Golden Cog! Chief engineer on the troop carrier gunship!"

Vladimir's smirk returned, as he leaned forward, "Oh, really now?"

She seemed unaware of his imposing advance, "Yep! Got to fly here and everything."

"If you're the chief engineer, you can answer a few questions for me, correct?"

She nodded, "I sure could. I just happened to notice you looking down there when I was coming in to get looked at by the nurse."

Placing a hoof to the side of her mouth, she tilted toward him whispering, "Getting shocked and all isn't too good for your health, y' know?"

Recoiling herself back, she looked out the window again, speaking contently, "It's a fine job, I'd say. None other like it in the world."

"Yes, well," Vladimir interrupted quietly, "I do find those machines rather fascinating. In fact, one of the smaller ones interests me the most... might you be so kind as to offer a poor ignorant mind some insight into the fine nature of your craft?"

Using a hoof to shield her brow, she pressed her snout on the cold glass -- eyes darting across the hangar in search of the specific ship. "Mind pointing it out? There's a quite a few in there that match that description."

Vladimir lifted a weary hoof, and pointed to the smaller ship he had been eyeing earlier. "That one... the one off to the side."

Golden Cog pulled herself away, and scoffed, "Well, that's a curious favorite... what's drawing you to that one?"

"No reason in particular." Vladimir added with a shake of his head. "It simply resonates with me, and I would love to know more about it."

Facing Vladimir, Golden Cog motioned her nose to his horn, "It's strange that you should like that one. It's one of those magically operated ones."

Turning her sights to the ship, she continued, "The ship traditionally runs on pegasi power. But during the war more pilots were needed, and there were plenty of unicorns, so proto-type ships like that were commissioned."

An airy chuckle escaped through her lips, "The only downside is, they never worked out a proper magic converter. So, to even get the thing off of the ground you'd need to be A: a prodigy in magic, or B: have a team of twelve unicorns. Which, I don't even think could fit in that thing to be honest."

"Interesting," Vladimir muttered trailing his eyes back to the hangar, "very interesting..."

Glancing at the door, Golden Cog lightly stomped the ground with one hoof, whinnying, "Where is that nurse? I might be dying internally or something!"

"You could go fetch her," Vladimir suggested jerking his horn to the door, "she went out over there, if you're curious."

"I'll do just that, thanks pal."

Golden Cog trotted to the furthest set of doors, leaving Vladimir to his own porthole view of the airships. The reflection’s voice whimpered, "You're not going to..."

"I am, Little Red." Vladimir lay back in his chair. "Oh, you can be sure I am."

The hangar had a balmy heat lingering about in the dense air, like the inside of a smelting furnace. In the high steel rafters, supporting the concrete ceiling, a railway system of cranes moved about, loading with their massive lifting chains engines, wings, or cockpits to aerial gunships below. With its enclosed space, and dark stone walls a meek dim light kept the area aglow.

The feeble magenta, purple, and blue flaming sparkles from arc-welders flashed, offering the only means of true light. From the welders perched upon the tops of the vehicles, tiny rising plumes of hot smoke ascended, giving the atmosphere a bitter, buzzing taste.

Between the bulky airships scattered around the hangar, a single cleared pathway had been made for ponies to cross from one side of the room to the next. Being the only free path, regularly ponies saddled to carts filled to the top with scrap trotted about, cluttering the way like a busy highway.

Neo and Adam navigated through the hustling ponies. Often scrunching the bridge of their snouts when the burning odor of fresh melted metal drifted more pungently in the air. Jostling aside workers, bumping and tripping over one another the brothers tore onwards to the other side of the hangar.

Coming to the center of the room, after skillfully steering through the bodies, Adam pulled off to a clear space at the side of the busy path. His hooves felt little claws dig deeply into him, as a dull soreness from the constant collisions faintly throbbed over his ribs. He panted a few times -- drooping his head with a limp tongue dangling.

Neo took a few more moments to catch up to him, feeling the same sharp pains sink their teeth into his fetlocks. "It's a little more busy than we thought, huh?"

Nodding, Adam produced a wheezed chuckle escaping amongst the heavy breathing, "Just a little."

Neo rose his head to the nearest gunship, "Well, here's one you could look at... at least, without being pulled in by the tide."

The muscles constricting Adam's spine tightened, as he faced the ship. His eyes grew wide, and his jaw dropped in gaping awe. "Whoa..."

The vehicle rested ten feet from them, with no mechanics operating or frantically repairing it. Adam's eyes smoothly followed the round corners of it's box-like body, tailing to the stout wings jutting from the top, supporting both rotary jet engines. Over the bleak steely grey hue of the machine, a crimson paint marked in thin films of swirling strokes coated most of the space around the cockpit.

It was like a titan -- hulking and mighty in build. Adam took two slow steps toward it, three tiny tinkles forming in his eyes as lost himself in the machine's presence. Seeing his brother enjoy himself ample warmth flowing up his spine, bringing a smile to his face.

"How fast do you think it goes?" Adam asked.

Neo walked to Adam's side, laying his focus on the broadside of the gunship. "I wish I could say. I'm not exactly an expert."

Adam laughed, "Neither am I. Though, I wouldn't mind getting in the business."

Suppressing his laughter to the bottom of his chest, Adam included, "Still, I'd like to see how fast this thing would go."

"I think you'd be thoroughly disappointed." A gravely mare's voices spoke from behind them.

Quickly spinning around, they saw Golden Cog standing idly -- brushing full lengths of her top mane with a brush strapped to her right hoof. She held a mild smirk, motioning the tip of her snout to the gunship. "This here is a base-line personnel carrier. Found it outside an airfield near Silvermane."

"The beast flies at the lowest speed of any ship we have here," she added hobbling with one hoof next to Adam, "it's so slow, you'd do better racing a turtle with a helicopter propeller."

Neo uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck, "I wouldn't have guessed, especially with engines as large as that."

"It's a common misconception." Golden Cog answered with a bouncing nod.

Adam smiled dearly, feeling the tugging urge to hug her pull his body forward. "It's nice to see you again."

Her expression widened, pinching her eyes closed and exposing her teeth in a beaming grin. "I can same the same! We'll have to catch up sometime. Unless you plan to stay and talk now."

Neo shook his head, "I'd like to stay and catch up, but we're currently holding an investigation."

Golden Cog's brightness subsided, converting to a placid, puzzled stare. "An investigation? What happened?"

"A stallion who was traveling with us had some information," Neo answered, "we're trying to find out what it was until he gets well."

She glanced sideways at the luminous white glow, filtering through the thick porthole windows near the ceiling at the back hangar wall, "There's a red guy up there in the medical ward, is that your buck?"

Adam gave an airy response, "Yeah, how did you know?"

Throwing her head back to the medical ward windows, she tittered, "Just got back from the ward myself. I had a nasty sock working on the ship you’re looking at now. I didn’t see an opened fuse while I painting. Not the brightest move, I’d say. Luckily, turns out I'm fine, just a frizzed mane."

Neo placed his eyes on the windows, asking while he looked, "How is he doing?"

She shrugged, one shoulder after the other, "He looks fine, but then again he might be one of those ponies who can take the pain."

Adam's voice quavered, like he had heard someone had just died, "He’s awake? So early?"

"Yeah, awake and kicking." Golden Cog paused, directing her gaze to the floor, pondering what she had just said.

She wagged a hoof, reiterating her response, "No, I take that back. He might not be kicking, but he's awake for sure."

Urgency stuck Adam's words, "Brother, we need to tell Lucy and Ally. If he's awake we he might be ready to tell us everything."

"Right," Neo responded in a confirming nod.

"I'm sorry, but we'll need to catch up later." Neo said to Golden Cog.

Golden Cog stepped to the side, giving the brothers a way into the current of hurried mechanics. "You guys take off, I'm not going anywhere."

Neo smiled at her, lifting a hoof in preparation to run, "Don't worry we'll try to get back later."

"It was nice seeing you again!" Adam chimed standing beside his brother.

Leaping into a small gap between the ponies, the two brothers vanished in the river of congested bodies. Golden Cog craned her nose up to the windows, scratching the top of her oily mane. "I hope those boys find what they're looking for."

She turned to the gunship they were observing before, noting the unfinished strokes of paint, jaggedly marking the borders of the crimson coat where the bland dark steel met with the red. "The last thing I want is to do is shock myself again... maybe, maybe not. I really should finish the paint job. Someone's got to do it, right?"

Rolling up the sleeves of her brown jumpsuit, she tighten her stare on the gunship, "Might as well get back to work!"

The lights had gone out in the control room, leaving the screens' ghostly aura as a soul means of illumination. The stallion soldier lay back in one chair, head tilted back as his chest slowly rose and fell. Across the room, sitting on the back wall the mare watched her comrade sleep, listening to his neighing snores.

The screens’ dimness caught the myriad of suspended dust motes, adjusting to the most meager of disturbances.

Thatch sat against the steel door leading out, staring blankly in front of him to the opposing wall. The mine’s shaking subsided, now drawn to a minor tremor slightly nudging the earth. In the distance, far in the deeper regions of the mines sound passed through the walls.

