Ruins of the Rebel Base (Neutral)

OzyManedias pulled the janitor's jumpsuit over his body, effectively hiding his cutie mark and wings from view. he took a generic baseball cap and shoved it onto his head, covering his bright yellow eyes.

He became just another face in a crowd, hiding in plain sight. he stepped out of the bathroom and whistled softly as he cleaned the hallways of the rebel base.

He wanted to get in contact with a pony named Torna. if his records were correct, she would be the strategist, so all the statistics and info he had stolen from that U.A.E. soldier back in Ponyville would be of more worth (and cash, he might add) to her.

Ms. Pessimism (Ozy's new nickname for Loyal) walked past him, and he briefly glanced at her, analyzing her, taking everything in.

"I don't want to set the world on fire~..." he sang softly to past the time. He took his mop and slowly and systematically started to sweep the base, looking for the pony he wanted.

((MANY hours later))

"Where in this Celestia Forsaken facility IS EVERYPONY?" He groaned from boredom. Wherever this Torna was, she definitely was not here. And by the looks of it, not that many other ponies. the only one he could find was Ms. Pessimism.

"Maybe I should just head back to PonyVille." He muttered. He shuddered at the thought of facing the pony in the black jumpsuit and shades. He was no fighter, and he certainly did NOT want to die.

"What I've got they used to call the blues...Nothing is really wrong, feeling like I don't belong..." Loyal sang as she broke into the ammunition storage of the base, tossing the corpse of the rebel who was supposed to guard it into the bay. She didn't stop singing as she looked around. Yes. This would be enough to blow this popsicle stand sky high. She still sang as she knocked together a makeshift explosive and attached to one of the bigger storages. She considered blowing it up right there and then, but decided not to push her survivability. So she reworked one of the remote frequencies (they were just lying around here, the rebels were not organised).

"Rainy days and Mondays always get me down~"

And there it was. With a simple flick of a switch, the base would be consumed in a tragic explosion.

((assuming we are the only two here, I'm going to go ahead and post))

As he passed the ammunition storage, he heard the sound of a body hitting The floor.

"Rainy days and Mondays always get me down~"

OzyManedias had a feeling. As if opening that door could very easily save and end his life. As a general rule, he didnt like to put himself into these situations in the first place...

But curiousity will always kill the cat.

He krept cautiously up to the door, instinctively feeling his dartgun and His Prized Possession. After a moment, he whispered to himself

"Eh, Carpe Diem."
He didnt slam the door, or try and stealthily creak it open. He just opened the door to see Ms. Pessimism (whom he will continue to call by his nickname until he finds out more about her) and the poor pony who stood in her way.

He suddenly felt incredibly confined by his jumpsuit and baseball cap. He assessed the situation very quickly. Bombs and ammunition and remote detonators and bodies and...
1...2...3...
Ding!
"Miss?" OzyManedias spoke clearly and moved very slowly, making absolutely no sudden movements. "If your going to blow up this base of operations, could you potentially do it After this war ends?" He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "For whatever the reason for..." He glanced at the body of the dead rebel squeamishly. "...for these actions, surely there is something I can do to dissuade you..."

Letting aside the feeling of nausea, OzyMandias straightened his posture, although you couldn't see his eyes, he did his best to face Loyal directly. he stood between Loyal and the exit confidently, but not defiantly.

Definitley not defiant. His gaze briefly lingered on the body. Definitley not defiant.

Loyal smirked, and prepared a knife to throw at this victim if he made any stupid movements. "Whyever should I do that? It's wrong to blow up occupied buildings, potentially killing many. What pony would even think about doing such an act? One that is completely sick in the head." She gave a mock gasp of horror as she approached the janitor. "But that's only during peacetime, isn't it? Those very same actions during war...they're glorified and venerated. Murderers and psychopaths, hailed as heroes. All is fair in loving war...and I'm loving war."

She held up the switch, "A small flick, and I make history! Just think of the books to come...'On this date, the main base of the resistance was blown up by infiltrators'...etc, etc. The UAE will take credit, probably, in a vain attempt to look more competant than they are. How sad."

Loyal smiled. "Here's how it's going to be. You are going to look for where I hid the explosive in this mess, whilst I walk out if here. If you manage to find it, and disarm it, good for you. But when I leave the base entirely...well, you can guess."

