Fallout: Equestria - Old Grudges

Sawyer…

The voice of a mare in the darkness called my name. Though, I couldn’t see them or anything at all for that matter, I looked around. Stark blackness was all around me, pressing against me with a chill that sent a shiver down to my very soul.

Sawyer…

The mare’s voice called again. This time, I could at least discern a direction. As I turned to look, a soft light flickered on a short distance away. It pushed back against the darkness, but could not clear more than a few feet. What looked like an old throw switch sat sparking against a grey wall. With my curiosity piqued, I trotted towards it.

Sawyer… come closer…

The closer I trotted, the further the switch seemed to get. Another light flickered on a few feet beside it. However, this one only cast a shadow against another gray wall. That shadow, opened a pair of bright yellow eyes that gazed angrily at me. I could feel a wave of fear wash over me, like I knew deep down that this was wrong. Even so, as much as I tried, I couldn’t stop my legs from continuing to take me closer.

Sawyer… come back to us…

Yet another light flickered on. This one was between them, and much stronger than the other two. In it, I finally froze where I stood in horror. The bent, half broken massive steel door that once sealed my stable rose up in the darkness. The pock marked and faded number thirteen sent a new pulse of fear into me. Then the door started to tip forward, growing larger as it did.

Sawyer… welcome home...

Panicking, I tried to get my legs to move, but they refused! My heart raced in my chest as the looming door grew and swung downward. I had to run, but my hooves felt like they were part of the floor. Looking up, I watched as the massive door eclipsed my vision, and with a rousing slam, came down ontop of me.

I screamed and jumped to my hooves. With a sharp stinging pain, my right forehoof gave out from under me, and I came crashing down onto a musty old carpet. With a groggy groan, I blinked a few times as I got the impression that everything just then had been another nightmare.

“Sawyer?” A mare’s voice called to me again, making my blood freeze. With the soft click of a door, the fuzzy blue mare who’d saved me walked into whatever fuzzy room I was in. Oh, right… glasses.

“Sorry.” I groaned, blinking as I looked around for my old black frames around me. As I did, a soft blue magical aura enveloped them and brought them right onto my muzzle. Adjusting them with my own magic, I turned to look at the mare again, remembering the events of earlier. “Bluejay? Is it really you?”

“Glad you remember me.” She smiled as she began taking off her gear. “Goddesses it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” Setting down her mask and bags, she then began levitating her shotgun around and taking it apart. As she did, she used her magic to run an oily rag over each of the stripped parts. “I mean, I’d always hoped that you made it out alright, but...“ She paused, looking over at me with eyes that looked full of regret. “Just… it’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah, but… what the hell are you doing out here?” Finally pulling myself off the floor, I whined as I favored my burnt leg. It had been tightly wrapped in bandages, and the smell of a medical salve filled my nose… along with another, better smell. Somepony around here smelled like they were frying a fresh batch of hay.

“Come with me and I’ll explain it all to you.” Bluejay smiled in the same way she had when we were young, holding her hoof out to me as she set down her shotgun parts in an orderly fashion. Reaching out, I took her hoof with my injured one, and she helped me limp into the next room.

Leaving the small office I’d woken up in, I found myself brought into a small lounge room. Faded movie posters lined the walls, and I was fairly confident I’d been brought back to the theatre.

“Hay’s almost done, B!” The little filly from before called out as we strolled in. She had herself propped up on a couple old milk crates, hovering over a small portable stove that had been set up on the counter. She cast her glance back to me and offered me a quick smile before turning back to working at the cooking food. With a surprisingly loud sizzle, the little filly slid a large piece of radhog meat onto the other side of the small stove.

