The Contract

“Citizens of Zebrica, this is your President speaking, and I have wonderful news,” says a stallion over the radio, though with the rattling of décor, loose tools and fluids coupled with the rushing hot wind, Skai is having some trouble hearing it. That, and the the squeaking and banging of metal and wood on the bumpy road adds some buzzing of anxiety to him, like bees crawling through his body. He is actually expecting his seat to fall out from underneath him and get crushed by the pipes and fat wheels of the motor wagon.

“We are getting close to Zebrica,” says Jela over the President, taking his hoof off of the steering orb on his dashboard to tap a compass, which is glued next to a bobblehead of a zebra mare in leafy dress. “The President makes a lot of radio talks and it gets into this country. Border towns like to listen in and loan him some help from time to time.”

“Also, I am pleased to announce that we have restored order to the Wheatlands,” continues the President. “The damage is minimal, the casualties are thankfully no more than a few bruises. I urge all citizens of the Wheatlands to return home. It is safe. Your President, your Congress, your army, we are all here for you and we will continue to fight for you and to restore order and prosperity to Zebrica.”

There is an applause with some static, and Skai looks out the window with heavy eyes in hopes of seeing the beautiful landscape that his book told him about. But, alas, he still sees an endless sea of sand colored grass bathed in the searing, blinding light of the sun. Just like it has been for the past six hours. There has not even been a cloud in sight for four hours and the last cloud they had should not even be considered a cloud since all it was was a strip of white. At this point Skai has determined that it is basically the most boring piece of land he has every seen, and it brings him to wonder if anybody has died of boredom in this part of the world.

“Are you bored?” asks Jela.

“I have seen better scenery in my prison cell,” says Skai.

“What are you talking about? This is beautiful! Just look at all the lovely grass, the open sky, the-”

Ba-Da-BUMP!

The vehicle suddenly jerks up and dips into the road, kicking up a cloud of dirt that blows inside the vehicle, and Skai curses and covers his beak with one hand while the other grips his door tight. The vehicle rattles, bobs, weaves and kicks up more dirt, shaking the loose objects to the point where the screws must surely be holding on. This also leads to the radio dropping out to pure silence. Then there is a snap and a shatter, and Skai whips his head towards the sound and his blood drains from his face when he sees a curved piece of wood shattering against the uneven dirt road.

“Something just came off this thing!” says Skai. He looks at Jela, who is laughing like a maniac and saying something in Zebrican too fast for him to pick up. “What are you laughing about? Your thing -whatever this thing is- is falling apart!”

“Relax, that was probably one of the pipe sleeves. Besides, you have nothing to worry about,” says Jela, grinning at Skai as he runs his free hoof along the cracked case of the dashboard. “This beauty was crafted in the finest factory in Khomas so it will run well.”

A thick jet of sparkling charcoal smoke belches out the exhaust pipe, forcing the vehicle forward with a burst of speed that pushes the pair into their seats. Though, while Skai feels the cold tendrils of death moving in to claim him, Jela continues laughing like an idiot that deserves death. Or the very least a good punch in the mouth.

“You are a funny griffin, you know that?” says Jela. “Every griffin I have seen have been serious. Like, this.”

Jela scowls at the rear-view mirror, which is cracked and held together by tape. This act brings Skai to frown in bemusement.

“But you?” continues Jela. “You are all.”

Jela opens his eyes and mouth wide and stiffens himself. Keeping his face frozen he switches between Skai and the road. After a few seconds of this nonsense, Skai points at the road, forcing himself to look away from his partner.

“Will you keep your eyes on the road?” says Skai.

“What are you worried about? The road is flat and its not like I am going to hit anypony or anything. There's nopony for miles!” says Jela, now stiffly looking at Skai with his hoof off the steering orb, either unknowing or uncaring that they are steadily veering into the grass.

“Don't do that! Just keep your eyes on the road. I do not want to die because of you!”

Jela shakes his head and calmly regains control of his vehicle. “And Ozean said you were supposed to be a tough bird. What I see is a griffin cub in an old body.”

Skai rests his head on his shaking palm. “Just keep driving.”

“Whatever you say, cub.”

Jela then hits his radio and it hums back to life, blaring the voice of the President again.

“Order will return to our nation,” says the President. “No adversary will keep us from our goal. No trial will keep us stalled. Those who wish to divide us will fail. Those who work to undermine me and the Congress will fail. Those who wish Zebrica to perish will be punished. I promise you, greatness is coming. From my heart, to yours, this is President Honeypot signing off.”

Another boring hour passes before Jela slows the vehicle down and turns off the radio. As this happens, Skai pulls out his Beginners Guide to Zebrican and skims the greetings section. Another minute later, the vehicle slows to a stop in front of a barricade. Said barricade is made up of a pair of brick towers surrounded by sand bags, rolls of barb wire and machine gun nests. In the towers are Gatling guns manned by zebras in brown armor and garment with radio packs on their backs. Hanging from the towers are flags with yellow backgrounds with foregrounds of a hollow four spoke, black sun flanked by a black plow and hammer, and next to each tower is a large vehicle.

