Fallout: Equestria - Old Grudges

The next few days marked a noticeable change among everyone aboard the Dauntless. Her crew had been on edge ever since Vanilla explained what had prompted this whole trip in the first place, but none of them were more so on edge than Captain Wingnut. He keeps a cool face on when he’s dealing with anypony, even his crew. However, I could almost see his tension snap back into place the second he thought nopony would notice how worried he actually felt. Unfortunately for him, I’m a great judge of character.

I on the other hoof, have been spending more time outside the cabin. Mostly on account that my new bunk mate is both Mrs. Cap’s husband, and while knowledgeable about all sorts of things, he tended to irritate me anytime I opened my muzzle. Most of the time I escaped to the Galley or rec room to relax. Yesterday in fact, I even got into a deep discussion over lunch with Infrasound about the some of the common pitfalls of writing adventure novels like Daring Doo. That is, right until Astrolabe walked in and she was once again quiet as a mouse.

Sometimes I even made my way down to the engine room and spent a while just talking with Gauge and Matrix a bit. Just about everything they say to each other flies so far above my head I’m sure the Enclave above the clouds is confused. Still, it’s interesting to see just how they work as a team on things, working endlessly to keep us flying up above the ground. Even got my pipbuck back from them. Can’t say I noticed anything different with it, but I’d have to take them at their word that they ‘cleaned it’ as they’d promised.

On that, I’m not going to say I’ve lost my fear of flying. However, I will admit that I’ve become more comfortable than I was with it. Hell, I even let Bluejay open the window to my cabin a few days ago, to which I immediately regretted. She made me dinner to apologize, saying she should have known, but I don’t think she was at fault. Really, things since the raider attack have been tense, yes. However, the closer we’ve gotten to our destination, the bigger the pit in my gut feels like it’s been growing. Of course nopony could predict what we’d find when we arrived. However I just feel like I should be prepared for anything...

“Sawyer?” Vanilla canted her head as she smiled from across the cabin. She snapped me out of the daze I’d fallen into since waking up this morning. With a few blinks of confusion to her, the whole ship shuddered momentarily before the humming of hydraulics came through the wall. “We have arrived at the Truce City outskirts.”

The lurching feeling of landing made my stomach do flips. I let out a groan, flopping on my side on top of my bed. I waited to move again until I felt the jolt of us setting back down onto solid ground. With a shuddering strong enough to nearly throw Vanilla off her hooves, we finally touched down.

“Alright, give me a few to get my things on.” I sighed as I scooted myself toward the end of the bed.

“Very well then.” Vanilla nodded. “I will await you in the cargo hold.” Turning, she left the cabin without another word.

Finally rolling off the bed and onto my hooves, I stretched my legs a bit and let out a long yawn. After five days in the air, it was going to be good to feel the dirt under my hooves again. At least this place doesn’t have some giant plant worshiping cult. A knock on the door caught my attention as I wrapped my levitation around my coat and saddlebags.

“Yes?” I called out, draping my coat over me and stepping through the foreleg sleeves.

“You almost ready, Sawyer?” Bluejay chimed as she stuck her head in. Lifting the back of my coat up and setting my saddlebags down over my back, I gave her a flat expression. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She offered a nervous smile. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something…” She trailed off.

“What is it?” I asked, grabbing my revolver and it’s holster with my magic next.

“You’ve been spending a… bit of time with Infrasound.” The way she said that implied something I wasn’t sure was her business to ask, as misguided and wrong as it was. “Do… you like her?”

Shrugging, I focused myself on buckling the leather strapped holster to myself. “We’ve mostly just talked about literary things.” With a tug, I made sure the holster was secure before slipping my revolver into it. “But to answer you, no I don’t.” With a sigh I looked over to her with a slight frown. “Besides, she has interests in another pony.” Cocking an eyebrow at her, my frown flipped to a smirk. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just…” She fumbled over her words with a dismissive wave. “Other than dinner and a few chats, I haven’t really seen you in the last few days is all.” Chuckling to herself she gave her head a nod toward down the hall. “We should get going. Mystery to solve and a job to do.” Turning around to leave, she stopped herself and turned back around, looking at me softly for a moment. “You know, I’m glad we met up again. I’ve kinda missed having a good friend around.” Scrunching her face up for a moment, she added to that. “Other than Skeleton Key, that is.”