“Sounds great, Skele.” Bluejay spoke up with a smile, using her magic to ruffle the mane of the small filly. Continuing over to an old black leather couch, Blujay plopped herself down in it with a heavy sigh. “Feel free to take a seat anywhere, get comfortable and stay off that hoof of yours.” I nodded, quickly finding an old leather armchair to climb into. “So,” She continued as I maneuvered myself into place. “Guess I should start at what happened the day the Stable was raided.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, looking over to her. It was hard to believe that it was the same mare I’d used to know all those years ago, sitting only a few feet away.

“I assume what happened to me had also happened to you.” Bluejay began, looking over at me briefly before staring across the room in thought. “Once the Stable fell to the slavers, I was rounded up with a group and marched outside. Once outside, the foals and elderly were forced into a caged cart, while those who could walk were chained.”

She was lucky then. Looking down at my bandaged forehoof, I could almost see the shackles I’d been put in. Sure, they were just a memory, but they still felt as heavy on me as they did that day.

“So anyway,” She continued. As she did, the filly scraped some of the food onto an old plate. “We were hauled north, sent along a different route than the rest of the Stable. After two days or so, the Slavers were ambushed.” The filly hopped down from her boxes, effortlessly balancing the plate of food on her head. Trotting over, she waited for me to grab it with my magic before turning around. “In all my years out here, I’ve never seen anything like that day happen again. A single mare with a lever action rifle took down fourteen of the bastards like it was nothing.”

That sounded too improbably fantastic to have actually happened. “Oh yeah?” I asked, trying to occupy myself with something other than the thoughts of those days. The smell of the fresh cooked meal however, was a nice way to do so.

“Yeah.” Bluejay chuckled softly, still lost in her own visions of the memories. “She freed us that day. In that same day, I knew then what it was that I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be like her. It was a tough journey, but I followed her all the way back east to Baltimare.”

“This supermare have a name?” I asked, genuinely interested now. This ‘pony’ was too good to be a nopony. Anypony who was a hero out here either didn’t last long, or made a name for themselves amongst the wastes.

“Storm Rider.” Bluejay shrugged, torn out of her memories by my question. Looking over, she watched as the little filly hopped back down from her box and brought her a plate of food. “She used to go by the name ‘the Blue Phoenix’. Always liked that name, myself.”

Ah, now there’s a familiar name. “Yeah, I’m fairly certain that Eighth Note has a file on her.” Yeah, and like ‘Banshee’ here, it advised never hiring her. “So this mare took you in then?”

“Yeah. Having followed her that far, you better believe she did.” Bluejay nodded, using her magic to stuff a clump of fried hay into her muzzle. She didn’t let it slow her down though. “She jumped between training me and her granddaughter for a few years, trying to get us to take over for her and let her retire. But I was the better protege of the two of us, and she’d grown too distant from her granddaughter to convince her to join us.” With a solemn look crawling over her face, she looked down at the plate of food before her. “A couple of years ago now, Storm finally died. So I said my goodbyes to the east coast and headed out here with another of our old Stablemates. Took me a while to get set up, but I started to make a name for myself again. I couldn’t just sit around anymore in this dump of a city without doing something.”

“So, that’s why you’re parading around Los Pegasus with a name like ‘The Banshee’.” I scoffed at the notion. I’m surprised she’s managed to last this long out here. The ruins of Los Pegasus were nothing but rotten and best left to decay into nothing. There was nothing left saving here. “Why ‘The Banshee’, anyway?”

“What” She cocked an eyebrow as she slurped up a bit more hay off her plate. “I’d thought you’d get it right away with me.” She giggled and wiped some of the haybits from her muzzle. “Wasn’t that the name of one of the superheroes you’d thought up way back when? I’d thought that since your stories were always so entertaining to me, I might as well become the mare you’d always written about.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “Not sure I’d have gone with ‘The Banshee’, but it’s flattering that you still remember some of my less than stellar works.” Really, my stories had evolved since then. Even though nopony ever read them anymore really, I know that I’ve improved over time.