She paused. "Or you can try and stop me, we fight, the switch is activated and we both get blown up anyway. Your call."

"Okay."
Ozy smiled queasily.
This was not 1000 years ago. if it was he would have walked in and stabbed her to death in a heartbeat.

Well thats still an option.

But this isn't 1000 years ago, and it probably wont end the way he hoped.

"Okay." He repeated.

"First of all, this is not a war. War is when a country says to another: 'hey, we want your stuff.' and they fight and fight and eventually one country wins. This is a conflict. nopony has officially declared war on anypony."

Great, act like a smartass. That will get you out of this really fast.

"OzyManedais, prohibere fodiendo altius et posuit shovel foramen descendere..." He muttered to himself before returning his attention to the knife wielding psychopath.

"But anyway. You could... easily... do those things... or you could... you know... NOT."

Gesticulating, he sat down, still inbetween Prudence and the door.

"Look, Both sides are idiots. You are a smart pony, and you know that. The rebels are a bunch of naive ninnies who can barely be called an army, and the U.E.A. has its head too far up their asses toe even do anything about it." OzyManedias had given up.

"Blowing up the base would be pointless, seeing as how a majority of the fighting force is out. So you blow up the base. They will make a new one. and when you blow up that base they will make another." He sighed as he scratched the collar of the jumpsuit and hoofed the pocket that held his Prized Possession. Maybe... no he hadn't even touched the damn thing in a millenium.

"I'm not a stupid child, and I am not a foolish toy soldier. I just play the game. If this war is good for anything, its for giving the right pony in the right place loads of money." He rifled through a bag and produced a very large sack, he (very very slowly) tossed it on the floor, and a couple of bits fell out.

"Hypothetically speaking, if you could persuaded not to do something, how much money would it take for you to take that bomb and throw it in the closest river?"

Loyal looked offended. "And, what, pray tell, am I supposed to do with that? Buy a boat to fish in when I retire, mayhaps?. Bits are merely a dream that the stupid are content with. No, war is good for death. That's why we are so fond of it, despite all its supposed horror." She tossed the remote and caught it again.

"I am a servant of death, but I do some contract work for destruction on the side. Thus we are at a bit of an impasse. You, for some reason, want this 'pointless' base to still stand. I want it to be nothing but rubble. If you want to be in the 'right' place..." She flicked a switch, causing the remote to beep once. "...I suggest you run. You've got five minutes, or even sooner, if I flick this switch again."

She pointed her knife at Ozy, slowing approaching him. "If they build again, then I can kill even more ponies, so let them reconstruct. So, pony of bits, are you going to run along like a good pony, or do you reckon the grim reaper has a price?"

OzyManedias cringed at the sound of the beep, but then...

A sudden epiphany.

He didn't have to die!

She just had to die!

His nose wrinkled in disgust, like he was smelling rotten eggs. "Oh Lord your one of those 'I am become death'-egomaniac-God-Complex types." He sighed and shook his head. His wing reached up into the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

"So, pony of bits, are you going to run along like a good pony, or do you reckon the grim reaper has a price?"


He chuckled as he drew out a blade.

The dagger was beautifully crafted, the blade gently curved into a petite point met by a strong and straight spine. The quillion curved upwards and had a ring of steel conjoined on one end. The grip was wood, with a silver wire inlay. The pommel was a green gemstone sharpened to a pyramid point. the wing-guard was slim, far too slim for a hoof to slip through. But perfect for a wing.

He deftly twirled his Prized Possession. It was just as sharp, just as perfect as the day he found it. He could still remember the burn of the still cooling metal on his wing.

"I have had the good fortune of cheating the Grim Reaper once, I've always wanted to see if I could do so again."

He took off his baseball cap, revealing his golden eyes and black mane. "Besides..." his hooves shifted into a more comfortable position, perfect for a charge, or a leap, or a riposte. Perfect for anything, really.

"...I never really was good at being a 'good pony.'"

Loyal's eyes widened as her lips curled into a grin. She dropped her small bag of bandages. They would only weigh her down.

"Really?" she said in an aroused voice, "That makes two of us."