“And the oh so delightful Mrs. Cap?” I smirked and trotted forward to the door.

“She’s… a bit rough around the edges, sure.” She laughed a bit, seeming to open up a bit more. “She’s a good mare, she just takes some getting used to is all.” Letting me out and shutting the door behind me, she then pointed to her cabin. “Gotta stop by for a moment before we head out.”

“Well, if it’s any longer than it takes for her husband to stop being annoying, I might just say fuck it.” Grumbling, we stopped in front of her cabin for a moment. With a light knock, she popped open the door like she did with me. Only when she did, Skeleton Key wormed her way out into the hall. Almost immediately she was out of sight into the stairwell.

“Hey, be careful out there, Skeleton!” Bluejay called out as the little filly’s hoofsteps rang out from down the steps. Looking over to me, she must have noticed that I had no fucking clue what that was all about. “I talked to Gauge and we both thought her and Matrix could spend some time outside playing around. You know, like foals should.”

“Ah, yeah.” Nodding, memories of playtime in the stable flashed in my mind for only a moment. Sighing, I leaned against her. “You know, I miss it some days. The feel of orchard grass under our hooves, the relaxing warmth of the stable’s lighting. It sure was nice back then.”

“Yeah. Me too.” She nodded sadly before shutting her cabin door. “But, no time for nostalgia. We’ve got work to do.”

“That we do.” I agreed, turning and heading for the stairwell.

Trotting across the dusty ground outside of town, Bluejay, Vanilla, and I made our way over to where Mr and Mrs. Cap were standing. A stick with a piece of cloth tied around it marked the scene of where Swift had died. Looking around us, the valley was just as barren as the rest of the wastes. The ruins of Truce City lay ahead of us, and a few collapsed brick buildings marked the entrance by about a hundred feet or so away from us. All around outside of that, were open plains marked with various boulders and such, the closest of which was a thousand feet off.

“Yeah, it’s what I thought.” Mrs. Cap called out as we approached. “From what your machine said about the storm that night, rains washed away pretty much all traces of anything if there was one.” Stepping back from the stick, she turned to us. “Even ever there had been something here, the guards that found your mare would have trampled all over the tracks anyway.” Turning to me, she snorted. “You sure your machine got an accurate report? That the guards didn’t kill her and cover it up?”

“Her name is Vanilla.” What was up with this mare’s attitude? “Vanilla wouldn’t have overlooked the fabrication of evidence. If she said there wasn’t any evidence, there wasn’t.” Looking over at Vanilla, she looked contented to keep her smiling muzzle shut for now. Sometimes I wondered just what went on in her head.

Seemingly alright with my answer, Mrs. Cap rolled her eyes and looked back to Bluejay. “Just making sure.” With a nod towards the town she cracked a devilish smirk. “Only lead left is to shake down the last pony to see her alive.”

“It’s been more than a week.” Bluejay shrugged. “It’s doubtful that he’ll remember anything.”

“If it would be agreeable,” Vanilla finally spoke up. As she did, she drew an evil eye from Mrs. Cap. “Mr. Caltrop and I could go talk to the guards that found her to see if they can remember any pertinent information about that night.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Bluejay spoke up quickly. I could tell that she could feel the tension between Mrs. Cap and Vanilla, and honestly I’m glad she acted on it. “Sawyer, why don’t you go with them?”

I shook my head. “No. If we’re splitting up, I’m sure Eighth Note would want his assets spread evenly.” I don’t know why, but Bluejay cringed as I spoke. “So I’m sticking with you.”

“Don’t care.” Mrs. Cap grumbled and turned around. At a quick trot that made her cyberlegs whine, she headed into town. “You both coming or what?” Trotting forward, Bluejay and I decided to stick a ways back from Mrs. Cap.

“What’s her problem with Vanilla?” I’m not normally one to care about making myself as much of an obnoxious asshole when it comes to ponies I don’t like, but not every day you have to sleep on a flying ship with them one room over. Needless to say, I kept my voice to a whisper. “What did Vanilla ever do to her?”