“Bullshit.” Bluejay chortled, nearly choking on her hay. “Those stories were great.” With a sigh, she put down her plate for a moment. “Other than my parents, they’re one of the things I missed the most about living in the stable.” With a smile, she looked up again, a soft expression overcoming her. “But then again, I’ve missed you too. What about your end of the story? What happened to you when the stable fell.”

Looking down at the food, suddenly I’d lost my appetite.

“We’ve delayed long enough.” I spoke, trying to force back all the memories swarming in my head. Bluejay deserved an explanation, but I still had a job to do, because unlike her, I was still a slave. “Eighth Note needs you for a job.”

“Really?” Bluejay responded with an agonized groan. “We haven’t seen each other for basically forever, and you just want to discuss what that asshole wants?” With a roll of her eyes, she flopped back on her couch. As she did, the small filly hopped up next to her with her own plate of food. “Why the fuck do you even work for him?”

“Because not all of us were lucky enough to be saved, and he was at least nice enough to buy me before I was sold off to some brothel.” I snapped at her, shoving myself off the chair and sending the food to the floor. Turning toward the exit, I started limping my way to it. “It’s good to see you again and all, but my job was just to give you the job offering.” Reaching out for the door, I put my hoof on the handle.

“Sawyer, wait.” Bluejay whined, using her magic to keep the inner workings of the door from working with the handle.

“Look, I told you…” I said, turning around. As I did, I found her wrapping her hooves around me tightly in an awkward hug. It really was great to know that she wasn’t dead, but this whole interaction had become too painful to me. I just wanted to go back home and lose myself in a deep bottle of whiskey again.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” She came across muffled as she spoke against my chest. “Just… don’t go storming off like that. Not when I finally have a chance to see my old friend again.” With a sigh, she loosened her hold on me, looking up with the same bright blue eyes I remembered from so long ago. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll hear him out, but only if you stay.”

“Can’t even eat in peace. Just get a fucking room already!” The little filly muttered, flopping back with an exasperated sigh. “Just take the job, B. It’s not like we’ve got anything lined up right now anyway.”

“Ahem.” Bluejay grunted and glared at the little filly. “Sawyer, Skeleton Key told me what you did for her back there in the raider’s camp.” Those words made the filly look up with a nervous grin. ”And probably why she should at least owe a thank you for saving her tiny little flank.”

“Thank you Mr. Sawyer.” The little filly offered as she turned and shoved her face into her plate of radhog meat.

“Real smooth, Skele.” Bluejay sighed and looked back up to me, regaining her pleading eyes. “Stay for a bit longer, please?”

With a groan that came from my abdomen instead of my muzzle, I relented. “Fine.” I’d begun to really regret throwing my plate on the floor. “But then we really need to get back.”

“Sure.” She gave a soft nod and a genuine smile. “Now, I’m sure we’ve got some Cram stashed around here somewhere you can have…” Turning around, she trotted over to the cupboards next to where the cookstove was. “Besides, by the time you’re done with breakfast, most of the Ferals should be dipping back into their hidey-holes with the sunrise.”

“Sunrise!?” I facehooved hard. “You mean I was out nearly all night?”

“Yeah.” Bluejay gave a chuckle as she rummaged through the shelves of the cupboard she’d opened. “That’s what happens with concussions. Unless you happened to forget you took a pretty hard hit to the head when you were taken from here with Skele.”

“Or he’s just dumb…” Skeleton Key added in a low grumble.

“What was that?” Bluejay instantly shot back an annoyed glare at the little filly.

“Nothing!” She exclaimed before burying her muzzle into the hay on her plate.

Damnit. Eighth Note is going to kill me because I’m late, and it’s not going to make it any better for me if she hears him out and refuses the job anyway…

Fuck my life.

With labored breaths, my sore hooves carried me forward at a crawl as the sun above the cloud layer was still getting the ruins around us warmed up. Even so, I was already sweating like I’d spent the last few minutes trapped in an oven. Walking through the ruins back towards Starwalk city, I felt all wrong. My headache had returned with a vengence, I couldn’t focus at all… My heart was racing. Looking up from the ground, I looked over at Bluejay, who was talking, but I wasn’t really listening. I licked at my chapped lips, feeling the dryness in my throat. I needed a drink.