She threw the remote up into the air, knowing that if it hit the ground, the bomb would almost certainly activate, blowing the base sky high.

Then she attacked.

BGM: The Ground's Color is Yellow https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EV-H1zJbKk&sns=em

Though insane, Loyal was not a fool. She knew that Mr Bits would have some proficiency with a blade, especially considering he had a knife specially tailored for his wing. If she had the time, she'd laugh at the excess extravagance of the thing. A blade was a blade was a blade. Hedonistic decorations simply made it easier to see. Furthermore, it was one of a kind. Being attached to one weapon? Stupid. It left you with distinct disadvantages.

So she prepared another blade in her other hoof to follow up her first strike's inevitable counter. She was relying on Mr Bits' desire to live to play to her advantage here, for reasons twofold. Firstly, he would fight defensively, prioritising saving his own skin over putting down the sadistic killer.Second, he'd be somewhat concerned as the remote started to tumble into a descent. If he focused on Loyal, the remote would hit the ground, blowing both of them to history. If he focused on catching the remote, flying or otherwise, it would leave him open for Loyal's vicious surgery.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Loyal was mistaken. They didn't have five minutes. They had two.

((Classy BGM, I leik))
Luckily for OzyManedias, Loyal was mistaken about a couple of things

1: He was not worried about the remote, He was more worried about the psychopath attempting to kill him. The remote would have to sort itself out. OzyManedias actually was starting to think there never was a bomb, and Loyal was playing him for a fool. Five minutes was all he needed (Unfortunately, five minutes he did not have.)

2: To OzyManedias, a good offense is the best defense. an opponent couldn't very well attack if they were too busy trying to stay alive.

and 3: Loyal was prepared for OzyManedias to fly.

OzyManedias had never flown in his life.

OzyManedias jumped above Loyal, flipping around to the rear of the Psycho-Maid. landing deftly, he launching into a series of jabs and thrusts pointed at her knees, chest, and neck. His wing became a blur as his hoofwork advanced him uncomfortably close to Loyal.

(Trying to work out the anatomy of ponies fighting is somewhat difficult. Especially when wings are involved. Makes for a bit of a challenge.)

As Loyal's momentum kept her moving forward, she felt a slash across her flank. The cut went cleanly across her clothes, revealing a scythe cutie mark. She turned as she skidded, blocking her foes slashes as she went. She grinned to surpress the pain as her flank hit the door, the force opening them halfway.

It was precisely then that the remote ended its voyage, hitting the ground between the two knife wielding opponents with some force. Enough force to shatter it.

Loyal stared at it in disbelief as the wires and metal and plastic holding the thing together fragmented, the pieces flying apart dramatically. Her smile dropped.

"That was disa-"

Then the world exploded.

---

It was always a dangerous thing, keeping a number of things designed to explode and cause harm all in one place. As the bomb triggered, it was really quite a small 'pop'. However, it was followed by another pop. And another. And another, and even more, all increasing in size extremely rapidly. The occupants of the base, the wounded, the cooks, the support, the planners, the fighters at rest, the families of the rebels that were in hiding...out of all of them, only two ponies saw it coming, and they were near the epicentre of the blast.

If one were to observe it from a distance, they would note the lack of visible flames as it was very much a dirty explosion, kicking up dust that would settle in nearby residences. But though the fire was unseen, the smoke lasted long after. Anypony thatwould examine the base would find it a charred and smoking wreck. Those with the stomach to search through the rubble would find bodies, few fully intact, none breathing.

The lucky ones died instantly. The more unfortunate had a long and drawn out demise, as they prayed for it all to end as life struggled out of them. Only the razing of Trottingham was greater in its bloodlust for the entire conflict. If she saw it, Loyal would be proud of her achievement. Worse were the amount of deadly chemicals that were released from the explosion, as there had been some exotically deadly materials that were stored in the base. Some went with the smoke in the air, to inhaled by ponies that tried to search for survivors. The even subtler ones seeped into the ground, where it would be washed into the rivers, where it would claim those foolish or unlucky enough to drink or bathe in the tainted water. Wildlife would refuse to approach for many months after the fact, and the area was never quite the same again.

Such was the price of war. Always too much.

OzyManedias did not really know what he was doing. All he knew was he had to save something.

