Olivia was in the range, the newest section of the base constructed at her request. The stone here still had that shiny, segmented look, reflecting the recently-printed adhesive of the construction process. The Forerunner had apparently not considered firearms proficiency to be important enough to be worth maintaining—clearly it hadn't been paying much attention to the world they lived on. Equestria was a dangerous place, and it was her responsibility to keep her crew alive. Somehow. God only knows what I'm supposed to do as a talking horse.