Not looking where I was going, my hoof hooked on a piece of rusty rebar. The sudden obstacle brought me crashing to the ground. With a whimper and a plume of dust, I flopped down onto my side and laid there.

“Ow…” I sighed, taking this impromptu moment to rest a bit. The sun above me dimmed as a tall figure obscured it. Bluejay looked down at me with a smile.

“Are you okay?” She almost couldn’t hold back a laugh. After a moment her smile dropped off, and a look of concern replaced it. “Seriously, you’re sweating a lot more than you should be...”

“I’m fine.” I groaned. “Just…” struggling to move, I found my hooves annoyingly weak for the moment. “Need to get back home.” Without my consent, I found Bluejay’s hoof holding me down as her magic yanked my pipbuck leg up to where she could see it.

“The medical functions on here say you’re sick.” She muttered, hitting a few buttons with her magic. “From… withdrawal?” With that, her magic released my leg and it flopped painfully down. I let out a whine from my muzzle as she deadpanned at me. “Really, Sawyer?”

“I knew he was just a junkie!” Skeleton Key chimed in from up ahead.

“I’m not a fucking junkie.” I snapped, using my anger to pick myself up. “I just… I need to drink to keep my mind off everything.” Seriously, they didn’t fucking understand. I didn’t have somepony there to save me all these years. “Now come on, we’re late enough as is.” Pressing onward, I pushed myself up to a trot.

It was great that Bluejay was alive and all, but I’m not some goodie four shoes. I lived in the real world, and that world had problems that needed help to ignore. I don’t need some mare I used to know getting on my case about how I’ve managed to even stay sane all these years.

“You know what?” Bluejay called from behind me. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going.”

“What!?” I snapped, spinning myself around.

“If that’s how Eighth Note keeps you, then why the hell would I want to do anything for him?” Bluejay snot back as she used her magic to levitate her mask out of her gear. Putting it on, she waved Skeleton Key over to her. “I’d thought you were smarter than all this, Sawyer. You were back in the Stable at least.”

“The stable is gone, Bluejay.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the show she was putting on over this. “How fucking naive are you? Running off with some hero, doing ‘good’ or some shit? Do you think that places you somehow above everypony else? Makes you better than them!?”

“No, that’s not it at all!” She yelled back. Throught the eye holes in her mask, I could see the anger in her eyes. “I just thought that everypony else had the excuse to not have had a better life at one time. They didn’t have the luxuries we had and lost, and I’m just surprised to see you have fallen so far, Sawyer.”

“It’s you that had those luxuries, Bluejay.” I sighed and sat down hard. “Other than you and my mom, I had nothing back then. No friends, no future in the Stable. Then what little I had was taken away, and what was I left with?” Lifting my hooves to her, I glared at them. “A set of shackles.”

“Yes, but you aren’t a slave anymore.” Bluejay growled. “Does Eighth Note keep you in chains?”

“You don’t even get it, do you?” I grew tired of argueing, and it only felt like it was tearing my throat up as it was. “I owe him everything for what he did. It’s not my fault that you are the one who believes that I owe you anything on the premise that we once knew each other as foals.” Dropping my hooves, I pushed myself up and turned around, looking down the road toward Starwalk City. “Now are you going to be a professional and keep your goddess damn word, or are you going to run back to your fantasy world and play hero some more?”

Hoofsteps walking up behind me proved to me that I’d been right all along. She needed to ditch this stupid fantasy of hers and come back to the real world. Standing, I waited for her to walk past me in a huff. Instead, I found a hoof on my shoulder. With a strong yank, I was spun around. The world became a painful blur as she planted a strong hoof swing across my jaw, and for the second time in minutes, I was back on the ground.