“You see those cyberlegs? Ever wonder why she has them?” Bluejay asked in a whisper as well. “Well, let’s just say that PC hasn’t had the best time around robots in her life.”

“Vanilla is the nicest mare I know!” I don’t care if a raider shot me before. It doesn’t mean I’d be an asshole to any raider looking pony willing to pay for my drinks at a bar. Doesn’t mean I trust them, but still, common courtesy to tolerate outsiders is what separates us from the primitives and the actual raiders. “There’s no reason she deserves that kind of slander against her.”

“This coming from the pony that just called himself ‘Eighth Note’s asset’?” Bluejay sighed dejectedly. “Neither you, nor Vanilla are his. You know that, right?”

“Let me stop you right there.” I laughed. “You don’t think I know that he doesn’t control me?”

“That’s not what I…” She spoke up again, but I cut her off.

“Look, I use Eighth as much as he uses me.” Pointing my hoof back to the ship. “If you knew how many times just saying he owns me has saved my life, you’d shut up and start using that excuse as well.” Shaking my head, I trotted faster, pushing myself up into a canter. “You may act all high and mighty sometimes, Bluejay, but you better watch yourself. One of these days, the enclave is going to notice you’ve got your head way above their clouds!”

It was a cheap tactic to pull the rug out from under her argument like that, but now wasn’t the time to debate the morality of being ‘owned’ by Eighth. I’d thought she understood that when I said I was owned, it was more out of obligation than anything. Eighth gave me my freedom, but as stupid of a decision as it was, I wanted to work for him to show my thanks.

As I quickly caught up to Mrs. Cap, I felt like I was in between the two mares I didn’t want to disappoint any more than I already have, so I kept my muzzle shut.

The sign to the only general store in this dump of a ‘city’ hung sadly from the one still attached ring mount in the worn post jutting out from the old brick building. It made the building look almost deserted, as much a ruin as the buildings at the edge of this place did. Now that I thought about it, looking around, I didn’t see a single other pony around…

“This must be the place.” Mrs. Cap spoke up, slowing to a walk. As she reached the door, she grunted and kicked it open quite hard with her forehoof. A startled yelp from inside brought a smirk to Mrs. Cap’s muzzle as she walked in. “Knock Knock. Avon calling.”

“What do you want!?” The stallion inside called out as I followed the brutish unicorn in.

“Hello, I work for Eighth Note.” I spoke up before Mrs. Cap could just as easily brute force her way into an uncooperative store owner. “I’m here because of Swift’s murder. We were hoping to speak to you about it.” Looking about, I found that this ‘shop’ was barely worthy of the name. Shelf after empty shelf lined the walls, and only a few odds and ends were even out for sale. Maybe dump was too strong of a word for this place, as I knew that even though it smelled, Trash Town in the old landfills of Los Pegasus was home to a few hundred ponies. There weren’t really that many here to even call it a village.

“You come to me unannounced,” The voice of a gruff stallion came from behind the foggy glass counter, but I couldn’t see him. With a grunt, I heard the shifting of a stool. “You kick in my door and scare me half to death,” A wobbly, blue coated ghoul pony pulled himself up to the counter. Ragged cracking skin, no mane, and foggy green eyes popped into vision, and it finally struck me that this ghoul was still just a colt. Well, at least he had been whenever he became a ghoul… “And then you have the gall to ask me things?” Well, at least he didn’t have the average voice that came with ghoulishness. Maybe that’s because of his age though.

“Shut it, Trumpet.” Bluejay called out as she walked in through the door. “Just answer their questions and we’ll get going.” Wait, she knew this stallion?

“Ah, Mrs. Bluejay.” Mr. Trumpet answered with a smile. “I’d heard that the local trash was piling up recently. Good to know the junkies weren’t lying about it.” Wow, this kid is full of more snark than Eighth Note after one of my blackout birthday benders. “Now, you see, I’m afraid you all have me confused with somepony who gives a shit. Happens to me all the time in fact, because as you can see by the copious demand for supplies around here, I’m not in the business of charity around here. I run a store here, so if any of you all want something, the pony I need to talk to is Eighth Note’s cap stash. Understand?”