Explosions, gunshots. All vastly distant like the clap of a far off storm. Any efforts the predator had made to get in where halted. No clawing or vicious snarling could be heard. Even the surly hiss of steam pumping through the pipes outside whirred more aloud than the beast.

Thatch took in a breath of the hot humid air, feeling beads of sweat gather on his boiling brow. He gulped once, a tingling droplet from his temple running down his neck. The mare at the back wall looked at him, removing her mask and revealing the beautiful hue of violet shading her eyes.

Her short orange mane was matted down in a bowl shape, under the constrictions of the helmet. "Sir?" She piped up.

The vertebrae in Thatch's stiffened neck popped as he diverted his attention to her. "Yes soldier?"

"How'd you get to be a Captain? If you don't mind me asking."

Thatch took shallow breaths, speaking in between each inhalation, "Where'd this come from?"

She shrugged, "It breaks the silence."

Thatch scoffed, crookedly smiling at her response, "I suppose it does."

Scooting himself upright, Thatch repositioned his damp, sweat-laden uniform sticking to his back’s fur. "I started like you did, I guess. There's not much to say beyond that. I did my duty, same as anyone in our order. Following orders, killing those against us. Showing loyalty."

Thatch turned his attention to the ground, "Being a higher up isn't all it's cut out to be, though. More ponies expect greater things from you. They're always watching, like they're waiting for you to perform for them. Like fillies and colts at a puppet show they want to see you dance, and they know the routine. One slip up, and they’re tossing tomatoes right at you.”

“As a grunt, you're responsibility doesn't weigh quite so hard.” Thatch wiped his brow. “If the grunts misfire, or fail, it ripples on to me. We take the whip, unless we’re the higher-ups watching you.”

His eyebrows lowered, fixing his eyes into a hardened stare, "I've been a soldier fifteen years of my life. Every year growing a little closer to those higher in the food chain."

He looked down at his hooves, silently cursing them like they had committed a crime, "It's all I know how to do now. And you'd do well to understand that getting cozy up at the top isn't heaven. If you want paradise, it'd be easier to put a bullet in your head and go there for yourself."

"I joined a year and a half ago." The mare spoke lowly. "I thought it'd be a more stable life than scavenging in Silvermane."

Despite the dark atmosphere, she let a breathy chuckle laying at the bottom of her stomach out, "Looks like things weren't too stable after all, huh?"

“No,” Thatch brayed, “no it’s not.”

As the hushed thundering of war clashed faintly through the walls, three knocks came at the door. Feeling a sharp icy sting lance through his heart, he dove forward stumbling away from it.

The mare's ears erected, as she stood up cautiously. "Is someone at the door?"

Rapping again, the metallic vibrations stung the air, as Thatch stared headlong at the dark bolted exit, "I don't know what it is."

The next gongs tolled throughout the room, waking the sleeping stallion.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

Shaking his head, the stallion leapt out of the chair staggering forward before recovering his footing. Frantically darting his visor around the area he paused listening to a single knock thunk upon the door.

Haltingly turning his head to the door, he gulped a rough lump stuck in his throat, "What was that?"

"I don't know..." The mare answered quietly, without removing her sight from the door.

"S-Should we check it out?" The stallion stammered.

Thatch felt like his heart was going to leap out of his throat, "There's only one way to find out who it is..."

He gingerly stepped to the thick door handle camouflaged with the shadow and iron. Then, gently laying a hoof on it, he uttered under his breath, "There's only one way to find out..."

Lucy trotted down the hallway, Wester stepping close by, while Ally and Big Lot kept to the back. They came to a room at the end of the hall, with an opened doorway leading in. Inside the small room were cabinets pinned to the walls, topped by leaning stacks of cardboard boxes stuffed with sharp gleaming machine parts.

A sturdy metal desk was positioned at the back wall, surrounded in mounds of assorted junk strewn about the edges and corners. Behind it, a lanky yellow unicorn stallion in a lab coat, scratching the bristles of the stubble wreathing his jaw.

Levitating in the dim green of his horn's magic, he gazed at a circuit board through the lens of a magnifying glass. In the tool's warping glass the stallion's blue eye filled the entire glass to the rim.

Lucy stopped in front of the desk, propping up her leg so she could set it on the desktop. Then, leaning against the it, she tipped her fedora at him. "Howdy."

Her greeting didn't draw him away from the circuit board. She cleared her throat, reiterating the hello more sternly, "Howdy."

Big Lot pouted, stepping up to the desk. Her stature didn't allow her to see over the front edge, and likewise, not directly at the pony working behind it. Regardless, she hopped onto her hind legs pressing both fore hooves on the solid steel.

"Hey!" She announced with a fire in her voice. "Buggy-eyed guy! Listen to her! Or I'll break your nose!"

The stallion blinked, lowering the magnifying glass. Looking to the four gathered in front of the desk a suave growl rolled off of his tongue, "Oh, hello there fillies. What is there something I can do for you sweet dumplings?"

Lucy scowled, "Yeah, you can."

Taking the tracking device from a pocket inside her duster, she put it on the desk. "We're running an investigation. Top stuff. I ran into a security guard on the way to the inspection zone-"

"Inspection zone?" Ally commented with a raised eyebrow.

Lucy glanced at her sideways, shrugging one shoulder, "We’ll talk about what to call the Inspection zone later. That's just what it's called, right?"

Ally shook her head. "I don't think it is, actually."

"Well that's what I'm calling it," Lucy returned to the clerk at the desk, "and I'm standing by it."

Batting his eyes, the stallion had a dopey inane smile adrift in ogling admiration, "You can call it anything you want, babe. I don’t mind? Now, lovely dumpling, what is it can do for you?"

Lucy gagged petting the device, "This thing. I was told you can look at what makes this thing tick, and who's sending signals to it."

Pulling the device toward him from underneath Lucy's hoof, he peered at it, "For you, anything."

"So?" Lucy asked with delay.

He shifted his eyes up to her face, "So what?"

"So," Lucy added, "how long will it take?"

The clerk briefly went back to the device before him, pushed it around and picked it up, thoroughly investing its features. Setting it down, he said, "I can get back to you in... a few hours at the most. I'm fairly skilled at handling Stable-Tech brand equipment."

"Do we come back then, or," Lucy unsurely paused.

“But,” he cooed under heavy breathing, “you can stay for awhile. I don’t mind.”

Lucy’s face went hot, flushing her now rosey cheeks. “What...”

He winked at her, flashing a charming grin, “You know what I mean.”

Ally stepped in, shoving Lucy aside, "It's important we get that information as soon as possible. When, do you think we could come back?”

The stallion stomped his hoof with a snorting hmph, tossing his gaze away from her, “Well, aren’t you the buzzkill... I can have it done within the hour. Two at the most.”

Lucy grumbled behind Ally, “It’s good to know I won’t have to deal with you afterwards.”

The stallion snapped his gaze to her, "Excuse me, what did you say dear? Was it a comment this floozy had to hide away from me?"

Lucy didn't turn to look at him as she replied, "It wasn't anything. Just let us know as soon as the freakin' thing is done."

Wester, pat the back of lucy rough leather duster, “Let’s get out of here. We don’t need to make a scene.”

Lucy growled under her breath, kicking one of the cleaning robots scurrying through the hallway to the side. "That sleazy bastard better not screw this up, I swear!"

Ally lifted an eyebrow at her, "You're still that upset after how that guy acted?"

Shaking her head vigorously, she snapped at Ally, a furnace set ablaze in her words and eyes, "Well, yeah I am! Did you hear what he said to you? He called you a-"

Ally brought a hoof to her mouth, and abruptly interjected with a cough,"Yes, well, I think we can let that slip by."

"Still," Lucy jabbed at the subject, "we're really letting that thing into his hooves? I'd rather trust a ravenous brain-dead zombie with the device than that slick pile of crap!"

Big Lot agilely bounded to Lucy's side, picking up her pace to a trot once she caught up to her. "Can someone tell me what a floozy is?"

Lucy's head reeled back at the Big Lot's remark, "You were a dictator, how do you not know what that is? Haven't you been out here your entire life?"

Big Lot pouted petulantly, "I'm still a kid. I'm not a dictionary, or an esyclope... pedi...ensycloo..."

She let a squeaky grunt out her nostrils trying to find the word resting at the tip of her tongue, "That book thing with stuff in it!"

Lucy brought her face down to her level, drooping her eyelids halfway in a disappointedly crooked frown, "You mean an encyclopedia?"

Big Lot tightened her squint, puffing her rosy little cheeks to double their size, "You think you're soooo smart, huh lady? I swear, if I had a pit I'd push you in it!"

"Ha!" Lucy laughed, "I'm a pegasus, I could just hover right above you!"

Pulling a devilishly long grin, Big Lot muttered, "That's why I'd clip your wings first."

Lucy recoiled her head, gulping at a needly chill prick the nape of her neck. Ally galloped between them, chuckling nervously as a light sweat dabbed her brow, "Please! Please! Stop! Let's not let the whole conversation we had back there ruin our moods!"

Lucy bellowed fuming breath out of her nose. Big Lot's grin shrank to a victorious smirk. Glaring, Lucy stuck her tongue out at the filly.