“Come on, Skele. We’ve got better things to do.” Bluejay spat at me before turning and trotting off.

“B, wait!” Skeleton Key called out, chasing after her as the both of them disappeared into the ruins. With a sigh, I rolled back over to my hooves. Well, that was a bust. Honestly, I don’t care what Eighth Note says, we don’t need to work with somepony like that. Trotting forward, angry murmurs from the ruins behind me drew more and more distant. Though, with each step, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. That was it. That had been my chance to get something back that I’d lost so long ago. But like I’d said, that isn’t my life anymore.

“Mr. Sawyer!” The young voice of Skeleton Key called out from behind me.

With a groan, I turned around. “What.” Seriously, was it not clear enough that I don’t care anymore?

“Look, Skeleton Key is right.” Bluejay spoke up as she trotted behind the young filly. “If Eighth Note needs my help, it’s probably bigger than just the two of us.” Meeting my annoyed gaze with one of her own, she trotted up to me, prodding me with her hoof. “If it’s something that is worth our time, we’ll take the job. But if it’s not, I sincerely hope that you put some thought into fixing your life. You may not think you are broken, Sawyer, but you are. You could be so much more than you are.” With a flick of her mane over half her face, she continued trotting past me.

I couldn’t really understand how she didn’t get it. I know I’m broken, I make no allusions to hide that fact or how I deal with it. But, that brings up a good point that came to mind as I watched her trot toward the city. For trying so hard to fix everything, I just had to wonder if it wasn’t actually her that was hiding the broken parts of herself instead.

Just like the elevator to Eighth’s office, Starwalk City appeared through the ruins ahead far too quickly. It had been a few hours since the outburst back there, but Bluejay and Skeleton Key hadn’t said a word since. Walking in silence had left me with nothing to do but reflect on how much my body was hurting, but I distracted myself with an odd thought I’d had. A continuation of my super heroine story from years ago. The fabled return of a legendary mare to bring justice to the wasteland.

Then again, that was just another one of my story ideas. The ‘Banshee’ was far from an idyllic hero that I’d have ever thought up, even if Bluejay tried to encompass the whole mentality and showponyship of it. Really though, when I look at Bluejay, the only thing I see is a pony so tainted by the harsh wasteland, that she’s devolved into a sort of… controlled madness. I’ve seen plenty of ponies like her come and go, but I’ve never seen one grow old.

Then again, I wouldn’t either if I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings.

“Greetings, Sawyer.” The sweeter than honey voice came through a crack in the ruins that I walked by. The voice was so sudden that I tensed up and nearly jumped right onto Bluejay’s back as she walked next to me.

“Geeze!” I cried out, looking over to find Vanilla’s glowing eyes peering at me through a shaded rubble filled alleyway. Even from under the white and blue robes she wore, I knew her eyes glowed, but I don’t think I ever realized just how much they do. “Damnit, haven’t I told you not to sneak up on me?” I paused as a weird pressure across my back pulled my attention to it. The blued metal of Bluejay’s shotgun sat propped across me as it was pointed at Vanilla.

“You know this pony?” Bluejay said almost muffled behind her mask, firmly using me to steady the shotgun in her magic. “She doesn’t even show up on my EFS.”

“You must be Banshee. I hope that you will be able to help Master Eighth Note with his current situation.” Vanilla spoke warmly as she walked out of the alley. The almost completely hidden apertures of her synthetic eyes adjusted to the midday light as she approached, and the distinct hum that her internal systems gave off picked up with each step. Looking down at my bandaged hoof, her expression shifted to worry. “Oh, Sawyer, you are injured. Have a seat and allow me run my medical diagnostic on it.”

“What is it?” Bluejay muttered under her breath as she pulled her shotgun up and off me.