The following takes place in around five seconds.

the bomb was real. Very very real and in a couple milliseconds it would go off and Ms. Pessimism and Ozy were going to die.

He grabbed the maid by the collar of her uniform and full body tackled her out of the armory and shielded her with his body. the door slammed shut as the bomb went off. Not that it really mattered. Another millisecond and a blast took a chunk of concrete from the wall, but the door held. Shrapnel blasted a hole in the ceiling. The ammunition started to go off, bullets whizzed out of the hole, and the door blasted into OzyManedias, throwing him and Loyal literally sky high. He only had a moment to glance at the slowly growing explosion ripping through the rebel base.

Oh god oh god we are going to die this is it.

Back in real time. OzyManedias realized that they would only be in the air so long before the impromptu hovercraft plummeted back into the inferno. He notice a nearby cumulus cloud and decided out of all of the options, that was the best. He grabbed the maid and jumped onto the fluffy cloud, which started to float away swiftly with the gusts from the explosion.

OzyManedias was a pegasus, able to fly or not, he was able to stand on and manipulate clouds. Earth ponies, like Loyal, could not.

OzyManedias felt Loyal sinking like a pony who could not stand on clouds, and held on with all of his average and mediocre strength. This was not enough, and he could feel her slipping through his week hooves, pulling him with her. "No no no no! subsisto labentibus!" He yelled over the roar of a chemical fire. Bullets and ordnance started to spring from the fire skyward, hitting OzyManedias in the chest a couple of times.

The pegasus went limp, slowly oozing through the cloud and falling with Loyal.

They landed a kilometer away from the still burning base. OzyManedias lay on the ground, singed, battered, broken, and shot in a couple of places. He couldn't talk, just weakly twitch his hoof in Loyal's general direction and make huffing noises. He coughed up a little bit of blood as his eyes started to glaze over.

These series of twitches and coughs could have easily meant:
"Your welcome you ungrateful Filia vile prostibulum."
Or it could mean:
"Please don't kill me while I am slowly bleeding to death. that would not be polite."
Or it could mean:
"I told you that was a very bad idea!"
Or it could mean:
"You owe me one, a very large, very numerous one."


Or it could mean all that.

The explosion could be seen from miles around. The surprisingly small amount of flames accompanying a large explosion of earth followed by the plumes of thick black smoke rising into the sky were visible from further than Canterlot. Smith Wesson was closer than that.

Having arrived at the rebel base earlier, the earth pony had taken the opportunity to patrol past the perimeters of the base. Really, this was an excuse for him to set up camp, to disassociate himself from the war. Wesson had set up his tent and fireplace in a covered wooded area a few klicks away. Despite this, he could still feel the heat and the shockwave of the explosion.

When Wesson recovered from the shock of the blast, he immediately feared the truth. Before he set off, he ensured his revolver was loaded and wrapped a cloth around his face to help prevent intact of dust and chemicals.

His arrival at the furtherest boundaries of the wreckage (he dared not go closer in case of unseen dangers) only confirmed Wesson's suspicions. In the distance, he could see the smouldering ruins of the rebel base. Such a huge amount of wasted life, both soldiers and innocents. Some would argue this was the price of war. But Smith Wesson didn't see it as such. This was closer to genocide.

Wesson slowly scoured some of the wreckage, in the unlikely event of any survivors.

In her heart of hearts, Loyal didn't think she would die.

Granted, she had no idea how she would survive, but here she was, sore, bruised but whole and breathing. Also concious. That was unexpected. It ached to move, so she took it slowly. There wasn't any rush. More haste, less speed, or so they said. The important thing was to constantly move forward into an upright position, and to keep breathing.

Was anything broken? Loyal felt something should have shattered. The base should have been completely destroyed, after all, so it would be remiss if she wasn't siginificantly damaged. Hmm. Walking didn't seem like a possibility, not at present. Keep breathing.

Her attention was drawn to the pegasus she was trying to kill not a few moments before, twitching and moaning in what appeared to be great pain, greater than what Loyal was experiencing. This wasn't surprising as he looked horrible. The mare gazed at the broken pegasus for several seconds. It was a sight she was all too familar with. A pony in agony, not being able to speak, but she understood perfectly what they were saying.