Gasping, Big Lot returned the gesture. Ally stopped in the middle of the hallway, and slammed a hoof against the steely floor, "Would you two stop it! Both of you are like foals, bickering about absolutely nothing!"

Ally's attention darted between the two of them as she brought her tone to a calming degree, "Listen, let's all just calm down for a moment. Can we do that?"

Lucy diverted her attention to the ground, keeping the maddened expression solid. "Yeah, fine.."

Ally smiled tenderly, "Good... good. How about we clear our minds for a bit? Neo and Adam should be done in a little while, what do you say if I take Big Lot to the mess hall, and find something to eat? You and Wester can look around, get the whole thing off your minds. Does that sound nice to you?"

Lucy sighed, releasing pressure from the anger-filled boiling inside her breast. She advanced a few steps further down the hall, shaking her head clear, "Yeah, I guess your right... I'll head back to our room, chill there for a little while..."

Jerking her head to Wester, she spoke in a low furtive voice, "C'mon Wester."

Flattening her ears, Lucy trotted onward. Wester following in her stride. They went down a flight of stairs, through a long corridor, before veering right at the end of a shorter hall. Wester slowed his pace, catching Lucy's attention.

She looked back at Wester, watching him between the few feet that divided them. The monochromatic white light of the hallway's lighting buzzed overhead. It was like they were staring at complete strangers, casting their view at one another from islands separated by miles of sea.

"Why'd you stop?" Lucy asked.

"Should I go back?" Wester answered. "Make him understand how you feel?"

Wester's words ignited a fizzy tremble running up and down her back. The sensation forced a humorous giggle, "That's real sweet, West. But I think we're all good on settling the score."

"And I'm a big girl now, if I feel like I need to settle the score with him I'll let you know."

An earth pony stallion, donned in the traditional lab coat, glowing cleanly in the bright lights above pushed a cart down the hallway behind Lucy. The load he forced down the hall contained a pile of scrap, amassed high enough, that he couldn't see over the mountain of junk.

The tiny jar-sized wheels buckled and squealed at the overload weighing them down. Lucy faced the oncoming worker, and stepped to the side for him. The stallion grit his teeth, biting as hard as the muscles in his jaw would permit.

He groaned beneath short exasperated puffs, moving forward at the rate of a lumbering pony taking their time climbing a steep hill. Lucy blinked at the worker, pointing at the massive load he bore, "Uh, you need a little help there pal?"

The stallion shook his head, disturbing the sweat thinly collecting on his forehead. "No... I'm good..."

Lucy scratched the mane underneath her fedora, "Where are you even taking that stuff?"

"To our electronics repairman. Some of this stuff needs to be looked over."

"Some?" Lucy cocked her head at the curiously prodigious load.

Wester stepped aside as he came closer to him.

"I-I've got a some stuff that works in here... s-still, it just needs to get inspected."

He stopped right in front of Wester, and collapsed onto his haunches. With a single wipe of the backend of his hoof across the sweat-laden fur of his brow, he coughed, "This would've been really simple if I was unicorn. I'd just levitate all of it."

Lucy stepped to the side of the cart, a tiny grey hoof-held device with a leather strap protruded from the assortment of cluttered electronics. It had a tiny black screen, and a few green lights horizontally lined up along the top.

Dangling the end of her hoof right above it, Lucy looked at the worker, "What's this thing?"

The worker, sprung to his feet at the mention of the device as though it brought new life to him. Venturing around the cart, he picked up the electronic in his hoof. The straps meant to be fastened to the user's foreleg hung loosely undone as he spoke.

A faint wheeze still clutched to his words, "This is an interesting device, one t-that's due for inspection. Though, for the most part I-I think it still works properly."

Wester huddled between the two, looking down at the wrist device the worker held, "What is its primary function? Explain."

"It's a Sun gem detector," the stallion replied, "miners used it way-back-when to find the energy the gems give off. Now we're using it to tell how healthy our own gems are."

The worker flipped a switch on the side, bringing the device to life in a hum of electrical currents flowing through it. "Right now, we've got a 567 health gems here in the facility."

As he had mentioned an aquamarine number of the gems flashed at the top of the screen. "It can even track gems if we need to. It wouldn't of helped the miners much if they couldn't do that, huh?"

He glanced at the number of the screen once more, locking his sights on the rightmost digit. Tightening his fix on the gem counter, he brought the device closer to his face, "Huh..."

Lucy took a step back, "What is it?"

The worker, hummed investigating the screen shoved in front of his face, "There's one more gem here... The last few times we checked the number of gems we had there was 567... now there's 568."

"Looks like you miscounted, pal." Lucy snarked.

"No, we couldn't of," he sat down on the floor again, flicking the small switches and knobs on the side, "we thoroughly checked the number..."

"Here," he purred in deep focus whilst twisting one of the device's knobs, "let's see where it is..."

A charming beep rang clearly from the device. In correspondence to the happy ping, the worker spun himself around, eyes transfixed on the screen. He even started pacing himself down the hallway, leaving Wester and Lucy behind.

Lucy reached a hoof out to him, throwing the side of her muzzle to the cart he was leaving, "Hey! What about this crap!"

Slumping her shoulders, and dropping her hoof, Lucy blew air between her lips, "Fine, leave it all behind..."

Wester approached Lucy's left flank, "What are we going to do Lucky?"

Tossing her eyes to the right, she whinnied, "C'mon, Let's make sure that dolt doesn't hurt himself."

The worker skillfully navigated the pearly halls without so much as sparing a peek at what was ahead of him. Hobbling onward on one leg the pony maneuvered past oncoming project staff, and even stepping over the cleaning robots scooting smoothly over the floor.

Lucy followed the isolated beeps chirping in the halls. She was honed on the sounds, with both ears perfectly erect, receiving each ping the device echoed. Coming to the end of the hall, Lucy turned left going along a familiar hallway.

The doors to the brother's room, and her room came into view. The worker, standing attentively before Adam and Neo’s door, watched the blinking lights at the device’s top.

The beeps diminished with every new note. Vanishing into the memory and echo. Lucy and Wester galloped to the stallion who gawked at the front door unsure of what to do next. Lucy, paused for a moment, leaning her hot rage-fueled face suffused with seething blood to side of the worker's neck.

"Hey, buddy!" She gnashed her teeth, "you just left your cart way back there!"

Wester patted her shoulder, eventually bringing the gesture to a calming message circling her tense muscles. "Lucky, calm yourself."

The stallion blinked three times at the door, "Why here? What's here?"

Lucy pulled herself back, and moved her sights to the brother's door. "Neo and Adam's room?"

The stallion looked at her. "You know this place?"

Lucy lay a hoof to the chilled steel doorframe, "Yeah, some friends of mine are staying in here."

An exuberant burst of gamboling joy caused a smile stretching from ear to ear on the workers face. "Do you mind if I enter?"

Her mouth went agape at the request, as a low overwhelmed hum came out. "Uh... it's not really-"

Reluctantly, the worker pressed the orange button on the doorframe, and leapt through the door. Lucy stuck out a hoof to stop him, only to get jostled out of the way in the wake of the pony's charge in.

"Fine," Lucy snarled recovering herself, "just let yourself in why don't ya'..."

Stepping into the room, she saw the worker scurry over to the left bed, paying especial attention to Adam's saddlebags sitting on the ruffled sheets. Tromping over to him, Lucy scolded, "Hey! Don't go through his things! You creep!"

He had a hoof raised and ready to open the bags when he answered her, "I-I'm sorry, it's just the signal is coming from over here."

The urge to sock the pony in the jaw tugged at Lucy's hoof. "You better back up, before I make you regret coming in here."

"What's going on in here?!" Adam's voice called from the door.

Lucy and Wester both turned their heads in unison to the doorway, "Adam? What are you doing here?"

Neo stepped into the room, "What is he doing here -- what are you doing?!"

Hooking a leg over the worker's shoulder, Lucy reeled the stallion into a headlock, "I was stopping this creep from rummaging through your stuff! That's what we're doing here!"

Neo pointed at the pony Lucy had ensnared, "Why? What is it this guy wants?"

The pony in Lucy's hold whipped himself around, pushing with both hooves on the mare’s ribs in a desperate attempt to get free. "Please," he gasped under her relentless constricting grip on him, "c-can I... c-can I?"

His face turned blue, "Can I-I explain myself?"

Lucy looked at the brothers, unmoved by the pony's pleas. "It's your room fellas."

Adam stepped up, nodding at her. "You can let him go. Let’s hear what he has to say."

Releasing the pony, he fell on his stomach supping air like a fish out of water. When oxygen replenished his lungs he swaying side to side as he stood, hacking out each new word. "T-Thanks..."

Her rubbed the side of his neck, feeling the skin and fur regain their natural shape in the free tingling air. "I'm... I'm sorry for barging in... but I have a good reason."

"I'd like to hear it," Adam commented, "if you'd be willing to share with my brother and I."

Bringing the backend of his hoof to his lips he cleared his throat, and returned, "I have this device, you see."

He lifted his leg presenting the electronic strapped to it. "It detects Sun gems, and I was showing your friends what it does when I picked up a new signal."