“She’s a machine, and Eighth Note’s secretary.” I muttered, sitting down and holding my hoof out to her. Honestly, I never really thought much about Vanilla being a machine. She’s about as real as anypony could get, sans a ‘realistic’ pony personality that is. She’s more of a slave than I am, but she doesn’t seem to care. Then again, caring about those around her seems to be something she goes out of her way to do half the time…

“That is correct.” Vanilla said with a smile before leaning in and looking over my forehoof intently. “Though, Master Eighth Note can fill you in on my exact specifications if you wish.”

“She’s so… real looking.” Skeleton Key called as she walked up beside Vanilla. She gave her a prod on the flank with her hoof, sharply pulling it back as it squished in.

“You have some deep tissue damage, and seem to be suffering from withdrawal. However, we are only a block away from home. You should let me treat you completely while Eighth Note brief’s Bluejay.” Vanilla said as she pulled her head back. Turning to look at the small filly inspecting her, she flicked her tail and brushed it over Skeleton Key’s nose. In response, the small Filly giggled and batted it away.

“Stop it, that tickles.” Scooting herself back in a fit of giggles, she got to her hooves with a bright blush. “I mean… we’re wasting time here. We should get moving.”

“You have some very interesting friends, Sawyer.” Bluejay whispered into my ear as she re-slung her shotgun over her. “Not sure I trust a machine, but it seems to care about you, so that gives it points in my book.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Vanilla spoke up before beginning to trot toward the city, the humming inside of her picking up as she did. Getting back to my hooves, I started after her too.

“So I assume that thing is what Eighth Note uses to get his intel?” Bluejay asked as she trotted, catching up to me quickly. So, she can hate me for my life choices for the last few hours, but now it was time to talk again because she didn’t trust the only pony around who didn’t hide their motives?

“First, Vanilla is a she, not a thing.” I snorted. “She’s the only one you’ll ever see who might have a chance of living up to the ‘standards’ you set, so show her a bit of respect and stop referring to her as a thing.”

“That’s...“ She started, stopping herself and scrunching her muzzle up. With a sigh, she looked dejectedly at the ground. “Sorry. I’ve heard of an artificial pony before, but the one I heard about was supposedly unique.”

“Second of all,” I continued, “Yes, she’s how Eighth gets his highest priority intel. He doesn’t like sending her out because she’s unique. So you better believe that whatever Eighth Note’s lost is damn important.”

“So… this is about something that was stolen from him?” Bluejay’s eyes hardened behind her mask.

Sighing, I realized I probably shouldn’t have said that. However, saving me from a whirlwind of questions I wouldn’t know how to answer, was the enormous clamor of the main settlement gate to Starwalk City. Never before have I been so thankful to hear the sound of that squeaky ass rolling gate...

In what was probably a smart move, Skeleton Key had given up on following Vanilla so closely, and instead waited for Bluejay and I to catch up. With a gentle touch, Bluejay used her magic to pick up the little filly and place her up onto her back. Together, we entered in through the large opening, and into the hustle and bustle of the city market.

Thanks to Vanilla, most of the crowd ahead parted to let us pass. However, as we did, Vanilla ceased to be the pony to cause a stir. The normally buzzing conversations around in the crowd became a furious session of hushed whispers and quick remarks. Hundreds of eyes peered down onto the mare in the mask next to me as we approached The Studio. Not even somepony as seasoned as Brushed Billet was immune to taking a moment to size Bluejay up. To Bluejay’s credit, she didn’t even seem to let it phase her.

Passing through the large glass storm door, we stepped into the comparatively silent lobby of The Studio. A small but prominent gasp came from Bluejay’s shoulders as Skeleton Key went wide eyed.

“It’s so… clean.” The tiny filly seemed to be having trouble finding one thing to look at over another. She looked from the fancy furniture, to the near pristine carpeted floors, and up at the ornate light fixtures. In fact, she switched between them so fast that part of me was worried that her head would spin right off her shoulders.