“One hundred caps for your time.” I spoke up. Immediately, I pulled the small ghoul’s attention to me, and a rotten smile grew across his muzzle.

“Now we’re talking.” With a knock on the counter with his hoof, he hopped down from behind the counter and trotted around the far end of the counter. “But I have to say, if this is a negotiation, your opening bid is a bit low.”

“How about we don’t break your legs.” Mrs. Cap grumbled in a way that really wasn’t helping.

“Let’s start with adding the fact that she leaves and never steps hoof in my shop again.” Mr. Trumpet nearly skipped along as he spoke. “Oh, and your goodie fourshoes lapdog can go with her. Then we’ll talk numbers.” Looking back to Bluejay, she let out an annoyed sigh. She nodded to Mrs. Cap, who also sighed and turned around. With a shared glare at the small ghoul, the two of them walked back outside. “Now, assuming that you do in fact work for Eighth Note, what are you offering?”

“Like I said, one hundred caps.” I didn’t know what this stallion was playing at, but the scrunchy face he made spoke much louder than anything he could ever say. Looking back at the way he carried himself this whole time, the jumpy reaction to us, the holding back when it came to those who offered him nothing. It spoke to me on a much different level than just a greedy business pony.

Lowering his voice, he leaned in close to me. “Look, I know Eighth Note has enough resources that it paints a big target on him. What he seems to forget, is that contacts that do him ‘favors’ like I do? We have a bigger target on our backs.”

“You want protection.” I whispered back to him.

“No, I want an all expenses paid trip to Marewaii. Of course I want protection you dimwit.” He seethed and kicked at my forehoof, wincing as he kicked my pipbuck instead. “I’ve liquidated my entire shop in the last few days, so tell you what. You get me a ride out of here, to anywhere on that airship of yours, and I’ll spill all I have on whatever the fuck it is you want to know.” Holding out his forehoof, he looked up to me pleadingly. “Deal?”

Now, it wasn’t my place to promise anything, but seeing as we had literally nothing to go on, I took a chance.

“Deal.” Holding my forehoof out, the small ghoul smiled and shook my hoof. “Now, who else knew about the package that Swift was going to pick up? Anypony at all who came around asking questions or seemed off to you?”

He nodded and let go of my hoof. “Yeah. A couple of stallions came to town the same day I got the shipment. Poked around, spent time at the bar. Didn’t really fit in with the regular crowd. Most ponies avoided them until they left town hours before the murder.”

“Why?” I mean, I get outsiders making ponies uncomfortable, but outright avoiding them?

“Well, it’s not everyday you see pegasi around these parts.” He nodded at my foreleg. “A pair sporting pipbucks as well? Might as well have been a pair of spotlights on them the whole time they were here.”

“Pipbucks? You’re sure?” Eeyup. Shady ponies come to town and a murder occurs? This just turned into a mystery novel if I’d ever read one.

Mr. Trumpet looked offended. “You calling me a liar?” He spat and took a step back. “Go ahead, ask Miss Garnish at the bar. She was the one who told me all about them.” With a sigh, he facehoofed and shook his head. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get my things and then get on the airship.” His posture shifted to one of relaxation as he turned to leave. “Whoever Eighth has made an enemy of this time? They’re putting everypony around Los Pegasus on edge.”

“Wait.” I spoke up, making the ghoul stop in his tracks. “What do you mean? I thought it was just the two stallions you saw.”

“Kid, in the last century I’ve been alive, you learn to see the storm on the horizon.” He called out, looking back over his shoulder. “Rumor lately is, that a pegasus with a pipbuck means that your town is a target. Nopony knows who they are, but when they’re done, there isn’t anything or anypony left when they leave.” Trotting off into the back of his shop, he chuckled to himself. And not the ‘that’s funny’ kind of chuckle, but the kind that sends a chill up your spine. “If I were you, I’d follow most of those who had lived here have already done. Collect whatever caps you can scrape together and head east. Because what’s coming isn’t going to be anything but bad news for everypony in and around Los Pegasus.”