Please. Mercy. Stop the pain. Kill me.

It was a request that she had never been able to ignore. With effort, she pulled out a knife, and started crawling towards her patient.

((Seeing as how Smith is not where Ozy and Loyal are, I am going to go ahead and post))

As Loyal drew the knife, OzyManedias' eyes widened suddenly. He fumbled with his jumpsuit and finally unzipped it after a while. Underneath, a sheet of leather armor stopped three bullets from penetrating the vital parts of his body, he pawed at a buckle for another painful second before it popped off.

Air streamed into OzyManedias' lungs as he took a deep breath in, life flowing back into him.

"Wait!" was all he could manage right now. "Fine... Will be..." He lay on his back as he gulped air down, coughing and sputtering. "S'pretty... very impolite..." He had another coughing bit. Definitely a broken rib, but that would be addressed later. "...to kill your savior." He felt a whole lot better without being smothered by the leather breastplate.

"At least the minute after he saved you." other than a couple of burns, a few bullet holes, and a broken bone, OzyManedias was alright. He had come back from worse. He painfully sat up, but didn't have the strength to stand.

"Are you alright?" It felt strange asking that to the pony who was about to kill him, but he wanted to make sure his efforts were not for nothing.

A large explosion could be heard as it rang noisily through the air, causing the Earth to shake slightly and Package's ears to produce a high-pitched ringing. The Pegasus winced slightly at the sudden change in sound. Ow. In the distance, the stallion could see smoke rising up from the ground, and for a second he wondered where it was originating from before something clicked in his head. That's the base!

Package began to gallop towards the explosion's source, quickly confirming that the large blast had indeed been centered on the Rebels' main base of operations. Oh, that's just not good at all... There were no flames burning within the newly made ruins of the base, but the force of the explosion was quite obvious, as almost the whole Rebel headquarters had been mostly destroyed, along with the area around it up to at least a mile radius. There was no longer any plants, animals or ponies to be seen in the area, and Package was actually slightly curious as to what could have caused such a devastating explosion. That curiosity quickly faded, however, as the Pegasus quickly grew worried about the victims that had been in the base during this event.

Taking a moment to tighten his sniper rifle's strap, the stallion quickly took to the skies, flying a good half-mile above the newly created ruins and searching for any signs of life. How the heck did this happen? How did an enemy find us in the first place?

"You are in pain," Loyal said almost tenderly, like how a mother would address her sick child, "Do not fear. I will make it stop."

Her own pain dulled in the face of her task, freeing up her movements. Her progression towards her target became fluid. She smiled a loving smile as she raised her knife, ready to bring it down in a life-ending slice. She still couldn't stand completely upright, so she was being dragged by an internal sense of duty and purpose.

(Short, but it will have to do.)

OzyManedias was in no mood for Loyal's supposed 'mercy.'

As she brought her knife up, OzyManedias, with strength unfound in a pony with injuries as sever as he had, sprung up. He caught grabbed both her hooves and held her down.

"I have a much better idea." OzyManedias' wing snaked between them, something cold, metallic, and round pressed against Loyal's chest.

"How about you put that knife down, and I don't blow your cold, messed-up heart out. Assuming you have one. If you don't I will definitely hit your spinal column." The snub-nose revolver was a last resort sort of deal, and he was certainly thankful it had remained unexploded. "Because I wager that before you can get your knife to my neck, I can pull this trigger." His golden eyes stared into hers with a mixture of respect, fear, and determination.

Something clicked in his mind. The maid getup, the knife obsession, the psychopathic tendencies. Before this whole messy war began, he remembered hearing about a family in Manehattan that employed maids who could fight like demons. They also claimed that they were immortal and could breathe fire, but OzyManedias was pretty sure that was not true.

"Do you work for the... The Household?"

He kept a firm grip on the revolver, but continued.

"You do, don't you? I've heard of them a couple of times through the grape vine. Nothing after the war started. What are you doing so far from your employers?"

In another world, another plane, the name 'the Household' would have meant something to Loyal. Here, and now, it was just another thing that she neither knew nor cared about. She giggled, twirling the knife around in her hoof.