Glancing over his shoulder at Adam's saddlebags, he continued, "It lead me here, and according to this device, there's a gem somewhere in those bags."

"That's insane!" Neo remarked jabbing a hoof at him. "We haven't touched a gem, let alone have one!"

The stallion recoiled back, flinching at Neo's advance, "It's what the device says!"

Adam put a hoof to Neo's shoulder, turning his gaze to the bags. "Let's just see what's causing that thing he's wearing to think there's one inside. Then, if there's nothing there, he can apologize and leave."

Peeking through the sliver of one cautiously opened eye, the worker slowly lifted his chin with flattened ears as he talked to Adam. "Does that mean I can look?"

Adam nodded. "You can, but if there's nothing there I want you to leave."

Gulping a coarse lump in his throat, the stallion's speech was weak, "Fair enough."

Coming back to the bags, the worker flipped over the saddle-bag’s flap, and moved the various contents around as he dug through it. Halting the search, a monstrous roar of a ping erupted from the device. Carefully withdrawing himself out of the bag, in the cup of his hoof sat a tiny bundle of leather, no larger than a golf ball.

Neo's spoke his thoughts aloud, "Two Sock's gift?"

Sitting on the floor, the worker unraveled the leather. Then, a bright light, like a blazing star caught freshly from the clear nighttime sky filled the room. A halo surrounded it, charging the entire space with a delicate sweet warmth that lightly brushed Adam’s fur.

Adam ambled toward the gem the worker held, gaping at the gift Two Socks had given them. "It is a Sun gem..."

Neo's hind legs gave out, plummeting his flanks to the floor, in the glow of the stone. "I can't believe it..."

Lucy took off her fedora, pressing it against her slow pumping heart. "I.. I... I... I can’t believe it."

She craned her eyes up at Wester, who in the reflection of his crimson visor, stared endlessly at the awing rays of the Sun gem. "We need to get Ally and Big Lot... They'll want to see this..."

In a laboratory on the upper levels of the project floors, the gem sat on a pedestal behind a tinted glass shield. Neo and Adam stood in front of the shield, their noses close enough to the glass that a light fog developed around any exhaled breath. Lucy stood further back from the them, talking to Ironside. The conversation between them reached the brothers in hushed whispers, and airy hisses.

Big Lot slouched in a chair bolted to the wall across the room. Her little legs were folded, and the filly’s cheeks inflated while she mumbled to herself, “Stupid legs, too short to see the gem...”

Dahlia and Ronan were at the other end of the glass, Ronan tapping a hoof to his chin. Ally touched the shield, feeling the warming aura seep through the barrier. "I would have never thought Two Socks would’ve had something like this. Do you think he knew what it was?"

Neo saw the circle of fog fade manifesting over his snout after drawing a breath, "I couldn't tell you."

"It's rare to find a Sun gem these days." Dahlia felt compelled to keep her eyes on the stone. "This is the first Sun gem we've found in years."

Ally dropped her hoof, facing Dahlia, "That might explain why the Legion's been having a hard time finishing Iron Hammer... even if they need one gem left, there probably aren't many left."

"When we started work on this project," Dahlia began, "these gems were a dime a dozen. Abandon mines everywhere were practically littered with these things. Especially the deeper mines."

Her look became solid, and unblinking, like the gem spoke to her in way only she could understand. "Back in the stable, the artificial garden has a few of their own Sun gems. When we ran testing on them we never imagined what sort of power they had."

Neo took a brief gander over his shoulder at Lucy and Ironside's meeting, "Do you think they'll use this stone for the same purpose? Abuse the power the gem holds for the sake of conquest?"

Ally gently stroked Neo’s back, soothing him the best she could, "They wouldn't use this to finish the Legion's weapon."

She looked at Dahlia, worry resonating off of her widened eyes. "Would they?"

Dahlia's tone hadn't faltered, "I'm not part of their military, or their war anymore. I'd rather this gem stay here, and be used to help one of the gardens."

"If they do pull the gem however," Ronan added, "there's scarcely anything we could do to stop them."

Neo's ears flattened, melding into his mane as his father spoke. Not even the lavishing rays of the gem could make him forget the troubled feelings he had, scratch irritably at the back of his mind.

Beepbeep... beepbeep... The watch around the Ronan's foreleg tolled. His ears perked up in surprise, as he shook his lab coat sleeve back to check it. Dahlia sauntered to him as the ring died, taking one of his hooves in her own, "You have to go check the river flow again?"

The skirting shadow of his eyes didn't remove the softness of the smile he gave her, "Yeah..."

He brought her hoof to his lips -- pecking it, before walking away from his wife, and out of the room. Neo didn't bother to see him leave, keeping all thoughts, all focus on the gem on the pedestal.

Everyone was silent around the gem, like a group gathered in quiet mourning of the dead. Dahlia shuffled to Neo's side, sighing at him, "He’s always busy."

"Seems so." Neo answered plainly.

Neo shifted his gaze to his mother, fighting back an explosive heat wanting to exhume from within him. He choked on it, at first, clamping down his teeth in hopes to bar it in.

But standing beside her weakened his hold, and loosening the firm grit of his molars, Neo spoke, "During the investigation, Adam and I uncovered something."

Adam's face sprung to life, like all energy had been suddenly turned on. Glancing at his brother, he asked, "Do want me to tell her?"

Neo shook his head continuing as he was, "No, I'll do it."

Keeping mute, Adam allowed Neo to advance further into the topic. "Adam found something -- back at the mines. They were logs from Vladimir, and in one..."

A scolding bulge lodged itself in his throat. Dahlia's face seemed so innocent, and mild. To say anything would ruin her contentment. Ultimately, he beat the blockage down, sucking in a minor lung of air.

"You were in, or at least I think you were, in one of the logs. Working with the Legion."

Neo's voice quavered as he hastily included, "I-Is that true?"

Her expression melted, somberly replaced with a shake of her head, "I won't lie to you -- to either of you. I did work for him, your father too. When we were younger, the Legion was very different, and so were we. At the time, we were two young, brilliant minds from the stable wanting to make a difference. And they offered us that chance to do so..."

"Then what happened?" Neo's head was cocked to one side. "What changed?"

"Their motives, and values." Dahlia answered. "After the purging, when they cleansed a few outer settlements filled with ex-enclave, we left."

Her eye contact with her son was severed, as it swayed off to the ground, "I try and forget it happened... it's in the past, and as a scientist my goal is to look to the future."

Lucy's head bobbed at Ironside, and he too returned the earnest nod. Without hearing what they said, the two parted ways, as Neo saw out of the corner of his eyes Lucy walk toward them.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

"No," Dahlia patted Lucy's shoulder, "we were just wrapping it up."

Lucy nodded, "Good, I just got done talking to Wilco back there. He's going to let the higher-ups know about the gem."

"I'll be waiting for their response as soon as it comes in." Dahlia upturned her look to the exit, nudging the air in its direction. "Though, I'd like you to do a favor for me."

Lucy's shoulders slumped as she put her weight on her left hoof, "What is it you want?"

"Can you take Neo to the Biome 3?" She requested. "There's something he might need to take care of."

Neo's heart went colder than the brisk air-conditioned floor they stood on. His ears retreated back to his mane, hiding away as he guided his eyes out of the two mare's vision.

"Sure," Lucy answered with a chuckle, "I can do that."

She prodded at Neo's side, smirking, "What is it you got to do? Something top secret?"

"It's a little private matter, yes." Dahlia stated.

Lucy’s hoof stopped a few inches from Neo, ready to poke him again. "Oh, I get it. Say no more."

Tipping her hat to Dahlia, Lucy started for the exit, Neo following at her rear.

As the two vacated the room, Dahlia fell back to gem standing next to Adam. Letting her eyelids calmly fall shut, she exhaled drooping her nose to the floor. Adam came to his mother, feeling a silky force pull him to her.

He draped a leg around her shoulder, comforting his mother with a gentle stroke on her back, "It'll be good for him."

Inhaling deeply, she arched her neck back steering the end of her nose to the ceiling. When her lungs were filled with the clean laboratory air, Dahlia slowly leveled her gaze, laying the side of her head atop Adam's mane. "I have hope for him. Perhaps there's still time to salvage their relationship... one can only hope."

Wester came to one of the seats beside Big Lot, and sat down. He swerved his visor to the exit, staring at recently used doors swing, “Aren’t you going to leave?”

The remark made her back stiff, pulling her upright in the chair, “What? Why would I want to leave?”

“To talk with Neo.”

Big Lot folded her hooves, “Well he’s busy. He probably doesn’t want to talk to me anyway.”

“You should still attempt it.” Wester insisted. “It’ll improve your mental status.”

Jabbing a hoof into his solid metal ribcage, she puckered her lower lip at him, “And you are you to tell me how my mental status is? I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean!”

“Forgive me, it means to feel better about yourself.”

She flipped a few of her more lengthy curls of mane over the side of her face, hiding away any expression with a kitten-like grunt. Wester slouched his shoulder back rotating his head to the Sun gem container.

“I won’t force you to do anything. But you and you alone have to deal with it.”

