Author's Note

I know this chapter was considerably shorter and choppier, but it's waaaaay overdue, so heres a short chapter.

A Qwick Save

Gabby continues to feel around the different corpses littering the pitch dark tunnel. Every now and then her talons brush up on casings and shells. Beginning to put things together.

MetalSmith's not here. What happened? She asks herself, continuing to feel around for something useful. Shell, casing, casing, shell, giant shell. Wait. picking up the 'giant shell' and feeling around, one thing becomes apparent. Then her opposable talon hits something rubber. Pushing on it, a bright and blinding beam of light emanates right toward her. Startled, Gabby drops the flashlight and falls backward.

Blinking a few times and rubbing her eyes, they eventually adjust to the bright light on the floor a few hooves in front of her.

Clambering back to her hooves/talons, she steps to the flashlight.

"There must be another Griffon or a Dragon with whoever took Smith. Ponies don't have talons, or digits at all, to turn on a flashlight like this." She speaks to herself, sweeping the tunnel with light. Aiming the light towards a pile of boulders from where she came, she realized why Smith never made it.

On his side of the tunnel was a collapse. And with it being so dark, he wouldn't of seen it. Then something flashed gold. Preying to Celestia it wasn't Smith's shotgun, the trots over.

To find a gold plated, over under shotgun.

Ignoring the gun, she searches franticly for any other sign of smith. Around the shotgun were scattered live shells. It's as if Smith's saddlebag was torn open. A few bandages around the shells.

"You where holdin' out on me Smith." Gabby giggles to herself in an attempt to lighten her mood. Bending down and picking up the bandages, she puts them in the same side as her others. Placing the flashlight on the ground, illuminating what she's looking at. Then, grabbing the shells and putting them in the saddlebag on her left, she picks up the shotgun.

"How... How did Smith open this" She whispers, looking over the top. Her eyes rest on a lever. "Could this be it?"

Pushing the lever up, to no avail, she huffs. Thinking back to the entrance of the tunnel, when Metalsmith checked the rounds.

"He pushed it to the right!" She says, louder than a whisper. Putter her thumb-talon onto the lever and pushing it right. Then breaking it open, two shells eject out.

"Damn, spent." She says, looking at the empty shells on the ground. Digging two more shells out of her bag, she loads the shotgun.

"Well, this is a good place to start looking for smith." She sighs, closing the shotgun then picking up the flashlight.

The smell of wax bombard MetalSmith's nostrils, forcing him awake. His eyes fluttering open to a different tent. White fabric and a giant red plus on the ceiling. Trying to sit up, but the pain in his head keeping him from moving it.

"Wha-?"

"Doon't strain yerself." Somepony tells him. Wincing and straining, Smith manages to turn his head to the left. Other cots scattered with ponies and griffins lay around the tent. Small, metal trays lay behind each cot. Sitting at a desk near the door is a brown coated stallion. Under his flat cap is a Green, flat mane. Even though sitting and facing towards him, Smith can clearly see the stallions Cutie Mark. A golf club and ball with three scratch marks behind it.

"What? Who are you?" Metal asks, making his vision go blurry.

"What'd ah seh? Doon't. Strain. Yerself." He repeats, standing up and grabbing a small yellow bottle with his mouth. Quickly trotting over to Smith, he places the bottle on the tray behind Smith's cot. Opening the bottle and shaking two pills out, grabbing a cup off the tray holding them out to Smith.

"Take eet." Smith turns his head away. "Oh don't be a babay, theere joost pain keelers."

Groaning, Smith looks back to him. Though reluctant, he's yearning for the pain to go away. Opening his mouth, letting the stallion put the pills into his mouth. Then, putting the cup to Smith's lips, he tips the liquid into his mouth.

Swallowing the pills and wincing, he sighs.

"They'll keek een soon." The stallions says, putting the cup back onto the tray,

"Was that alcohol?"

The stallion chuckles. "Yeah, eet usually helps me geet teh stuff down." He thinks for a second. "Yoo deedent spit eet out like others yooshualy doo."

"Yeah." Smith laughs slightly before coughing. "I've drowned myself in that stuff many times..." He sighs.

"Speekin' of death. Yer lucky Qweeck deedent kill ya when he found ya. Seeing as yeh keeled his best friend."

"Yeah, Sandy." Smith says sadly.

"What's yer name? ahm Leegue." the stallions asks, identifying himself as 'League'.

"Metalsmith."

Gabby looks around the cave, trying for any sign of where smith could've gone. Scanning the dirt floor of the cave, back and forth, moving slowly. Until she sees something. Moving closer to inspect it, Gabby laughs with disbelief.

"They have a fuckin' tank. Well, best place to start. I can't be to far behind. They had to of left not to long ago." She says to herself, pointing the flashlight towards where the tracks lead.

"Well well well. Now look who's come to... again." A grey earth-pony stallion walks into the medical tent, tsking. Glancing over to League, who has disappeared..

"Who the hell are you?!" Metalsmith shouts, now feeling considerably better.

"Who the hell am I? Well, I'm Qwick." He smirks evilly. "And you, MetalSmith, are now mine."

"Excuse me?" Smith asks in disbelief, sitting up.

"Well," He starts, walking further into the tent. "I saved you, and now..." He extends a pair of metal wings. "I. OWN. YOU."

Gabby exits the tunnel, daylight momentarily blinding her. Making her unable to see the Pegasus Trotter walking her way. She continues to walk forward, covering her eyes with her talons, and slamming into the trotter. Knocking both herself and the trotter over. She uncovers her eyes, finally able to see.

She groans, watching the trotter climb back to its hooves. Behind it. A hoard.

"Shiiiiiiiiit."