Trotting off into the back room, Mr. Trumpet disappeared down a set of cellar steps as I sat down hard.

I’d thought things may have been odd before, maybe even worrisome. But why is it that now I feel like we’re all in way over our heads now? Just what isn’t Eighth Note telling us?

“So, we’ve got a lead.” I spoke up, trotting away from Trumpet’s shop. Considering the Dauntless was hard to miss outside of town, I trusted him to pack himself up fairly quickly and get over there on his own. “A pair of pegasi who left town the day that Swift died.”

“Sounds promising.” Bluejay nodded. “Fits our theory at least.”

“It get’s better.” I spoke up. “They were both wearing pipbucks.”

“Pipbucks?” Bluejay voiced her concern along with a nervous glance back toward Trumpet’s shop. “Are you sure that’s what he said?” I deadpanned at her to make sure she knew I wasn’t joking. “So then, you think these pegasi that were here are the ones who killed your associate?” Bluejay asked as the three of us turned and headed toward the town’s bar. “Did Trumpet tell you anything more than that?”

“Only that their arrival was taken as a bad omen and most of the town has fled. Most of them think that this place is going to be wiped out soon just like the other places you’ve mentioned being hit recently.” I shrugged, looking over to Mrs. Cap, who had been quiet since she left the store. “What about you? Ever seen or heard anything like this, Mrs. Cap?”

“Just call me PC.” She grunted. “And no. I’ve had a few weird contracts in my time as a bounty hunter, but I’ve never heard about anypony passing through that spooked an entire town. Honestly, I doubt that it’s anything more than a coincidence.” She nodded and glanced past me over at Bluejay. “But something still feels off to me about it, enough to discount coincidence. I think your contact is onto something, because he’s either genuinely scared, or the best liar I’ve seen in years. Either way, you better hope that the Bartender has something good on these two or we’re back to square one.”

Trotting through the dusty, empty streets of the city, I couldn’t shake the feeling that from the dark windows of the ruins here, we were being watched. I did my best not to look into any of them out of fear that I’d actually see something, but as it turns out, a good enough distraction presented itself.

“Heya, hun.” PC’s husband shouted from down the street. Both he and Vanilla shared the same smile as they waited for us to trot up to them. Honestly, it was kinda eerie. “Did yah turn up anythin’ for a lead?”

PC nodded. “We got something, but it isn’t much. What about you, Caltrop?”

“The two guards couldn’t recall anything from that night.” Vanilla spoke up. “However, they did point us in the direction of a Miss. Garnish at the local saloon.”

“That’s what we came up with.” I offered, pointing down the street towards the building in question. “Care to join us?”

Both she and Caltrop nodded and formed up with as as we headed down the street. The bar itself was an old, two story wooden building that like most of the wasteland, had seen better days. The flaking off white paint barely clung to the cracked and dry wooden siding. The windows were cracked and heavily caked in dust, while the doorway itself looked to be held onto the building by about two dozen nails on each side. Surprisingly, the bright red door seemed to be the most intact out of the place, sporting bold, golden letters across it spelling out ‘Martini’s’. Given how it was displayed, I could only assume that it was the name of this place.

Cracking open the door and stepping inside, I found myself surprised by the state of its interior. Other than the slightly musty smell that filled most ruins, the bright interior was lit by completely still working ceiling fans. Stained and lacquered wood floors and walls sheened with an almost impossible luster, and the matte black cloth that covered the bar booths and stools were basically spotless. Behind the impressively large dark wood bartop, was quite the selection of golden and clear alcoholic beverages. Had the wasteland not been a thing three feet away, I would have assumed we stepped both inside, and back in time to before the war. It really made zero difference where I got my drinks, but this place? This is somewhere I could see myself enjoying a drink every night.

“Howdy there, and welcome to Martini’s!” The chipper voice of a mare called out as we all came in. “I’m Martini Garnish, the owner and bartender. Now, what can I do for you fine lot?” The lime green mare with a yellow and orange striped mane set down the glass she’d been cleaning with a rag and stepped out from behind the bar. “Just passing through town?”