The word alone harkened a bitter sourness that bounded up into her mouth. “D-Do you think I can? What if if all goes wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Wester looked down at his revolver holster, “I tend to shoot things when it all goes wrong.”

Big Lot frowned, “You’re telling me…”

Wester sighed, hanging his breather low, “I’m not effective at social communication.”

“You’re telling me…”

She patted Wester’s armored hoof, “Listen, big metal guy, I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.”

Wester didn’t move.

“You understand, right?” She asked again.

Wester nodded. “Affirmative.”

“Though.” Big Lot scoffed. “You really need to sound more alive. It’d help with these sorts of conversations. Just so you know.”

Nighttime was soft, and quiet. Like a thin blanket coating the world in a shadowed veil. Peacefully serene. Somewhere out in the vast expanse of opened rough desert crickets played their merry chirps. The bodiless sound they produce lost in the night's dark curtain.

A few ponies were gathered around a low burning fire -- all armored to hoof in green plated barding. Some wore gas masks, fastened to repurposed army helmets. Others, Steel Ranger power armor toting on their backs gatling gun battle saddles.

There was no more than ten of them, the more heavily protected of the group had their hooves folded underneath them as they laid leisurely against the grey ashen stumps of trees encircling the area.

A mare sitting on a rock, with thin strands of grey mane jutting from a bun bundled atop her head tossed a few sticks, stockpiled beside her into the oranges flames that cavorted against the nightly breeze.

Little Red sat close to the fire, a brown blanket smudged in with specks of mud draped over his shoulders. He buried his nose in the the blanket, as if he were hiding an offensive expression. But he never removed his eyes from the flames, losing himself in the rhythm they moved to.

A cyan pegasus stallion removed his helmet, tucking it underneath a wing. Flipping is wild long mane hued in the same color of freshly fallen snow, he laughed boisterously. "Ha ha! It's finally good to get out of the old thing, am I right?"

The stallion's voice was pure, deep, and courageous -- like it belong to a noble character in a storybook, who lived in a different time. Heartily slapping a comrade on the back on his way to the fire pit he chortled, "I say, is anyone thrilled over today's victory?"

He scanned his fellow soldiers with a grin, flashing the pearly whites of his immaculately cared for teeth. None payed him a glance, or a stare. None even cared to reply to his question.

The mare sitting on the rock scoffed, feeding the starving flames a few twigs. "Vigilance, it was hardly a victory at all. The only thing we should be celebrating is the fact you got that fat head of yours out of your helmet."

Chest pushed out, the stallion sauntered to the mare's side, clamping a hoof around her shoulder. He moved his lips close to her ear, chuckling a tone that teetered between cocky, and pompous. "But didn't you see how swiftly we dealt with that scum! The skill! The action!"

Letting the mare go, he turned his attention to the stars, extending a hoof and sweeping it across the purple night sky in wonder. "The marvel of our victory."

"Heh," the mare picked up a long lanky whip-like stick in her mouth, "heresh a marvel fer ya'!"

Flying through the air, she whipped the end, twirling it about in the air for a second before flinging the wire-thin tip at his exposed flank. CRACK! Vigilance felt the sharp vicious bite of the stick-whip lance through his hide.

"Yeep!" He howled like a kitten, jumping and scurrying off across to the other side of the fire. The stallion puckered his lower lip whimpering, while attentively rubbing the swelling red spot marked where contact had been made.

Vigilance circled with the tip of his hoof over the bruise's border, before returning to the mare -- nose scrunched, and eyes projecting a tight, focused, stare-down glare alight in fury. "You may condemn me, Ms. Captain of the regiment! But you know I'm right!"

"All I know," The mare leaned forward, smirking as wide as the muscles in her cheeks could give, "is that you’re going to feel that in the morning!"

Those in the regiment rallied behind her, taking part in a loud whoops and laughs applauding their Captain's response. Vigilance’s eyes darted around the camp, jumping from pony to pony as his jaw slacked agape in stunned awe.

He groaned in the most plumy way possible, "Surely you don't agree with her?"

The Captain's laughter died down, diminish to a mere throaty crackle. "I think our opinion is unanimous."

Vigilance closed his mouth, pulling up a scowl. The stallion strolled to a rock further away from the fire's warmth, and craned his nose to the stars, plunking his haunches on a flat-topped rock. "I'm talking of glory, and you seem to be more interested in that brat we recovered."

Tittering contemptuously, he added, "He's probably a runt who escaped from the orphanage in Ironstead. I’d wager he's a thief, a coward, or a slave!"

"Hey!" The Captain barked, rising out of her seat. "I don't give a fuck on how amazing you think your job is, but when it comes to talking shit about the kid, you can keep your snarky remarks to your goddamn self!"

He snorted a hmph, and turned a cheek to her, keeping his nose raised to the sky. The Captain kept standing up for a moment, retaining her hawk-honed eyes on him.

She sat down on the rock again, throwing a stick into the fire like a child tossing a stone across a pond. A few dazzling sparks rose with a plume of ash motes into the hot warming air hovering just above it.

Little Red hadn't moved from his spot, nor had his eyes faltered. The Captain averted her attention to the colt, eventually bringing herself to nudge his shoulder. "Hey kid, you alright?"

At the touch of her hoof, an icy shock ran up Little Red's spine, forcing a startled twitch that took his nose out of the blanket. He looked up at her silently, breathing picking up to short huffs.

She spoke calmly, adding a nurturing rub to his back, "Don't listen to him, the bastard's full of himself."

Little Red didn't say a word. After a few moments of quietness pervading the atmosphere between them, he shrugged off her hoof, and returned his sight to the fire. "I'm fine... I guess."

"Where are you from?" She asked.

The colt snuggled the front end of his face into the blanket, pulling the slack tighter around the rest of his body. "Are from around here?" The mare inquired again.

He nodded, not changing his visual direction.

"Huh," the mare sighed curiously, "there aren't any settlements nearby. The closest one is Arkcannon, and it's quite a few miles from where we are."

"I told you," Vigilance quipped, "he's a scoundrel from Ironstead!"

She snapped her teeth like a ravenous dog, "Shut it!"

"I-I'm not from a town." Little Red mewled.

His reply brought her ears to attention, "Then where?"

Little Red's ears drooped, vanishing entirely into his mane, "A stable..."

"Really?" She didn't sound surprised. "That explains the Pipbuck we found on them... but there's only two stables around, right?"

He didn't answer her. He merely let himself become entranced by the flames, keenly inspecting their movements -- shifting one way and back listening to the breaking of newly added wood, crack under the inferno's glow. The fire's susurrations slithered into his mind, as a shadow skirted borders of his vision.

The world was consumed by the shadow -- but the fire's color stood everlasting in the fading world. It became so small, so feeble, a singularity of illumination haloed in gold. At one time the shine dimmed. Dimming, dimming, out of existence.

Then, Vladimir opened his eyes, revealing the blinding white rays of the humming ceiling light of the medical ward. The nurse was standing at the end of the bed, conversing with another nurse. At first their words were slurred in an obscuring ring that buzzed loudly in his ears. As the noise lifted while consciousness returned to him, he could hear at last.

The nurse noticed him awake, and smiled, "Oh, you're up!"

She gave the other nurse a polite nod, and walked along the side of the bed to the heart monitor. "Are you feeling tired? Nauseous? Light-headed?"

"No." Vladimir answered in a long exhalation.

The nurse tapped a button below the black screen of the monitor, bringing up a series of numbers on the screen, "Good, good. The medications I gave you seem to be doing their job."

Vladimir lifted a hoof to her, speaking in a rasping cough, "What were you talking about?"

She hadn't removed her focus from the machine. "What, dear?"

"The other nurse and you," his words came out more clearly, "what were you talking about?"

Walking to the end of the bed, she took off a clipboard suspended on a hook. Levitating the paper up to her face, she floated a pen from a pocket on her uniform, and began scribbling down the information from the machine.

"It's really quite fascinating." She started. "Apparently one of Dahlia's boys had a Sun gem on them!"

Vladimir's eyes widened, as his entire body went flushed with an excitingly bubbly heat. "Oh?"

"Strange, I know," the nurse giggled finishing up her task, "I thought they were just about gone from the province. Looks like that'll teach us to think something's completely vanished."

"D-Do you know where they're keeping it?" Vladimir spat in a hacking cough. "Just out of c-curiosity, of course."

Holstering the pen in the comfort of her pocket, she hung the clipboard again. "Well, Scarlet Cross told me that it they were keeping it in the lab upstairs. She mentioned they're going to run tests on it, and everything. Too bad we're stuck down here, I'd love to take a gander at it while it's still outside the gardens."

"How interesting." Vladimir purred, a grin forming. "How interesting..."

Ironside sat at a steel desk, pushed against the end wall of a long room. In one hoof he held a phone, connected by a coiled black wire to a radio. Above a fan spun uneasily -- wobbling back and forth like a ship on the choppy waves of a rough ocean. The handset's speaker pressed into his ear, as a stallion spoke to him from the other line.

His other free hoof lay on the desktop, tapping to the rhythm of the fan's rocking. "Yes, that's what I'm asking for."