These vehicles are elevated more than Jela's little steam powered contraption, and rather than having four wheels, they have a pair of treads in the back and four fat wheels up front. The front of the vehicle is covered in heavy gray metal plates, slits for a window, four exhaust pipes jerking up to the sky, and heavy doors with a ball-and-joint system connecting it to its back. The back end is where the treads are, and it is equivalent to a metal box. Like its front, heavy plates are bolted down and slits run along their sides, and thick pipes run along the sides and also end with their opening facing the sky. There are also turret nests with Gatling guns in it that are being manned by zebra soldiers.

Skai really wants to run away at this point. Run away and find something nice and cozy to snuggle up with. But he is able to get a leash on his fear and drag it back to where it belongs, despite the monster sized vehicles and the dozens of armored zebras with rifles on their saddles looking at them. How times have certainly changed during his sentence.

Jela stops the vehicle and he smiles at Skai as a zebra with a winged star on his vest approaches them.

“Relax. I got this,” says Jela.

Skai can only nod, and when the zebra is next to them, Jela smiles a big toothy smile and holds out his hoof.

“Good afternoon, Iklwa,” says Jela in Zebrican.

“Good afternoon, Jela,” says Iklwa in the same language while lightly pressing his hoof against Jela's.

And that is as much as Skai is able to understand before the two begin speaking too fast for him to understand. He watches their expressions in hopes of trying to gauge the direction of the conversation. From what he can tell from the tone and their features the conversation is going quite well. Jela is still happy and annoying, and Iklwa appears tired, but not wanting to gun them down in the vehicle. Though, Skai cannot say the same thing about the gunners since they are staring at them -specifically him- with their hoofs too close to the triggers for his liking. But, as quickly as the conversation starts with Jela and Iklwa, it ends with the latter walking to Skai's side.

Skai watches him carefully. His talons flex on his door handle and his eyes drift along Iklwa's body, finding an excellent weakness in his armor around his throat.

It seems that Iklwa's walk is taking longer than it should have, for each step is heavy, leading to his gear to tap against his armor with each step. The buzzing of the bugs and the light rustle of the grass makes the illusion of slowness all the more real to Skai, and when Iklwa is looking down on the old griffin, Skai puts on his best smile and loosens his talons, but he still keeps his muscles tense.

“Hello. It is nice to meet you,” says Skai, holding out his hand.

Iklwa's lips twitch and he reluctantly presses his hoof into Skai's palm, and as they shake, the zebra looks at Jela and says something Skai cannot understand. Jela replies, and Skai is not amused when the two share a laugh.

Iklwa pulls away and shouts at his soldiers, and the particularly fresh looking soldiers perk and gallop over with glowing eyes while the hardened ones carefully walk over like confused cats. Iklwa then turns and shouts at Skai, motioning him to get out.

“What's going on?” says Skai.

“He wants you to get out,” says Jela.

“I can see that, but why?”

“He wants to take your picture with the group.”

Skai balks at Jela. “What?”

“Pictures.” Jela gets out of the vehicle, trots to Skai's side and opens his door. “Come on, it will be fun.”

Skai reluctantly gets out of the vehicle and follows Jela to the group of soldiers with a dejected look weighing down his face.

“The last time I had my picture taken I was being sentenced to prison,” says Skai.

“And the last time I had my picture taken I was with a beautiful girl on the beach,” says Jela.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No, but it makes me feel better.”

Skai rolls his eyes and stops moving when Jela puts his hoof on his chest, then Jela waves Iklwa over, who then orders his soldiers to crowd around Skai in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Hot armor presses against him, sweat evaporates around him, stench of bad breath burns his nose, and the fact that so many stallions in armor carrying big guns are surrounding him and giggling like foals leaves him just more than unnerved. And the turrets aimed at them are not helping.

Once everyone is in position, a zebra gallops into view carrying a bulky box with a cylinder on the front, a lever on the side and a tripod on the bottom. He is quick to set it up, and when it is secured on the ground his face disappears behind the box and his hoof rests on the lever.

“Ushizi!” says the camera pony.

“Ushizi!” repeats the crowd.

There is a bright flash of light that blinds Skai, and he tries to blink away the blobs of colors floating around his eyes, but every blink seems to only push them around instead of breaking them. The zebra soldiers also stay crowded around him and chatter like clucking chickens as they bully each other to get a better view of him. The number of smiling faces is overwhelming and Skai's heart becomes fast and heavy, and his legs move him backwards on their own accord, but the soldiers still walk after him or circle around him, all asking and saying things he cannot understand. They only stop when Iklwa shouts and takes a few heavy and fast steps towards them, which drives the soldiers to gallop back to the barricade.

Iklwa yells something after them and stomps his hoof, and after snorting he turns to Jela and smiles thinly with his hoof held out. Jela meets his hoof and the two share their farewells, and then Jela guides Skai back to the vehicle. Once the two are back inside and buckled up, Jela starts forward and honks his horn at the soldiers. The soldiers cheer and wave, and Skai barely lifts his hand for a wave before resting his head on his hand, breathing a sigh of relief.

“We're in,” says Jela. “Iklwa put out the word to his friends that marked us as friendlies, so we won't be shot at by the government.”

“Good... Have they ever seen a griffin?” asks Skai, his eyes looking at the shrinking barricade through the door's mirror.

“No. There once was a small community of griffins in Zebrica, but they aren't around any more.”

“Why not?”

"They were cleaned out.”

Skai stares at Jela, mortified by the statement, but the fat zebra shows no sign of remorse or anything else except for relaxation.

“I think now is a good time to tell you about the people Ozean wants you to kill.”