With a soft ding, the elevator doors ahead of us rolled back. Vanilla turned around with a smile and held out her hoof to hold the door for us. Swiftly, Bluejay and I trotted inside, followed by Vanilla. With a sigh, she sat down and hoofed at the top floor, pushing back the hood of her robes as the doors closed.

With a sharp jolt that brought a squeak out of Skeleton Key’s muzzle, we started to move upwards. I watched in fascination as the unusual sensation gripped the young filly, and she reflexively wrapped her legs tightly around Bluejay’s neck. Funny enough, for the tough front she put up, the little filly didn’t let a lot get to her, and I was impressed with that. If I had been that tough as a colt, maybe things would have been different back in the stable. But, seeing as that’s not the case, I shifted my attention back to real life.

“Say, Vanilla,” I spoke up, breaking the pregnant pause that had beset the air in the elevator. “Where were you yesterday?”

“Hmm?” She turned around, hoofing one of her blue bangs back around her ear. I never did get why she had blue highlights to her white mane, but whoever designed her must have had a reason. “I’m afraid I can not say without authorization. However, Master Eighth Note can choose to divulge that information if he so pleases.”

With another soft chime, the elevator slowed to a stop. As the doors rolled open, again, I was met with an empty reception area. Stepping out, I looked around to see that the door to the recording booths had been left open. Vanilla, having observed it as well, turned and lead us into the small foyer that held most of the electronic equipment for the three recording booths on this level. Above the far wall, sat the brightly flashing light that read On Air. Just under it, and trying to avoid my gaze, sat a very anxious and embarrassed looking Eff EL. With a click on the sound control board he sat at, he spoke into the headset he wore.

“Eighth? They’ve returned.” Was all he said before turning around and putting his hoof up to Vanilla.

“We must wait here.” She nodded, turning back to us. “Master Eighth Note will be out shortly.” Sure enough, pretty much as she said that, the broadcast light flicked off, and the door into the recording booth opened up.

Passing through the door, both Bluejay and Skeleton key paused for a moment to take in the foam spiked walls, and the flickering electronic recording equipment that made the room feel more like a torture chamber than a radio booth. Of course, sitting in his throne in the center of the room, was Eighth Note, smugly wearing a toothy grin as he looked over Bluejay. With a slow clap, he gave out a soft laugh.

“Here she is, in the flesh. The hero that Los Pegasus didn’t ask for.” Leaning back in his chair, Eighth Note’s eyes shifted to me, then down to my bandaged hoof. For only a moment, his expression shifted to one of concern. “Ah, Sawyer, it seems that you might have required some assistance after all?” Sighing and shaking his head, he gave a soft shrug. “I should have known better than to put you on such a dangerous assignment when you weren’t ready.”

“Really?” I grumbled. “You told me this was a fate of the settlement type deal that couldn’t wait, period.” Of course, classic Eighth Note telling me shit just to get me to do his dirty work. “Did you make up the whole part about Swift dying, or…” My words died in my throat as his expression dropped faster than a raider with lead poisoning to the brain.

“Swift died, and even if I might twist my words, Sawyer, I never lie to you.” He grunted. “This item that was stolen is part of a far bigger puzzle, one that shouldn’t be solved. There are those out there who want to solve it, and I aim to keep them from doing just that.”

“So then.” Bluejay spoke up, “What is it that was stolen? A weapon?” From behind her mask, she was fearless in the face of Eighth Note. She donned her persona more so than ever, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how forced it felt. However, I wasn’t the only one to see it as an act. Eighth Note’s grin grew back with every word.

“You really are every bit the mare that Storm Rider expected you to be.” He laughed, tapping his forehooves together excitedly. “She taught her apprentice well. Just to think, you’ve come so far from when she picked you up outside that Stable.”

The way he said that made not just my mane stand on end, but Bluejay’s as well. He fucking knew who she was? Not only that, he knew she was from my stable. If it weren’t for the fucking respect I had for the stallion along with everything I owed him, I would have attempted to beat the smile right off his muzzle.