The pony on the end had a young voice, belonging to someone no older than Neo, "Are you sure you want nearly everyone? You are aware that that would leave the Keep incredibly vulnerable to the Legion patrols."

Ironside's reply tinged with sturdy confidence, unbending to even the most minor of worries. "I'm fully aware General, and trust me, we'll need every soldier we can muster if we want to get to Iron Hammer."

"It'll be a bloodbath," the General remarked, "what if we lose everything we've worked so hard to achieve?"

"I'd rather try, then bend over and take annihilation!" A sharp higher pitch marked the rising urgency. "Might I remind you they're one gem away from completion? One gem away from taking away everything in the province, and a good portion of Equestria as well!"

"The last time our scouts thoroughly inspected the Legion's stance on the mines we counted some nine-hundred troops." The General included, "And to increase the severity of this situation, reports of another five-hundred have been reported getting on the trains heading over there in the past four days."

The General's speech deepened, somberly adding to the report, "Compare that to our seven-hundred we can send from the keep, and we can't even compete."

A light of boisterous vigor saturated his response, "But we have air superiority! Something the Legion can't even touch us with! And, may I say, that we also have one of the first Sun gems found in years."

"That may be so," The General said, "but I don't like the odds."

"It's that, sir, or all of us are already dead."

A pause came from the General, spurring a minute of nervous anticipation nipping at the back of Ironside’s neck like a swarm of hungry mosquitoes. Amidst the quiet, the General sighed, "I'll provide you with full command over our troops from Steelhoof."

Ironside smirked, "Thank you, sir."

"But," the General interpreted, "on one condition."

The recent statement piqued an eyebrow to arch. "And what might that be, sir?"

"I want you to destroy Iron Hammer."

A heaviness, like a cannonball thrown into a pool of tar, chillingly sank in his stomach. "You can't be serious, sir?!"

"Indubitably so, Ironside."

Without sparing Ironside a chance to retort, The General continued, "If you object I'll stand by sending my troops, but I'll find someone else to command the assault."

Ironside nearly jumped out of his seat, "B-But sir, please reconsider!"

"There is no negotiating the matter. The deal is as it is. Accept it, or not. The choice is yours, Ironside. My troops will be waiting for aerial pick-up."

Hanging up, the Genera left. Ironside slowly lowered the handset of the radio, before finally putting it on the top with a click. One of the twins ambled from behind him, a clipboard telekinetically orbiting at her side. "Sir? What did the General say?"

The pitt in his gut sank deeper, and deeper, carving out a more hollow hole inside him. The sensation slacked the muscles in his jaws. "He doesn't want us to take control of Iron Hammer..."

"Are you serious?" The mare asked, irises contracting. "Wouldn't that-"

"I know. I know." Ironside interjected. "It's clear that the Dahlia's boys aren't the only ones who want it destroyed."

"What are you going to do, sir?"

He turned a sideways glance at her, "Exactly what I'll need to do, Lieutenant."

The grass was soothing to the touch. Brushing Neo's hooves as he walked through a grove of trees sealing away the artificial sunlight in a thick canopy. The bleeding cracks through the gnarled branches appeared heavenly, and golden. From larger gaps a pillar of the angelic illumination filtered through. Casting a revealing light on a straight pathway of flattened grass.

Not far away, the sough of a hustling creek, chirping and bubbling amongst the trees trickled faintly. It called to him, from further down the path. Guiding him past trunk after trunk. Neo looked over his shoulder, not disturbing the stride he kept.

He'd traveled a fair distance, as the entrance to the biome merged with the distant columns of trees, vanishing entirely into the woods. Lucy had left him completely alone. She alone carried on to check on the tracking device at the electronics technician.

Returning his attention to the trail, he gulped. His entire face seared, while the steady beating of Neo's heart rose, faster and faster. Twitching around inside him, wanting to escape, and hop down the road in the opposite direction.

Each hoof step brought him closer to him. Each hoof step cranking the fuming pressure in his gut.

At the end of the path, where the compressed blades of grass met the stony shore of a mild stream, his father was kneeling by the running water. A strange tube-like device attached to an apparatus partially submerged in the clear liquid.

His father hadn’t noticed him, nor had he heard his steps. Neo stared Ronan's back like a child, diligently observing the door they believe contained a foul monstrous beast. In this situation, that terrifying monster, that stunning apparition was his father.

He took a step forward. No sound, no attention drawn to him. Neo took another, this time bringing his whole self with it. Standing a mere five steps apart from him, he glanced over his shoulder one last time. Whatever part of the entrance there was couldn't be seen. Now was the time of deliverance.

Seize or panic. Confront, or cower.

Neo inhaled, feeling a tremble itch in his forehooves. Taking the available courage he had, Neo reinforced his gut. With stomach hardened, and the fear freshly pumping its shiver-inducing chemicals, Neo braced the oncoming emotion.

"D-Dad?"

Ronan rose his posture, calmly turning around to face his son. "Neo? What are you doing here?"

Neo's cheeks were a blistering shade of red, like the scolding surface of liquified iron. "I'm here-"

A lump shot up his throat in mid-sentence. A hard shallow later, and the matter was corrected. "I'm here to talk."

Ronan placed the long end of the device in a coat pocket sitting above his heart. "I can talk for the moment. What is it you want to say?"

Neo's voice hardened, "I know there's a lot more at work here... and I understand that I may not fully comprehend all that you've done for us."

"But," Neo went on, "that doesn't get rid of the years I spent hating what you did."

Ronan did not speak to his son -- the last move he could make was to do so. Much like a dedicated student listened to a lecture, he soaked in every word Neo had to say.

"Every other day, since you left, I'd hear mom cry in her room. Hurting from what you did to us."

A concealing shadow masked Neo's eyes, as he pointed them to the ground. "I thought that that alone was reason enough to hate you."

His tone deepened, holding years of blazing bottled-up fury, "I don't even care about why you were gone... I moved aside that thought as quickly as I could... What bothered me was the effect it had on her and Adam."

"Be both had to grow up without a father," his words fluttered in the shuddering wake of a fiery sting grasping his heart, "I wanted nothing more than to never remember you. But no matter how hard I wanted to, mom would always remind me. Like I needed to rekindle that contempt I had."

In a single exhale, all of the scorching enmity swelling in his chest released. Flooding out entirely, as he looked his father in the eyes. "I don't care anymore... about what you did."

An arctic grotto, void and vast, was carved out where the expelled flames of volcanic hatred persisted. It numbed his blood, eventually, bringing his hooves to a motionless state. "I don't care. But I'm not forgiving you. I... I... don't think I can bring myself to, even if I tried."

"What I will do," Neo said, "is try the best I can to move on."

A faint, but earnest smile came onto Ronan's face. "That's a very brave thing you did. Confronting your emotions like that."

"And regardless of what you think," Ronan took a few steps toward Neo, "I am proud of you."

He lifted one hoof of the ground, extending it out to his son, "All I ask in return, if you're willing, is that you give your old man a hug."

Neo hesitated, suspending his hoof in the air, as though her were going to move onward. But, with a shake of his head and a step to his father, he wrapped a hoof around Ronan.

Delicately hugging his son, Ronan patted Neo on the back, a chuckle rushing out.

Neo, removed himself from the hug, stepping back enough to where he could see his father entirely. "What are you laughing about?"

Ronan whipped his nose, giggling a little more, "Your mother asked you to talk to me, didn't she?"

Neo felt the heat flush back into his cheeks -- out of pure embarrassment, he rubbed the back hairs of his sweaty black mane, "Well..."

"It's alright," He replied, playfully nudging Neo in the shoulder, "I'm still proud of you."

Ronan included a little wink, whispering, "You don't have to tell your friends about it either."

For the first time, his father's words brought a smile to his face. A crooked, disportionate grin, but nonetheless, a smile all the same. "Thanks."

"Come on," he said with a jerk of his head and a pat on Neo's back, "let's go see your mother. Show her everything turned out alright."

Neo moved with him, facing the wooded path once more. "You think mom will be proud?"

"Proud?" Ronan's laughter escaped through his teeth, "She'll be thrilled!"

At the base of its claws, the dirt sifted. Furrowing the hard mine floor with needly grooves. The Predator prowled a few steps forward down a darkened hall, wandering in a dazed, swaying advance. At the third step, it paused, as if suddenly stricken by a stiffening chill.

Then, it staggered into its knees, crouching bottom up. In a hissing wheeze it toppled over to one side. The final sighing pressure releasing from a pipe in its jaw.

An oily pool of black muck amassed at its upper neck. Pooling, and swirling the dry dirt caught in the substance's tiny current. The creatures eyes, once ablaze in a terrifying hellish crimson, dimmed.

Fading, fading... until becoming a solid, lifeless black. A hoof stepped over the ribcage of the best. Armored in the green leg guards of the Legion army. Thatch stood above the Predator. A dead, Predator.

He pulled a grimace at the luster of its flesh shearing teeth. "It's dead?"

He wrinkled his nose as the sour odor of the oil tainted both nostrils. "It certainly smells dead."