"Heard it through the grapevine~" she sang in reply, "Not much longer will you be mine~ Ooh~ Heard it through the grapevine~" She giggled again before she could continue singing.Her eyes were unfocused, looking at something that wasn't really there.

Her face turned serious. "Now, mum, it's been a long day and you should really go to bed now. Rest can only do your heart good, okay. There's a good filly." Another giggle. "Yes, I know it's silly, a daughter calling her mother a filly. And I didn't intend that to rhyme okay? It just kinda happened. But serious, mum, you should really go to bed. Things will be better in the morning, I promise. Just...rest peacefully, kay?"

The forehoof not holding the knife slowly went to gently tug at the wing holding the revolver at her chest. "Remember the story you used to tell me for bedtime? The one about the Windigo Queen? How about I read it for you instead? I can read most of the words."

Loyal's face changed into that of a kind, elderly mare, with a silver mane, and golden eyes.

The way she talked...

"Mother?"
OzyManedias shook his head of the hallucination. One crazy pony was enough.

Whatever this mare was doing, It was working. OzyManedias couldn't tell if she was insane, trying to scare him, or in a stupor due to blood loss.

Possibly all three. Ozy's eyes widened. His heartbeat quickened. His wing trembled. "Stop that. Stop talking like that."

"OzyManedias? what are you doing in your father's chamber?"

"Go to bed, Mother."

"What is that?"

"I said go to bed."

"Why are you... Ozy what do you think your doing? I will call the guards! Guards! Guards! Gua-"

"Why didnt you just go to bed, like I told you to, Mother?"

OzyMandias' head reeled from the memory. He brought the pistol around and slammed it across her face. Hard. He returned the gun to her breast. He licked chapped lips and breathed heavily. He didnt notice the tears falling down his face onto Loyal.
"I said stop it."
He kicked her hoof away from his gun-wing.
"You will stop. Or I will strike you again."

Most ponies wouldn't dare tread on the ruined earth that Wesson currently found himself on. The remains of the base and the ponies occupying it surrounded him. In the distance he could make out a few specks on the distant hills and in the sky; most likely other curious ponies. With every step he took, he was aware of what he may be stepping on. In his time, Smith Wesson had seen more than his fair share of violence. But this time, his stone cold look was betrayed by his eyes. While no tears were shred, nor was there an overwhelming sense of emotion, there was an undeniable pained look within.

The distinctive sound of speaking suddenly reached his ears, which perked up to pick out the noise. Smith Wesson slowly set his path towards it and eventually caught sight of the source. Two ponies, one on top of the other, holding them down. Wesson drew his revolver and held it up to aim down the sights before silently trotting over. He approached from the side and it wasn't until he was closer until surprise caught him off guard.

Holding a mare down, was a pony he recognised. While he looked badly injured and much different from their last meeting, Smith Wesson could tell it was Vassalus Vassago, or at least that was the name he had given.

With his sights already levelled at the two ponies, Wesson pulled back the gun's hammer with an audible click.
"Hold it right there..."

As Package flew around high above the ruins of the recently destroyed headquarters, he picked up movement from the corner of his eye, and turned his head to see that there were some small figures visible near the outskirts of the blast. They were too close to have been spectators, and the Pegasus found himself hoping that he had found some survivors. Even if a small group of ponies only made up a thousandth of the original population of the Rebel base, it was still better than nothing.

The Stallion dipped his wings and flew downwards at an angle toward the figures, soon making out their general shapes and seeing that there were in fact three ponies there. Coming even closer, he realized that he knew two of them: one was Smith Wesson, a fellow rebel and previous temporary partner, who was apparently trying to sneak up on the other two ponies in the group. The second pony that he recognized seemed to be holding down an unknown mare, and was in fact Vassalus Vassago, a suspicious stranger that he had recently met during his previously assigned mission with Smith.

Two vague and unconscious thoughts clicked together in Package's head, and the pony narrowed his eyes once he had recognized the other Pegasus, taking his sniper rifle off of his back and making sure it was ready to fire. Oh, he'd better not have... Rather than approaching any closer, the Pegasus stayed far enough away so that he was not visible to anyone but those who would actually take the time look for him, hovering at a still fairly high elevation and observing Smith to see what the Earth Pony would do.