“We came for some information on a few ponies, actually.” Bluejay spoke up. “We were told you might be able to help us with it.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” The mare cringed. “See, I don’t normally offer that kind of information to outsiders. Not even for a fee, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Turning around, she quickly walked back behind her bartop.

“It’s about the two pegasi who were in here almost two weeks ago. Supposedly sporting pipbucks.” PC spoke up, making the mare freeze up behind the counter. “We’re pretty sure they killed somepony working for our employer.” It was odd to hear her say that, but technically she wasn’t wrong. “We just need to know anything you can tell us about them and then we’ll be on our way.”

There was a soft clunk as the mare put something down behind the bar. Knowing how most barkeeps were, it was probably a weapon of some sort. “Well now, that is a different sort of circumstance then.” With a sigh, she lost the smile and picked up the rag and cup on the bar again. “I knew those boys were trouble from the moment they walked in. Hardly bought any drinks, didn’t even say anything directly to me past renting one of the rooms I have upstairs.”

“When yah say dey didn’t speak ta yah directly…” Caltrop spoke up. “Yah sayin yah eavesdropped on ‘em?”

Martini nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t catch much of what they were saying.” She shrugged. “Most of what they talked about sounded technical. I couldn’t really catch some of the words they were using,” She paused in thought. Maybe if she could remember what any of those words were, Gauge would know what they were. “but I did know they mentioned heading back to a stable after this. I assumed it was where they got their pipbucks from.”

“A stable?” Bluejay spoke up, catching my glance over to her. “Are you sure?”

“About as sure as we’re going to have cloudy skies tomorrow.” Martini nodded and set down the glass, seeming to think again. “Now, what number did they say again? 13?” My heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, Stable 13 sounds right.”

Turning to Bluejay, I couldn’t believe it. “Do… you know if that’s even possible?”

“I suppose, but I haven’t been back there since I returned to Los Pegasus.” As much as this news worried me, I was at the very least glad that Bluejay looked just as worried about this as I was. “Stable-Tec built them to be inconspicuous, and seeing as it was vacated when we left…”

PC stepped forward and nodded her hat to Martini. “Thanks for the info. We’ll be on our way now.” Turning back to us, she stiffly pointed her hoof toward the door. “Go.”

“Yes ma’am.” Vanilla nodded with a smile and turned around.

We all followed Vanilla back out the door and onto the road out of town. Trotting alongside Bluejay, I didn’t know what to say. Really, I didn’t know how I felt about hearing what we did. I remember so little about the stable that I really shouldn’t care this much. Instinctively grasping my mother’s locket in my magic, I pressed it close to my chest.

“It’s alright, Sawyer.” Bluejay spoke up softly as we walked. Looking over at her, she shared a warm but sad smile and a soft gaze. “We’ll go back and figure this out together, alright?”

“Sure.” I offered in return. Again, for the hundredth time, I had to ask myself why oh why I had to come on this stupid trip…

“Sawyer?” Gauge called out from the edge of the Dauntless’s ramp. “Please don’t tell me you actually said this kid could go with us?”

“Hey, bitch, I’m a hundred and three. I’m not the kid here.” Trumpet snapped at her before turning to me. “And you fucking promised me a ride outta this fucking town.”

“Gauge, he’s coming with us only to the next stop.” I sighed as we all piled up the ramp and into the cargo bay.

“Wingnut doesn’t like last minute shit like this, and for the record, neither do I.” Gauge huffed and glared at the small ghoul.

“If Wingnut doesn’t like it, then he can take it up with Eighth Note.” I didn’t know why this had to be such a big deal. It was just a colt sized ghoul.

“Thank’s, kid.” Trumpet wore a shit eating grin as he looked back to Gauge. “Now, who’s going to go get my stuff from my shop?” Almost as soon as he’d said that, the cargo bay hydraulics whirred to life and the door raised behind us. “Hey, what fucking gives?”

“Well, Trumpet, let me see if I can guess.” Bluejay said, turning to me. “He asked you to get him a ride out, right?” Glancing back at the ghoul, she smirked. “As in, just him?”

“Hey, now that isn’t fair!” Trumpet snapped.