An earth pony soldier, encased in a full suit of green power armor, approached the slain monstrosity -- prodding it with the end of a gauss rifle fastened to a battle saddle. "It looks that way, sir."

Thatch glanced over his shoulder back at the control room he and the other two soldiers had been locked in. "I can't believe what I'm seeing..."

"It's understandable, sir." The ironclad soldier replied gruffly. "We'll need to move on, though. I killed one, but there are still one or two runnin' around the mine."

Thatch did a little hop over the mechanical beast's body, lightly patting the soldier on the shoulder, "You did good." He added a feverish nod, accompanied by a sickened murmur, "You did good..."

"The surface doors are opened, sir. We received your message."

Hobbling over to the wall, Thatch braced himself with one hoof. Staring at the floor, he could feel the arduous strain of the moment catch up with him. Slick saliva lubricated his throat, as the contents of his stomach bubbled and festered.

"How many troops came down?" He gagged, slapping a hoof over his mouth, "What of the Warden?"

The soldier ambled to his side, "Two hundred and fifty, sir. Two of our guys have the guns to kill these things. So far, we've taken out a good many of the damn metal cats."

Thatch's stomach convulse, shooting the chunky bits of his stomach up into his mouth. Cheeks puffed, and lips curled inward blocking the way for the vomit to leave. He swallowed the whole bitter lot of his previous meal. Gasping for air as stomach acid numbed his esophagus.

"What about the Warden?" His eyes were wreathed in pink shade of blood-filed veins. "What do you know about his position?"

"We suspect he's in another control room. Somewhere more secure than the one you were in."

Motioning his helmet to the end of the hall, the soldier implored, "I’m sorry to repeat myself, but we need to get you to the surface, sir. It's not safe."

Pulling himself back from the wall, Thatch coughed up a few bits of the food that had stayed, "Can you at least put my mind at ease?"

"What is it, sir?"

"Is Iron Hammer still intact?"

The soldier nodded. "We haven't found any technician bodies yet, and the miners didn't manage to bust down the control station for the weapon."

Thatch managed a laugh over another convulsion punching his stomach, "Good news," throwing his head back he sighed, "it's finally some good news..."

Lucy walked through the electronic technician's door. A particular lovely flutter coming from her heart, as she came inside. This would be the last time she'd have to see the coy flirtatious stallion sway the greasy curls of his mane at her.

Just go in, get the info, and leave. The thought looped more quickly the closer she came to the desk. Just go in, get the info, and leave.

The stallion was hunched over a Stable-Tech brand laptop, dully grey and bulky enough to withstand a missile at point-blank range. Adamantly clicking away at the keys, while occasionally throwing a glance at the tracking device beside the computer. A few twisting wires were connected to the device, tangling around one another like the confusing braid of whip.

He didn't notice Lucy come in, and he certainly didn't see her lean against the front of the desk. "Hey, it's been a little bit since I saw you, do you think it's done yet?"

The stallion chortled suavely from deep within his throat. A matching grin of eye-rolling proportions followed it, "I can't say I have, darling. Though, I'm quite near entering the system."

In mid-type, he paused, tilting his head in a seductive leer, "For you, I can stop -- it can wait while we talk awhile."

Lucy planted a hoof against her forehead, muttering under a sickened groan, "Listen, sleazenugget, just finish up would ya'?"

His hooves began swiftly clacking at the keys, "If it'd make you happy."

"Yes," the spot her hoof had hit left a red pulsing oval, "just... do it."

The soft, romantic-fueled eyes of the clerk faded the longer he looked at the screen. His typing grew sluggish, diminishing in speed with each little click of a button. He eventually stopped, mouth agape, as he scratched the inner curls of his mane.

"Huh," he uttered leaning forward into the screen, "that's odd..."

Lucy put both hooves on the desk, and keeled over to take a look at the screen. "What is it?"

"Is, this Ranger fellow," the stallion's words faltered, "is... is he... W-What faction did he say he belonged to?"

Lucy recoiled from the desk, "He said he's a freelancer, from Silvermane."

"Ah," the technician bellowed, "that's interesting."

"Why?"

He spun the computer screen around for he to see, tugging the cords and the device with it. Visually presented as green lines on a black background, a map of the northern mountain region was shown. At the far left, a spot in the Darkmines blinked -- while to the right, a little flashing orb nestled itself between a mountain somewhere in the elevated wilderness.

"Because, as you can see, darling," he stretched a hoof over the screen and pressed a button on the side of the keyboard, "this is what interests me."

Another beacon signaled in the form of a flashing blip over the Darkmines, where sitting directly below it a text box read: Sending Signal To.

Lucy shook her head, dashing her pupils around the floor in front of her, "This doesn't make sense... If he isn't working for them then..."

Realization struck her, like a bludgeon to the back of the head. Shocking, hard, and completely unexpected. Lucy's eyes widened, and her ears melted into her brim of her hat,

"Oh shit..."

"What is it?" The technician asked, a hoof resting on the top of the monitor.

An energy, vigorous and electrifying briskly travel through leg and hoof alike. She frantically pranced in place, words concealed in a stutter, "I have to go tell them! I need to get Wester and the others!"

The stallion frowned, closing the laptop, "Darling, would you kindly explain to me what it is you're so flustered about?"

She slammed one hoof on the ground, echoing an ear-numbing metallic clank throughout the room. It stopped the air, causing everything go silent and still. In response, her vocal cords strained, buckling sorely as she exclaimed, "It's Vladimir! Ranger is Vladimir!"

"It's okay, it's okay, Big Lot, you're the boss." The little filly's back was firmly pressed to a wall next to the hallway. "It's okay, it's okay..."

She clopped her hooves together, breathing in deeply and exhaling. "You're the boss, you can kick this in the pants... easy, right?"

Peaking around the corner beside her, she saw the hallway leading into biome three. It was empty, all the way down as far as she could see. Pulling herself back to the safety of the wall, she put a hoof to her lower lip, feeling the a pit plunk in her chest.

"What if he hates me more?" She nibbled on the tip of her hoof. "What if he punches me? Oh Celestia it'll be like the slave line all over again..."

Quickly, she slapped herself, bringing her back to the go-to attitude. "Snap out of it! Just do what your gut tells you, Big Lot. If he attacks, a hoof to the face should solve it!"

Nodding, the filly satisfyingly rubbed her hooves together, "Yeah, that's good... let's make sure it doesn't come to that... Real good plan Big Lot you wicked genius."

The steady rhythm of hoof steps carried from down the hall. Big Lot's heart lunged up into her neck, as she clasped her chest. "Oh no," she squeaked, "he's coming..."

The monotonous drumming of oncoming clops lamented. Clip, clop, clip clop. Beneath the the hoof, her heart bounced about more than a rubber ball, fiercely thrown at the ground. Big Lot’s lips bared -- she felt like the minute a peep was uttered it would hop out in front of her.

She sucked up a lung full of air, lightening the rock pitted in her stomach. Clearing her throat, hardening her expression and stepped out into the middle of the hall -- she bloated her breast. Ready.

Down the hall, some fifty steps away, Neo walked alongside his father. Big Lot glared at the two -- unblinking. Any other expression, and she might lose the confidence she had managed to gain.

Neo planted his eyes on her once he was well within a few feet from the filly. Big Lot appeared narrowed-eyed, and scowling. "Hey!" She barked. "I want to talk to you!"

Pausing, Neo looked down at her, "What's the matter? You look upset."

She rose a hoof, jaw dropped for speech to come racing out, only to be filled with absolute silence. The filly kept this posture for a minute. Then inflating her tiny rosey cheeks, she stomped a hoof adding a little hmph.

Neo blinked. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

The little one's balloon cheeks shaded a deeper hue of red the longer she held her breath, and the further they stretched. Unleashing the building air altogether, Big Lot shook her head muttering, "Why is this so hard?!"

"Is it what you have to say?" Neo asked.

She sighed, flattening her ears, "Yeah..."

Putting a hoof to her shoulder, Neo laughed, "I've been through a little bit of my own adventure into the wide-world of confrontations today."

"I think it's best," Neo said, "if you just speak your mind."

Big Lot trailed her head to the side -- quiet as she saw her warped reflection in the floor. "I'm..."

She bit her hoof absently, feeling the rock in her body dive deeply into her, "I'm... sorry."

"What?" Neo titled his head to the side, flopping one ear down. "I don't understand."

"I'm sorry." Big Lot grumbled underneath her breath. "For everything..."

Neo dropped his head to her, cupping a hoof to his ear, "What? I didn’t hear you."

"I'm sorry," she murmured sourly, "I'm sorry for what I did..."

Neo stood upright, smiling at her, "Really?"

The filly puckered out her lower lip bitterly, feeling a dizzy nauseousness stir in her over what she had said. "Yeah... I-I do..."

Neo ruffled her golden locks of mane, forcing a few surprised peeps from her, "There's still a little bit of me that's angry, but there's not much I can do about that. I guess I'll always hold a small grudge in some shape or another..."

Patting her delicately twice on the head, he continued, "But I'm happy you came out to see me, and thank you for the apology. It means more than you think."

Her eyes bulged, and she traveled her sight up at Neo, "You... you mean it?"