“Of course, I was sad to hear of her passing a few years ago.” Eighth Note continued as my blood all but boiled. “She and I worked together a few times over the years, mostly with my mother. But she’d always been adamant that you’d be willing to help me out if I needed it in the future.”

“You… worked with Storm?” Bluejay muttered, reaching up and pulling off her mask. I could almost watch as the hero’s persona melted away with it’s removal. Brought back into the light, was the pony I’d seen back in the Theatre. More so, I was looking again at the Bluejay I’d seen in the stable. “But… she wouldn’t work with…”

“Somepony like me?” Eighth chuckled and nodded. “Trust me, she wasn’t the easiest pony to work with either...” Pausing, he cast a judgemental glance at me. “However, there are sometimes things that outweigh both our priorities for the greater good of a settlement.” Looking back at Bluejay, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “I mean, Boardwalk did hire you to stop Twix’s raiders from harassing them, correct? Or, is what I’ve heard about his death, extremely exaggerated?”

“I get it, you know more about me than I do about you.” Bluejay’s tone shifted sharply. “Is this is for the greater good, or are you just twisting your words like you said to Sawyer?”

Leaning back again, he put his forehooves behind his head and looked to relax. “No, this is most definitely of great importance. So much so that I’m going to need more than just you on the case, Banshee.”

“Who else did you have in mind?” She asked, canting her head curiously. I too was curious, but only to see if Eighth Note was going to drop any more bombshells about other surviving Stable thirteen dwellers she would need to find.

“For this, I need ponies I can trust, and for something this important, there were few out in the wastes I trusted more than Storm herself.” With a stretching groan, Eighth Note rocked himself out of his chair and pointed at Bluejay. “Because she is no longer available to hire on account of being dead, I need her granddaughter on board with us. I need you and Sawyer to make sure she’s on board and willing to work under me.”

“Really. You’re joking, right?” Bluejay deadpanned. “She lives all the way out on the east coast. What am I supposed to do? Walk there?”

“You realize that I just spent two days walking around this city trying to find her.” I sighed and smacked myself in the face with my forehoof. “Now you want me to spend six months walking across the whole damn continent?”

“Of course not. That’s a weird thing to assume.” Eighth Note screwed up his face at that, looking somewhere between insulted and disgusted at my words. “I have arranged transportation for all of you. What do you think I had Vanilla off doing?” With a belabored sigh, he waved his hoof at Vanilla. “In fact, I’m sending her along with you. She can negotiate a price if it comes down to it.”

“So why the fuck am I going then?” I grumbled and angrily slid my hoof down my face.

“Because I need you safe, Sawyer.” Eighth Note snapped at me. “For once in your life, just shut up and do as you're told. Please.” Stepping up with angry, stiff stomps, Eighth Note swung out his hoof and hooked it around my neck. Pulling me close, he squeezed around me like nothing I’d felt from him before. “I meant it when I said you were family to me, Sawyer. I need to know that you’re safe, and you might not be if you stay.”

“Okay, geeze.” I sighed, not really sure how I felt about this. I mean, on the one hoof, I didn’t have a reason to trust a thing that he said. On the other, deep down, this is something I’d always wanted from him, but never got. Carefully, I put my hoof around his neck and gave him a firm pat. “Alright, I’ll go.”

Sniffling, he pulled off me with watery eyes. “Alright. Get going then, you’ve got a long journey ahead.” Turning back around, he walked over to his chair. “Vanilla can fill you in on where you have to go. Just… be careful out there.” Reaching up, he wiped off his eyes as he sat down in front of his chair. “Oh, and good luck.”

--Chapter End--

“I don't want you to hold me,I want you to pray, ‘cause it's bigger than us.”

Quests Finished: Scream of The Banshee

Quests Started: Inheritance

Levels Earned: none

Perks Earned: none