Loyal's flashback was violently broken when she was struck, collapsing in the dust. There were several seconds of ragged breathing before she gasped, "You know, there's nothing stopping you from pulling that trigger." She pulled her face into a tired sneer, which lasted for second before collapsing into an expression that was just tired. "What's another death to add to the butcher's bill?" She smiled and coughed. "No money here, Mr Bits. No 'naive rebel ninnies' to con, no U.E.A to grace you with gold, just death. If you're so interested in 'playing the game', let me tell you the rules. You can't win, you can't break even, and you can't-"

Click.

The sound of a gun being cocked drew her attention, as did the following order to stay still. As such, the mare held her tongue as she smiled sardonically at the new arrival. A rebel, probably. Loyal thought she recognised him from hanging around the base that was currently in ruins. His name was one she didn't recall, he probably wasn't of any importance then.

Now, he was of somewhat greater priority, being both armed and whole. Loyal didn't really know what he would make of the scene in front of him. It would be somewhat depressing to anypony with a shred of faith in the goodness of ponykind. Right in the aftermath of a great disaster, two survivors trying to kill each other. What was the saying? 'As long as there was two ponies left on the Earth, somepony is going to want the other dead'? This was a perfect picture of that cynical observation.

As much as she would hate to ruin such a work of art, Loyal dropped her knife, kicking up dust as it hit the ground. "Not holding anything, sir," she wheezed, then coughed, "Are you the rescue party?"

The more Loyal talked, the more OzyManedias wanted nothing more than to put a bullet into her. At least she stopped acting insane.

Well...

less insane.

If that was possible.

"Non occides. Non occides. Non occides. Non occides. Non occides. Non occides. Non occides. Non occides."

He chanted over and over again quietly as she talked. He would not give in to her. He will remain resolute. This was the right thing to do.

Click.

"Hold it right there..."

OzyManedias' head snapped over to glare at Wesson. If looks could kill then the stallion would have dropped then and there.

The death-glare stopped and was replaced with very visible relief. His wing retracted subtlety and stowed the revolver in the feathers neatly and discreetly. "Oh thank heavens. I thought nopony had survived."

He very shakily got to his hooves, and helped Loyal up, making a point to apply too much pressure to an open cut.

"Sorry, Miss... I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name in all this confusion." Now that a familiar face was present, he relaxed slightly. His wing still was ready to spring open to fire on the maid, but he relaxed.

Smith Wesson took his time, purposefully moving slowly, allowing him plenty of time to think. He stepped slightly to side to get a better angle on viewing both of the ponies in front of him in an attempt to better identify them. The mare was a complete mystery to him, although admittedly he didn't know every single rebel in Equestria.

But Wesson certainly recognised the Vassalus. He had been in the desert outside Appleloosa, after he had injured Silver Spur. He remembered that the pegasus had seemed insistent on going to the rebel base. Could he have...?

The pieces seemed to set in Wesson's mind as the rubble around him and the pegasus standing before him connected. He aimed his revolver specifically the pegasus, a rare display of suppressed anger shown on his face.

"You, Vassalus. Ya got ten seconds to explain what the hay you did here, and don't ya dare lie to me, 'else you wanna be buried here."

Torna came flying from Ponyville. No, no, no! This couldn't be happening! It could NOT be happening. A bomb! The base! Everything just gone! Oh no, oh no, oh no! Torna flew as fast as her wings could take her to the base, rather, the ruins of it. She saw a thick layer of dust covering the place. Out of total disregard, she landed and ran through trying to find one survivor. Who would do this? Torna asked herself that question repeatedly as she only just then came to the sudden realization, the fridge horror, she was walking on her allies. She started freaking out, trying to rid her hooves of ashes and dust. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust has never been so literal. She was panicking, on the verge of crying for all those lost. She heard voices somewhere, but was unable to locate them. She hovered around in a panic to find the source, whether it be friend or foe. Is this the end of Torna? What if they ARE foes? Will she be shot on sight? Will she be thought a citizen and put into and early draft? Or worse, what if they try to stop her from telling the people of this horror and hide it? Take her into custody, lock her from society, make her disappear? These thoughts raced as she looked. Despite the sheer horror of the thoughts, she welcomed them and embraced them just to see one living face.