"Yeah," Neo nodded, "yeah I do."

Big Lot litfed an eyebrow, "So, does that mean I made ah-mends?"

Neo shrugged, one shoulder after the other, "More or less. You did okay for your first time."

Leaping up onto her hind-legs, she threw her hooves up in air, whooping, "YEAH! I'M THE BOSS! I KICKED IT IN THE PANTS!"

Ronan crookedly grimaced, "What does that..."

Neo hastily poked his father in the chest, "Just, let her have this for the moment."

An air-raid horn tore through the hallways like the shockwave of a bomb. It hit the three ponies suddenly, stabbing their eardrums with its deafening shriek. Big Lot was in mid-jump when the sound blasted her, and as a near-instant reflex, she slammed both hooves over her ears.

Collapsing to the floor, Big Lot protected her head under both forelegs, painfully contracting their pressure attempting to block out the vexatious noise. Like little teeth, grinding on her the walls of her ears, she yelled, "What the heck is that?!"

Ronan looked up at ceiling, pressingly searching for something invisible to everyone else. "It's the alarm."

The horn drowned out all other sounds, leaving whatever was said at a normal volume to come out as a miniscule whisper. Neo cramped one ear under a hoof, as he turned to his father, "What? What does that mean?"

"Nothing good," Ronan's words tinged with urgency, "we need to get to the upper levels."

Neo scanned the edges of the hallway for the origin of the alarm. "Why? What could go wrong here?"

Ronan started down the hall in the trot, "I’m not sure. But whatever it is was more than enough to trigger the alarms."

The alarm so profoundly tolled throughout the hallways, that every new iteration of the stretched out cry, bit just as callously into the ears of those that heard it. Neo, Ronan, and Big Lot canter down a hallway, leading to the laboratory where the Sun gem was kept. At the end, they turned to the right where another hall guided them to a duel-set of white doors.

Ronan bulldozed aside the doors apart, slamming them against the walls. A red emergency light flashed over the normal sterile white room. Two lab assistance were slumped against the back wall, a hole drilled into their throats.

A pool of fresh blood collected in front of them, forcing a hoof over Ronan's now trembling lips. He stumbled in, unable to remove his eyes from the grotesque murdered souls, "Wh-What happened?"

Neo's eyes went to work, observing the scene for evidence. At the end of the room, in the container where the Sun gem once was, a chair lay on its side amongst a pile of various shards of green bordered glass representing what used to be the protective shield.

Directly above the shattered glass, dagger-like pieces, still clinging to the frame were left, but the pedestal holding the gem presented an empty, bare slate.

"It's gone," Neo whispered, "it's all gone..."

Ronan staggered forward. "Who would do this?"

Gasping, a chilling realization struck Ronan's back, "Oh Celestia, where is Dahlia?"

His eyes paced the room, marking each potential place in the laboratory for her location. He cavorted worryingly, raising his voice over the alarm, "Dahlia! Dahlia!"

Neo seized his father by the shoulders, keeping him in place while staring directly into his eyes. "Dad! Dad! Calm down!"

He reassured his father, "Dad, look at me. Listen, I'm sure mom is fine. We just need to figure out what's going on."

Big Lot pointed out into the hallway, "Guys, it's Lucy!"

Lucy bolted through the doorway, her tail wind whooshing by Big Lot. She came to a grinding stop, gritting her molars. At an idle state, the mare confronted Neo, "Where's Dahlia?"

Neo shook his head, a million thoughts pulsing over all rational thought, spilling over into his reply, "I don't know, we just got here. Do you know where she is? Where's the Sun gem? What's happening?"

"It's Ranger," Lucy answered in a growl, "he's not a freakin' freelancer."

"Then what is he?"

"He's Vladimir." Lucy snarled. "That fucking bastard lied to us to get in here."

She spared a sideways peek at the where the gem had been kept, "No doubt coming here to get a Sun gem for Iron Hammer."

"Where is he now?" A fire rising through his words, "Where is that son that son of bitch!"

Lucy coughed, "I don't know. For all we know, he's known about a way out for here all along, and he's been planning this the moment we stepped hoof in here."

A loudspeaker projected a stallion's sincere voice spoke, "Alert: all security personnel are to report to the hangar. An armed intruder has a hostage, and must be dealt with swiftly. Repeat, all security personnel are to move to the hangar. This is not a drill."

Lucy's eyes almost popped out of her skull, "Shit! We've got to get to the hangar! And fast!"

Security guards dressed in black jumpsuits hurried through the halls. Neo had been running from the lab, bounding down staircases, and twisting the elaborate system of passageways running through the project. The alarm had lost its effect on him. His mind buzzed, a myriad of emotions fueling the ferocious beating of his heart.

They came to the end of the hall, where a wide opened doorway heading in the hangar was crammed with bodies. Ponies, laying in the prone position or crouched behind a few crates they had assembled into a rough barricade. Inside the room an whirling wheeze of turbine engines gathering life blew.

The air suffused with a high-pitched hiss, the guards chatted back and forth to one another, their conversation on the next imminent course of action adrift in the engine's hum. Neo stuffed his nose between two security officers sitting behind a metal crate, "What's going on here? What's happened?"

One put their previous conversation on hold to answer him, "It's that Ranger fellow!" The guard's voice came out distant in the engine's deafening wir, "He has one of the prototype gunships!"

Neo had to scream over the sound, "Who's the hostage?"

The two guards looked at one another mournfully silent. A hollowed expression followed, furtively masked by a hushed gasp. "It's... Dahlia." One answered.

Neo's heart froze, and sunk to the bottom of his gut. When it hit, a cold washed over him like the tide of a northern sea sweeping away the warmth from the sun-glazed sand. A lurk jolted from his torso, pushing him forward from within. He shoved the two guards apart, and leapt over the crate.

"Mom!" He cried out extending a hoof out into the hangar.

A soldier nearby spotted him, and tackled him. Ultimately pinning Neo to the top of the box. "Sir, stop! It isn't safe!"

The guard wrapped his hooves around him like a snake. Not loosening himself for even the most heart-wrenching of pleas Neo spouted, "Let me go! Let me go!"

Neo shimmied about in the stallion's grip, managing to wiggle his mechanical foreleg out. Unable to place a direct hit on his captor, Neo reached out to the ship, barely visible from between two other larger gunships. “I don't want to lose her again!"

Adam, Wester, and Ally came dashing to the barricade. Adam saw the struggle between the guard and his brother, and agilely spoke to the nearest security pony. "What's going on here?"

He pointed at his squirming brother kept in place by the guard, "What did he do?"

Neo smacked the crate, gnashing his teeth. "He took her Adam! Vladimir took her!"

Ally faced Adam she stuttered, "Adam... I'm so-"

Adam took several steps back shaking his head. His face felt cold, freezing in a compiling assortment of confusing emotions sucking the angry from him.

"W-What?" Adam's voice was deathly weak, "She... She can’t..."

Another guard gingerly shuffled to Adam, cautiously extending a hoof out to him. "We're trying what we can to help her, but there isn't much we can do."

Adam's fury erupted all at once, "Why can't you!"

"There's massive caliber guns on that ships, and he's already forced the hangar door open. With Dahlia in there, we can't shoot it down!"

At the peak of the engines power, on both sides of the gunship the jets roared. A torrid typhoon blasted through the hall, tainted by the lung-searing smell of ignited gasoline. In the wake of the gust, the ship rose in the air, hovering in place for a moment.

The jet fuel burned Neo's eyes, drawing pools of tears being blow across his face by the engine's mighty breath.

"You bastard!" Neo's body trembled. "Bring her back! Bring her back!"

He bit his lower lip, suffering through the pain, allowing his upper teeth to draw blood. "Please," he lay the side of his head against the warmed metal of the crate losing the pleas to a soft sob, "please... not again... not again..."

Foot Note: Level Up!

New Perk: Do Not Fear Death, Bruddeh. Shoot.: When confronting raiders, bandits, or mercenaries -- you now have the ability to shoot and reload while sprinting.

Foot Note: Level Up!

Would you like to level up Adam as well?

Yes-

No

New Perk: It All Tastes Like Chicken: All food you consume provides +15 HP.

Proofread by:

Noakwolf

Thefullmetalbrony

Author's Note

Hey everyone! It's been a little over a month since the last chapter, but that's okay. I had an incredible time writing this chapter. Even if a good way through the editing phase I became stricken with a horrible illness. I'm fine now, of course.

Sadly, I didn't have many deckhands to help edit or proofread. However, my younger brother graciously took time out of his busy schedule to help me out. Which, considering the size of this, is immensely altruistic. Though that does mean that a few, be it minor, errors should still be tucked somewhere in the wording. If you happen to spot something, firstly I apologize, and two thank you so much for pointing it out.

Off and on, I'll skim through it some more and find errors to remove. (If there are, I'm not entirely sure.)

I hope you liked this chapter -- there are a few scenes I thought came out remarkably well. While others were okay. Still, I feel overall the chapter as a whole was good. What will happen next? Find out next time on Fallout Equestria: Brotherhood!

P.S. I think I figured out why the A.N. section makes two entries. Hopefully that won't happen now with this chapter.