Honestly, I couldn’t care right now. “Look, I’m getting you out of here like I said I would. If you forgot to bring your shit, or you didn’t pack enough. Tough luck.” Using my forehoof, I shoved the annoying ghoul out of the way and hooked my forehooves around the door to the stairwell. “But right now, I’ve got a job to do, so shut up and stay out of the way.” With a twist and a yank, I opened it up and headed upstairs to the bridge.

“Sawyer, are you feeling alright?” Vanilla spoke up as she trotted up alongside me on the stairs.

“Just… not happy with where we have to go.” I muttered and pushed myself to climb. A moment later, both Vanilla and I exited onto the bridge. Clearing my throat, I called out to Wingnut’s chair. “Alright, Captain. I know where we’re going.”

“Ah-hem.” The voice of a stallion speaking from over near Infrasound’s station caught my attention. Looking over, I saw Wingnut, Infrasound, and a very annoyed looking Eighth Note on a large viewscreen next to them. “Sawyer. Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“Eighth?” I asked before looking over at Vanilla. She simply smiled at me like she did. I’d have to remind her to please inform me whenever he was actively calling the ship while we were here. You know, in case I wanted to shout obscenities about just how fucking ridiculous this whole trip has been.

“As I was just telling Captain Wingnut here, your next destination is in the northern Crystal Range. A settlement called Nether.” Eighth Note spoke promptly into the viewscreen. “I have intercepted intelligence that points that whoever stole my package is going to attempt to pawn it off there to the owner of the city for quite a large sum. I expect you to find them and get it back. Forcefully, if necessary.”

“What?” I spoke up. “You expect us to just barge in there and take your… whatever it is from somepony who owns a whole town?” I felt a nervous laugh bubble up through my muzzle. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Eighth. Of all the stupid…”

“Oh, I’m far from kidding, Sawyer.” He cut me off sternly. “I expect you to get it back, because if you don’t keep it out of the wrong hooves…”

“Then what?” I cut him off for once. The smug asshole needed to be reminded sometimes that he wasn’t too above the rest of us around here. “We don’t even know what it is that we’re going after! Why should we even risk our lives to get it back?”

“With all due respect, sir.” Wingnut cleared his throat and spoke up toward the monitor. “He’s right, you know. If Ah’m goin’ ta be puttin’ mah crew inta tha danger zone, they best know why they're doin it past fer a paycheck.”

With a sigh, I could see through the image on the screen that Eighth wasn’t maintaining his composure. “Fine. I’ll have Vanilla brief you on the contents of the package.” Looking back onto the screen, I swear he tried to burn a hole through my horn with just his gaze. “But I expect you to follow through with it and get back here in one piece, okay?” Sitting back from the screen a bit, he seemed to relax a bit. “Just, be careful, alright? Nether isn’t the best of towns, and you should expect trouble the moment you land there. If you have to… destroy the package and get the hell out of there, okay?”

“Alright.” I nodded. “We’ll get it done.”

“Good.” He offered a smirk. “Then I’ll see you back home in a few days.”

“Goodbye, Eighth Note.” I spoke up, watching as he nodded and the display screen turned to static as he cut the connection. “Well, so much for Stable 13.”

“You needn’t worry. I’ve added it to the itinerary for when we return to Los Pegasus, Sawyer.” Vanilla offered with a soft pat on my shoulder. “For now, have your friends gather around the navigation table in fifteen minutes for a briefing on the package.” Turning around, she looked over to Astrolabe, who was hunched over the table and muttering to himself. Perking his ears, he froze and slowly looked over his shoulder at us. I swear that guy had a sixth sense about him…

“Yeah. I’ll tell the others.” I nodded. “You go deal with him.” Returning the pat on the shoulder she gave me with one of my own, I turned and headed for the others. While dealing with Stable 13 has been delayed, I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad about it. Guess I’d just have to take some time to think about it, maybe get Bluejay’s input on it. Regardless, it was time to get in the air again, and that meant that we had time to relax for now. Well, depending on what Vanilla’s briefing said, at least I hoped we had time...

--Chapter End--

“Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.”

Quests Finished: Chasing Ghosts

Quests Started: The Underground City

Levels Earned:

Perks Earned: